Exiles
“I’ve only had two turn up in the last couple of years,” the Earl of Danthan responded.
“That’s because your area is actually civilized,” Daniel’s sister Davira said. “Baron Stant is surrounded by a bunch of illiterate farmers who would believe anything.”
The baron, earl, and Daniel’s father all laughed openly. Davira sent Daniel a cruel grin. She knew how much he hated when she disparaged the common people. He stared coolly at her.
“Isn’t that the truth? Have you heard the ridiculous rumors they are spreading?” Stant wiped his beard after a long swig of wine. “They claim that charlatan you executed last year rose from the dead of all things. The delusions of these people are astounding.”
Daniel stilled and sat up a little straighter, shifting his gaze to his father, who said, “I can assure you that he was quite dead and stayed that way.”
The satisfaction on his face pierced deeply into Daniel’s chest, winding the tension inside him to the breaking point. He ground his teeth together, willing himself to keep his mouth shut, but words came out anyway.
“How do you know for sure? What if they’re not just rumors?”
His father’s gaze locked with his. A moment of silence surrounded them as everyone turned to stare at Daniel.
“Of course they’re rumors,” his father responded in a flat tone.
Daniel shrugged, yet he was anything but nonchalant. “Well, no one has ever risen from the dead before. Where would such a story even come from if there were no truth in it?”
“These rebels will do anything to further their cause and sway those foolish and weak-minded enough to believe their claims. Men don’t rise from the dead.”
His father spoke evenly, but suspicion clouded his eyes. Daniel was sorely tempted to ask, “What if He wasn’t just a man?” but this time held his tongue. They glared at each other for another long moment before Daniel’s father shifted his attention back to Stant and Lord Danthan. Daniel looked across the table, catching his mother’s gaze. Her lips pinched, and she gave him the slightest shake of her head.
Charles poured himself a glass of punch and worked his way casually down to the end of the table where Dagren and Goler still spoke. He faced away from them and sipped his punch, straining to catch their conversation over the sound of the music.
“. . . already tried questioning them,” Goler grumbled.
“You think they’ll simply give up the information without pressure?” Dagren hissed. “It’s time to apply it. Surround the village with men. Anyone transporting supplies outside of it is to be detained and brought to me for questioning. That includes anyone in this room. And I want regular patrols on the forest roads. We only need to catch one traitor for the chance of further information.”
The conversation ended, and one set of footsteps departed. The other, however, remained. Charles emptied his cup of punch and set it aside. When he turned, he found Dagren staring at him, eyes narrowed.
Charles stepped forward boldly and extended his hand. “Captain Dagren, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my lord,” Dagren replied as he grasped his arm and took stock of him.
“I hear you were sent to help deal with the rebellion. It’s been going on for what, two years?”
Dagren’s lip curled in the beginnings of a scowl. “Two years too long. It should’ve been eradicated before it even had a chance to begin.”
“If I may, I’d guess you are far more capable of handling this than, well . . .” Charles glanced around for Goler. He drew his brows together to find the man working his way toward Anne. “. . . the current captain.”
This drew a thin smile from Dagren. “You are correct, which is why His Majesty sent me.”
Charles forced a smile of his own. “Good. My brother-in-law will be pleased to hear it. We would hate for my niece to have to leave due to the danger these rebels present. You’ve restored my faith in the handling of this situation.”
Dagren’s eyes sparked with a cold light. “I will not disappoint you. The rebels will be caught and dealt with. I guarantee it.”
Anne spotted Goler moving through the guests like a predator on a scent and swallowed down her distaste. The only way she could have avoided him all night was to remain attached to Charles’s arm, but that was unrealistic. She drew a fortifying breath just before he reached her.
“Dance with me.” His voice was low and more of a command than an invitation.
Handling this as wisely as she could manage, Anne offered Goler a smile. “Of course.”
