Page 10 of King's Warrior

“Always.”

“I’ll never understand the scheming of royals.” Casseign shot a glance at Mother, then at Niam. “No offense intended.”

“None taken. The murder of the king consort in our lands will, I fear, bring immediate retaliation. We must thwart their plans by finding the man first. He is to be treated with the utmost respect. Yarif DiRici is not our enemy.”

Casseign inclined his head, a lock of light brown hair sweeping over his forehead. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Take only a few trusted soldiers. The kidnappers have been spotted near Telaga Pass.”

Alarm crossed Casseign’s face. “They’re nearby then. I know the area well. It’s treacherous this late in autumn.”

Would Illa Trandores have come this way had she known she’d be so close to Niam? "I hear she leads a small band of mercenaries, possibly disguised as our soldiers. Intercept them and bring methe consort. If you must kill the party, do so. However, I would like at least one to survive for questioning, if possible.” If Niam’s methods weren’t successful, he’d turn his mother loose.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Captain Casseign bowed again before leaving the room.

Niam let out a heavy sigh. “It seems my hoped-for peaceful retreat from court isn’t going according to plan.”

“It never does, dear,” his mother consoled, reaching out to pat his hand. “It never does.”

Chapter Two

Niam threw another log on the fire in his room and stared out at the darkening sky. Thick snowflakes drifted, piling against the window ledge. Telaga Pass would soon be impenetrable if the storm hadn’t made it so already.

What of Cousin Yarif? Was the poor boy caught out there in the freezing cold? But no, regardless of the image Niam carried in his head, Yarif would be a man now, whose kidnapping could start a war. Was his forced husband complicit?

If so, Niam would offer his cousin sanctuary. He’d also invalidate the marriage if Yarif wanted, even if it earned him the emperor's wrath. The gold found in Delletina’s mountains could surely buy some concessions. But first, to locate Yarif.

If anyone could find him, Casseign could. Niam should be out there, but no. He wasn’t the best swordsman nor a skilled tracker. He could only pace his rooms, hoping morning would bring good news. How long before he heard anything?

A tap came to his door.

Who’d knock at this hour? “Enter.”

Bert entered the room, a young cousin who-knew-how-many-times-removed who served as Mother’sapprentice in the healing arts. He brought with him the heavenly scent of the meat-laden, savory stew the cook favored on chilly nights.

“Place it on the table, please,” Niam said, returning to the window.

“I heard you sent out a search party. Is someone missing?” Bert gushed with all the curiosity of one who’d yet to see twenty winters.

Curiosity didn’t mix well with a king’s business. Niam fixed Bert with a narrowed-eyed glare. “Where did you hear that information?”

Bert swallowed hard while setting the tray down on a table near the fire. “Um… Just around.”

“As a healer, you might overhear many things, particularly from feverish patients. You'll lose respect if you don't learn to keep confidences, especially about things that don't concern you.” Niam kept his tone serious but shy of scolding.

“Ye… yes. I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” A hint of pink tinted Bert’s pale skin.

“That will be all.” Dismissive, yes, but the boy couldn’t keep from prying. If he didn’t learn to control himself, Niam would suggest Mother find herself another apprentice.

He settled in a chair near the fire and ate a spoonful of stew. Magnificent, as always. How their cook could turn something as simple as venison and potatoes into something so tasty defied his logic. Then his thoughts turned maudlin.Was Yarif warm? Hungry? Mother’s only tie to her beloved sister, sacrificed to start a war.

Yarif’s abduction would give the empire reason to invade Delletina, take their gold, and leave the people destitute. Nobles didn’t want the kingdom to make treaties with the empire for that very fear, but if they joined willingly, Niam could negotiate terms. If they were conquered….

Niam couldn’t let his kingdom fall to enemies.

He picked at his dinner, surprised to find he’d emptied his wineglass, barely eating, regardless of the flavorful stew. Shouts from outside interrupted the quiet of his meal. Niam ran from his room and raced down the stairs of the old keep he’d converted into a retreat. He dashed into the courtyard just as riders came to a halt.

Casseign dismounted from his mule, barking orders at his men until they steered their mules to the side, revealing three mounted strangers, one hanging loosely in the arms of the man behind him, eyes closed. The three men stank, were grimy from time spent on the road, and were covered in blood. Theirs, or someone else’s? And were these Illa’s men? Or could one be Yarif?

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