Page 91 of King's Warrior

When Father, Mother, Rufe, and Emma remained, Father said, “Emma, would you be so kind as to assemble the servants?”

Surely, gossip had reached them by now, and they needed no formal announcement, but it was a courtesy to give one. They filed in, taking their places along the walls, from the stable lad Rufe met yesterday to the groundskeeper and everyone in between.

“Thank you for coming,” Father said. “My son Rufe has returned to us, legitimized by myself, my wife, and the emperor as my son and heir. You are to follow his instructions as if they were my own.” The message was clear:If you don’t like it, leave.

A few servants glowered, likely believing their unkindness during Rufe's youth had numbered their days. They’d thought him unworthy for most of his life. Although they might not want him as Duke, Rufe didn’t want the job either.

A knock came at Rufe’s door way too early in the morning. “Lord Rufe?”

“Yes?” Rufe rose, wrapping a dressing gown around himself and grabbing his sword from its scabbard. He’d expected adversity, but not so soon.

“You have a visitorin the parlor.”

Rufe relaxed, but not by much. “See to their comfort. I’ll be down momentarily.” He flung off the gown, rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, and scrambled into the clothing he’d worn to dinner. His hair might be a lost cause, but anyone seeking an audience at this hour couldn’t expect his best.

He trudged down the stairway, jaw creaking in a yawn, and entered the parlor. A single lantern lit the room, casting shadows on a cloaked figure by the window, back turned.

Rufe gripped his sword tighter. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?” He braced for an attack.

Gloved hands drew back the hood, revealing… copper hair.

Rufe’s heart seized for a moment until the image truly sank in. Brown eyes, cropped hair, scar down one cheek. A woman, not a man.

The woman turned. “Commander Rufe. Thank the goddess I found you.”

All weariness fled. Rufe placed his sword on a table and crossed the distance in three long strides, taking her into his arms. “Lieutenant Lutrell! What are you doing here? Is Draylon all right? Yarif?”

Lutrell’s eyes shimmered in the low light. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. She swayed on her feet. “Commander. They sent me to you. You must come at once.”

Rufe’s heart leaped to his throat. “What’s wrong?” Had something happened to Draylon or Yarif?

“There is unrest in Delletina. Nobles have taken King Niam’s sons.”

Rufe’s suddenly weak knees threatened to topple him. He grasped the edge of a table to steady himself. Quillan! Uri! “What about King Niam?”

“He escaped and is in Renvalle. They’re amassing a force.”

“You’re in no condition to travel. Stay here. Rest. I’ll leave at first light.” Renvalle was only a few days away. Rufe dared anyone to stop him.

Rufe urged Princess on. If he’d only stopped in Renvalle before proceeding to Cormira, he’d have been there for Niam’s arrival.

Niam. In trouble. The boys were in trouble. Rufe would kill the sonofabitch who’d dared take them. And if someone harmed them? He’d rain fire on their heads. He rode hard, barely sleeping or eating in his desire to get to his lover.

His lover. King Niam. As much as Rufe hated being named heir to Father’s dukedom, thanks to Emperor Avestan, Rufe the untitled bastard now became Lord Rufe Ferund, heir to Altonois Ferund, the Duke of Haston.

No longer a bastard, no longer a mere soldier. The tattoo on his wrist caught his eye. Though Avestan outlawed marking prisoners, some would still view Rufe as a traitor. The new decree came too late to save him from a lifetimeof mockery.

Any seeking comeuppance from those who’d wronged him would have to wait. First, he must ensure Niam’s health and well-being.

Four of Father’s guards traveled with him, two he’d known since childhood who’d never remarked on his dubious reception into the world, and two younger ones who appeared to shrug off anyone’s opinions but their own. Soldiers were often away from home for many seasons. Bastards were a fact of life.

Only a few miles remained when night fell on the sixth day of travel. “I want to keep going,” Rufe told the men. “A little longer, and we’ll sleep in actual beds tonight.”

To their credit, the men didn’t grumble; they simply kept going. How strange to end this journey without having once been attacked.

Lights glowed in the distance, some low to the ground, likely cottages, other higher ones from the castle windows. Hard to tell which rooms they were at this distance, but trying to guess kept Rufe’s mind occupied until he reached the front gates. Was Niam in one of those rooms? Stars glittered overhead, full dark now upon them.

One of the gate guards rushed forward. “Commander Rufe! We weren’t expecting you so soon. Shall I send a runner to the castle and inform King Draylon?”

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