Claiming her hand in a tight grip, he led her onto the dance floor, where he put his arm around her and pulled her closer than she was comfortable with. She tried to put more space between them, but his hold only tightened. Thank Elôm she had worn the dress she had, considering the way he stared down at her. Though not drunk, his eyes gave away the effects of alcohol consumption, and it wafted from his breath. It made him entirely too bold. Anne’s breath trembled in and out as she fought to maintain her poise.
“You and Lord Ilvaran seem well-acquainted,” Goler said as he leaned closer to her.
She turned her head away. “We got to know each other at Ashwood last summer.”
“Has he expressed interest?” The question was a hard, slightly slurred hiss.
Now Anne looked him in the eyes, pausing for only a heartbeat. “Yes.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Charles had said that, if he’d been younger, he might have sought her father’s approval to court her.
Goler drew her yet closer so there was hardly any space between them. Anne gritted her teeth. Any nearer and she would stomp on his foot. She was, after all, a betrothed woman.
“And do you welcome his interest?”
“I would be a fool not to. He is the future Earl of Dunrick.”
Let him think she and Charles had something between them. Perhaps it would keep him at bay until things finally came together for her and Trask.
Goler’s jaw clenched, the taut muscles twitching. He could never compete with someone of Charles’s standing.
Anne barely held in a sigh of relief when the dance finally ended. Sweat tickled her back and her hands had turned clammy in Goler’s warm grasp. The moment he loosened his grip, she took a quick step away and prayed he wouldn’t ask for another dance. He opened his mouth, surely to do just that, when Charles appeared.
“Lady Anne, here is your punch.” He handed her a small glass of pink liquid.
“Thank you,” she replied, truly grateful for something to soothe her prickly throat.
She took a sip, and Charles gave Goler a bright smile. “Thank you for keeping her company while I stepped away.”
He extended his arm to Anne, and she latched onto it, little caring right now how it would infuriate Goler. She just wanted to put as much space between herself and the captain as she could. Her skin crawled with the lingering sensation of his hands on her.
With another seemingly innocent smile, Charles led her away. Yet, when they turned their backs to Goler, Charles’s expression hardened. “Are you all right?”
Anne let out her breath slowly. Her heart still beat irregularly. “I will be as long as he keeps his hands off me for the rest of the night.”
Knowing Charles, he wouldn’t leave her side again. He guided her toward her parents and Baron Grey. Her father’s grim expression said he wouldn’t leave her alone either.
“Annie,” he murmured when they neared.
“I’m all right.” That’s when she remembered the reason Charles had left her in the first place. She looked up at him. “Did you hear anything Goler and Dagren were discussing?”
Charles nodded and quietly filled them in on what he had overheard.
Baron Grey shook his head. “They are taking over the village. I have no control anymore.”
“We have to warn Trask,” Anne whispered. “Some of his men still come to the village for supplies.”
“It won’t be easy to get to him now,” her fathe
r said. “Not with the patrols.”
Anne resisted the urge to place her hand over her stomach as it sank toward her feet. What if she wouldn’t get to see Trask anymore? However, she couldn’t let her distress show here under such scrutiny. She cleared her face of emotion, prayed to Elôm, and did her best to fortify herself against her rising concerns. Worrying wouldn’t solve things here.
Charles looked down at her again. “As long as you’re with your father, I’ll check on Elanor. I want to make sure Goler isn’t anywhere near her now that I suspect I’ve just made him my mortal enemy.”
For the rest of the evening, Anne remained close to her parents or Charles and Elanor. Any bit of enjoyment had vanished, and she counted down the minutes until they could leave.
At last, sometime close to midnight, the guests departed. The moment Anne stepped outside with Charles, she breathed deeply of the cool air and her whole body freed up. How much worse would it have been if Charles had not been there? Thank You, Elôm, for Your gracious provision.
While they waited for the carriage, Anne looked up at Charles’s shadowed silhouette.
“I hope this won’t embarrass or offend you.” It did embarrass her some now, though in the desperation of the moment it had seemed like the right thing. “I let Goler believe that you have expressed your interest in me.”
