Page 82 of King's Warrior

“But what of Delletina?”

Mother gave a predatory smile capable of treeing a bear. “I’ve often acted in your stead while you were away. I’ll do so again, ensuring I’m always protected. Whreyn will never get to me. He might have a following, but so, my son, do we. With you away, they can’t carry out their plans for a forced marriage, and your sons remain your heirs.” Mother shrugged, her tone turning nearly gleeful. “Plus, wondering where you are will surely cause them sleepless nights.”

“But Quillan! Uri!” If any harm came to Niam’s sons… Their sweet faces filled his mind. He’d failed to protect them, and now they were gone.

“Killing them would not go well for Whreyn, and I’ll ensure everyone who listens knows who’s taken them. I’ll also put a bounty on the heads of any guards who betrayed them. We’ve tried to rule through respect, not fear, but sometimes you must make an example in times of war.” A sinister smile crossed her face, one she seldom used, but that presaged danger when she did. “It mightalso be to our advantage if you were suddenly to procure a noble spouse. Perhaps a Cormiran one. Getting the emperor’s blessing wouldn’t hurt either. Now go.” She took his hand and placed a kiss on his fingers. “I love you, son. We’ll get them back.”

Niam took in poor Willem, his bruised face, the emptiness of his eyes. “Willem. As glad as I am to see you, are you sure you’re well enough for this trip?”

“Captain Casseign assures me this is the safest place for me.”

A figure approached from the darkness. Shrouded in a black cloak and mounted on a black mule, he appeared as a shadow. “King Niam.”

Niam recognized the low, melodic voice. “Captain Casseign.”

Casseign nodded, clapping an arm across his chest, over his heart, then wincing. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry I couldn’t save the boys. I heard word of a threat to your mother’s life… My commander tried to detain me, but…” No mistaking the blood matting his hair.

“Are you all right?”

Casseign’s smile appeared grim. “As long as I can protect your family, I will be. I’m afraid I might have a price on my head, though, for desertion.”

“You’ve deserted no one. You are loyal to your king.”

“I have a unit of the best soldiers Delletina offers, all devoted to you. We will see you safely on your journey.”

Tight bands of worry eased from Niam’s chest. “I appreciate your help, Captain.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” Casseign turned his mount and started down the path. “Stay close to me, Your Majesty. You too, Willem. You’re not used to the pace we’ll keep. Please inform me if you find yourself in distress.”

Niam didn’t notice the other riders until he started down the track. Silent shapes fell in around him, some leading, some following. Judging by the position of the moon and the stars, they headed directly toward Renvalle.

Beyond lay Cormira.

And Rufe.

Chapter Thirty-one

Rufe rose from his nap on the comfortable bed in a room much nicer than the barracks he normally slept in while visiting the capital. He sampled the repast left by servants, his stomach too tied in knots to do anything more than pick at the eggs and toast.

He donned the finery he usually scoffed at and would much rather wear leather or armor.I’ve nothing to fear. I’ve known Avestan Aravaid a long time. He’s a good man. An honorable man.

However, that was before Avestan became Emperor Avestan, succeeding his cruel and manipulative father. Had the power changed him?

Rufe strode down the hall to Avestan’s office and sat in the antechamber, waiting until someone summoned him. He drummed his fingers against the armrest, bouncing the foot crossed over his leg. A twinge reminded him of old injuries. He uncrossed his legs while a million scenarios passed through his mind. What did Avestan want? To soften him for more bad news? Was something wrong with Father?

Instead of the expected page, a man Rufe recognized as Avestan’s personal secretary entered the antechamber, donning as much of awelcoming expression as his rigid nature allowed. “My dear Commander Rufe. It is good to see you again.” He might be telling the truth based on the smile kicking up a tiny fraction, the most the man ever smiled. “His Imperial Majesty will see you now.”

Rufe rose from the uncomfortable chair, likely designed to discourage anyone from lingering, and fussed with his unaccustomed finery. He’d rather have worn anything but the extravagant tunic and breeches in shades of deep green—well, except for the stinking woolen clothing he’d abandoned upon meeting Vihaan. Cooler clothing for a warmer climate. The boots were nice, though. Rufe might ask about keeping the soft cowhide footwear. Or conveniently forget to return them.

He followed the secretary through the doorway of what had once been Emperor Soland Aravaid’s office, a place he’d visited once—and never told Draylon about when the emperor had threatened Rufe’s life if he pursued a permanent relationship with Draylon. The emperor needn’t have worried, as Rufe only sought Draylon’s friendship and the occasional romp in the hay, on the ground, or, when extremely lucky, in a bed.

The sexual part of their relationship ended with Draylon’s betrothal.

A portrait of Avestan’s empress and children graced the wall where a boar’s head used to intimidate the easily swayed. Avestan sprawled on a velvet settee rather than holding court from behind the desk, as his father would have. “Ah, Rufe. So good of you to come.”

Avestan acted as though a mere soldier had a choice when the emperor sent for him. Rufe bowed. “Your Majesty.”

The door clicked shut. Only then did Rufe notice the missing secretary. Father always said the good ones could go unnoticed or blend into the background.

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