Page 5 of Lies Within the Darkest Tower

“Come on,” I said to Dodd, jerking my chin toward the gatehouse.

Dodd continued to stare at me and tremble.

“The fae lord isn’t here for you,” I said, smoothing a hand over my hair in an attempt to look more presentable.

If I really cared, I’d find a mirror, but this fae lord wasn’t a potential husband Edred could sell me to, so he didn’t care if I looked like a nobleman’s daughter or not. I wasn’t his daughter, so I didn’t matter. “You don’t even have to speak to him, just tend to his horse.”

I held out my hand and he took it and we walked to the gatehouse.

The guard on duty was one of Edred’s staunch supporters who’d come with him from the King’s army to join the Herstindforces. Sawyer’s lesson had been out in the open and close enough to the gate that the guard had to have seen Edred kicking me, but the man just gave me a dry look and turned his attention back to the road.

Of course, I didn’t expect much from him or anyone in the castle. There were only a few men left from when my mother had been alive, and they kept quiet for the sake of their families. Everyone else was loyal to Edred and while he’d made it clear no one was to touch me or Sawyer without permission, he’d also made it clear, no one was to help us, either.

A few seconds later I heard the thud of hooves on the hardpacked dirt road, the rhythm a quick trot, indicating the fae wasn’t racing to Herstind but also wasn’t on a leisurely outing. Then the horse and rider crested the hill, drew closer, and my breath caught in my aching chest.

CHAPTER 4

Sage

The fae lordriding up the road was stunning. Of course, he was fae, so he was supposed to be stunning. But I’d never seen a fae before and had always assumed the stories about their beauty had been exaggerated.

His blond hair shimmered like gold in stark contrast to his all black clothing but was surprisingly short — since most tales said fae wore their hair long. Although I supposed if you were a professional soldier, long hair might be more of a hindrance than a help.

He slowed his mount, a large black stallion, and acknowledged the gate guard who gave him a curt nod then turned his attention to me, capturing me with piercing green eyes.

Except they weren’t just green, they were emeralds, like the small emerald dangling from the string around my neck. Eyes like a gem or a precious metal. Just like the stories said. Those jeweled eyes were captured in a sculpted, beautiful, almost boyish face, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think he was Sawyer’s age or even mine. Fae didn’t age the way humans did. For all I knew this fae was centuries old and far from naive.

“My lord,” I said, sinking into a deep curtsey as he approached, half in an attempt to avoid staring at his eyes, or his face, or his pointed ears peeking out of his messy golden locks, and half to hide how stunned I was just looking at him. “Welcome to Herstind Castle, will you require lodging?”

“No,” he replied, his voice soft as he dismounted. “I can’t stay.”

“See to the man’s horse,” I said to Dodd while taking a step back from the fae.

He wasn’t as big or as broad-shouldered as I’d imagined — the one thing I guess the stories had gotten wrong — but he was still a head taller than me. Even if his face suggested he wasn’t dangerous, the rest of him with his black leather armor, the longsword at his hip, and the two long daggers on his other hip did, and I didn’t want to risk him having the same kind of temper as Edred’s.

“Just water him. This won’t take long.” The fae tossed a copper bit to Dodd, making the child’s eyes widen in surprise, and the boy bobbed, bowing profusely in gratitude. The bit wasn’t much, but Edred barely paid his servants, and as a child, Dodd wasn’t paid anything.

“That was kind, my lord,” I murmured, keeping my gaze lowered because it was expected of me, but also so I wouldn’t end up staring at him again. “Thank you.”

I led him across the bailey to the keep’s main doors while Dodd took the stallion toward the trough by the stables.

The fae didn’t respond to my comment. Not that I expected him to, but when I glanced at him — unable to help myself — he didn’t look bored or haughty like I’d imagined a fae lord would be at being reduced to a messenger. His posture was tight and not with just the coiled tightness of a warrior, but someone about to do something he didn’t want to do.

How many towns had he already visited? How many families had he told that their son or brother or father was going to the Gray?

There were usually only a handful of men selected each year, but this might not have been this fae’s first time delivering the bad news. Herstind might not be his first stop this year, and how many other years had he ridden out and delivered the news? How many times had he had to deal with crying mothers and wives and children? Even the most hardened warrior — unless he didn’t have a heart — couldn’t keep relaying terrible news year after year and not be affected.

“No one here will weep,” I said, climbing the half dozen shallow steps to the keep’s main doors.

I didn’t know why I felt the need to reassure him that he could just deliver his message and be on his way, but just like looking at him, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

He frowned at me and I jerked my attention away.

“What?” he asked.

“There’ll be no crying women or children at Herstind.” I grabbed the ring to one of the two heavy doors. “No one will argue the selection.”

Not that the selection could be argued with. If the sacrifice refused to take on the spell binding him to the Black Tower, the messenger would force him. Which explained why they’d sent a fae who was greater in size and strength than a human. And even if Edred had manipulated the selection process, I still couldn’t dispute it, not until I was free of him and found a way for the king to listen to me or found a way to break the binding spell. Except Sawyer was the person most likely to figure out how to break the spell and he wouldn’t be able to do that at the Black Tower.

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