Even in the dim torchlight, Charles’s smile was evident. “Well, considering that would be true under different circumstances and my affections are not yet spoken for, I see no harm in it if it can be of benefit to you.”
“You’re very kind, and I am incredibly grateful for how helpful you’ve been to me tonight. It’s not an easy situation.”
“I’m happy to help, just so long as your Lord Trask knows the rumors that are bound to circulate after tonight are just that.”
Anne smiled. “I’ll make sure he knows.”
That is, if she even got a chance to see Trask again any time soon. Her smile faded.
The low hoot of an owl echoed overhead just after the last carriage rolled away into the night. Trask took this signal and let himself into the castle’s back courtyard. He slipped through the deep shadows to the castle’s rear door and glanced over his shoulder. Everything lay still and dark under the heavily clouded sky. He couldn’t spot either of the two cretes on top of the wall, but they would warn him if anyone lurked nearby. He then unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Darkness engulfed him, but he knew every inch of this castle from roaming all the nooks and crannies as a child. He paused to breathe in the familiar scents, and pressure built in his chest, aching in his throat. He hadn’t been home in months.
Trask made his way cautiously through the unlit halls to his father’s office. Morris, the secretary, wasn’t present, likely helping downstairs with the celebration. Trask lit a couple of candles and took a seat at the desk in his father’s chair. Releasing a long sigh, he soaked in the sight of all his father’s books. The same padded chair where he’d sat and learned to read as a young boy still rested against the wall. Hard to believe so much time had passed. His childhood imaginings of adulthood were nothing like reality.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and Trask pushed himself up as his father stepped inside.
“Trask!” he gasped, his eyes going huge.
Trask met him in the middle of the room, and they embraced tightly.
“Father,” he whispered, his throat aching again. It had been such a long time, but he remembered his father being so much stronger. He was so thin!
Trask pulled away slowly to look into his father’s face. Though Anne had warned him, it had not prepared him for how sickly his father appeared. It was perhaps the first time it truly sank in how old his father was becoming.
“Are you all right?”
His father smiled widely despite his worn expression and weary red eyes. “I am now.”
“You don’t look well.”
His father shook his head. “I’m just tired.”
“Sit down.” Trask guided him to his chair and took a seat on the edge of the desk. He’d never seen his father so frail. “Are you sure?”
His father waved the question away. “There’s just a lot going on here with Dagren and Goler.”
Trask stared at him for a long moment. “I should take you out to camp. You shouldn’t have to be here doing this alone.”
“We both know that now is when I’m needed here the most. We can’t let the people fall under Goler or Dagren’s rule. There’s not much I can do anymore to resist them, but it still encourages the people to have me as their leader.”
Trask let a heavy breath seep past his lips. He’d always insisted that the people came before his own life and comfort, but it was more difficult to make the same sacrifices with his father’s life.
A brief silence hung between them until his father said, “It does me much good just to see you.” His eyes clouded. “But you took a great risk in coming here. Dagren seems to have men everywhere.”
“Don’t worry. I was careful. I brought two cretes with me. They’re keeping a lookout on the wall.”
“Just so long as you don’t take the risk again. Dagren plans to increase his watch around the village and the forest.”
His father filled him in on the captain’s plans. With the dragons, they could get supplies from other villages, and they could scare off the forest patrols. However, his father was right that visiting Landale Village again would be a great risk.
Determined to lighten the mood while he was here for his father’s sake, Trask let a smile grow. “I do have good news for you. Anne and I are betrothed. Officially.”
His father’s smile returned in full force. “Ah, that is good news. Do you know yet when you’ll marry?”
“No idea, but at least there’s no question of if anymore, only when.”
“I’m so glad.”
They went on to talk of camp, and his father mentioned the visiting viscount. Trask asked about the party and though his father mentioned Goler’s treatment of Anne only briefly, Trask wanted to drag the man behind his horse.
An hour passed before Trask knew it, but he noticed his father growing weary. Reluctantly, he stood.
“I should get back to camp.” He glanced at the door. “But, before I go, may I take a look at some of Mother’s things?”
Jace craned his head back to stare up at the colossal Dorland trees until his neck ached. When he dropped his gaze back to the solid ground, he closed his eyes to ward off an assault of dizziness. At his first glimpse of the giant forest, he’d assumed it was a mountain range. Then came the real mountains in the distance. Mountains so tall and majestic, he half wondered if they’d all shrunk somewhere along the journey. Those soaring peaks surely rose twice the height of the Sinnai Mountains near Valcré. Was everything in Dorland this gigantic?
He opened his eyes again at a nudge from Gem. Patting the dragon’s scaly cheek, he looked around the small clearing where they had stopped to have lunch. It was the only break they would take today before reaching the crete capital of Arvael in a few hours. Kaden and Talas stood nearby, good-naturedly teasing Michael about the crack in his voice, while the rest of their group finished packing their supplies. Jace secured his own pack and joined the others as they gathered around Captain Darq and Lieutenant Glynn.
“Once we reach Arvael, I’ll introduce you to the Tarns. You will stay with them. Though Lord Vallan would welcome you, I want to stay where I know everyone. Too many people come and go from the citadel,” Darq said. “I’d invite you to stay with my family, but they live farther north, and I think it would be best to keep you within the city.”
He paused. “However, I’d understand if you have reservations. The Silvars live a bit closer, so you could potentially stay with them.” He nodded to Timothy and Aaron. “Or the Folkans, though that would be a tight fit considering the size of Talas’s family.”
Everyone looked to Balen for his reaction to this arrangement. Jace hesi
tated at the thought staying with the Tarns. One Tarn had already turned traitor, and this time it was the king’s life on the line. However, he remained silent.
“You fully trust the Tarns?” Balen asked Darq.
“I’ve known Falcor’s father since I was a boy. He’s always been a close friend of the Darq family. What’s more, I’m the one who delivered the news of Falcor’s betrayal and saw the pain it caused his family. I have no doubt Novan Tarn would defend you with his life.”
Balen nodded. “Then we will give them a chance to repair what damage has been done to their name.”
“They will be honored.”
With these plans, they took to the air again. In Landale, they would have cleared the trees in a moment, but here, they had to climb much higher and longer to break free of the forest canopy. When they did, they continued east, toward the mountains.
After a couple of hours, Gem released a trill. Apparently, she recognized this as home. Ivoris echoed her, and Jace looked over to trade a quick smile with Kyrin. If only he could draw from his dragon’s excitement, but his stomach had been like a rock ever since discovering the true size of Dorland trees. No words had prepared him for their enormity or for what he would have to overcome while staying here.
When the sun blazed red-orange behind them, a bare rocky point appeared ahead, jutting up out of the forest below. Darq and Glynn angled their dragons toward it. This must be Dragon Rest, their destination, just as the captain described it.
It didn’t look like much until they drew closer. What had appeared to be only a bleak, solitary peak cut off from the main mountain range was actually an expansive formation riddled with caves and precarious-looking natural structures. The very stones seemed alive with dragons. Hundreds of them roamed about or soaked in the last of the sun’s rays on the ledges. Darq’s dragon gave an exuberant greeting as he swooped in to land. The rest of the group followed.
In a flurry of wings, they all alighted on a flat boulder protruding from one side of the peak. Jace wasn’t quite sure he trusted it to stay in place. All it had to do was crack away from its foundation and crash to the forest floor, taking all of them with it. Shoving such thoughts away, he focused on the rest of their surroundings. Not only dragons populated the area, but cretes as well. They watched, their large, vibrant eyes evaluating them with some curiosity, but mostly wariness. Good thing Darq and Glynn were there to make introductions. Jace reached into his collar and tugged out the braided hawk pendant Darq had given each member of the group so it hung in plain sight in front of his chest—a sign of friendship with the cretes.