Page 105 of Set in Darkness
Chapter Thirty-Eight
They knew they had no chance of saving Jarryn once he was in the clutches of Nevari and beyond the borders of Desanne.
The time they had lost in Leander’s efforts to get back to the city of Saeren and find Verin were not completely wasted: as Verin had already explained, they had always had eyes on Leander given how important (and potentially dangerous) he was.
This meant that they had already been aware of Jarryn’s capture. In his wisdom, Verin had had the mercenaries who had taken Jarryn followed. He had a good idea of where Jarryn was—Verin’s trackers were the best in the country.
It meant that, mere days later, Leander found himself hiding atop a hill, looking down upon a temporary, but well-built and heavily manned, campsite located a few miles east of the small town of Xelvarn in Eamore.
He wondered what, if any, deals Nevari had withEamore’s government to allow him to operate his military force within their borders. He wondered if Nevari had bothered to ask, rash as he had become, driven close to insanity by his need to bring his brother to his knees. Given the distance travelled, and time taken to get to Saeren and back, Leander estimated that Nevari had not moved since capturing his brother. The audacity was astounding: a message to all of Vyrica that he would not be cowed.
“Jarryn is down there,” Verin announced confidently from his prone position beside Leander. “I can sense him.”
“Is he injured?” Leander asked quietly.
“I do not know the prince well. I am not as well attuned to him,” Verin answered, frowning. He glanced at his younger brother. “What of you? Does the bond tell you anything?”
Leander shook his head. “I don’t understand how it works. We did not have long to... experiment. Not that Jarryn would ever want to take advantage of me like that.”
“Of course,” Venser muttered from Verin’s other side. “The superior moral integrity of Prince Jarryn Eleinium. We should all bow and scrape when presented to him.”
Leander bristled. “You would do well?—”
“Enough.” Verin hissed, bringing an end to his siblings’ squabbling before it could even begin. “Let’s go back and report what we know to the others.”
The three brothers crawled some way down the hill before standing and hastening in their retreat to the waiting group of rescuers.
“Well?” Cade, one of Jarryn’s last remaining guards had proven himself to be the most anxious of their crew. Hehad thrown himself into this rescue mission with gusto, but he was also the most vocal when it came to questioning the ideas and strategies of the Saerian members of the group. “Is he there?”
“Yes,” Verin replied with a small smile of triumph. “He’s definitely there. And so, I think, is his brother.”
“Nevari? Then they have won.” Cade all but wailed in despair.
“No they haven’t.” Composed as ever, Verin rested a hand on Cade’s shoulder, instantly calming Cade’s mind.
Venser nodded in agreement. “It adds an exciting challenge: there is no harm in the termination of mercenaries. It is a different beast entirely to do battle with the political quagmire of Saerian soldiers attacking Desanne’s King while in the lands of Eamore.”
“Exciting? Not the word I would use, brother,” Leander murmured, secretly proud of himself for keeping his anger in check after the sheer number of times Venser had displayed his callous indifference when considering the wellbeing of Jarryn.
This was nothing more than a job to Venser and Verin. To Leander, however, this meant his life. He needed Jarryn to breathe, to survive.
“Venser raises a valid point, though, regardless of how he phrased it. We cannot go in with swords raised high and kill anyone we come across. Our planning no longer applies. Think, people. We need a new plan, and fast,” Verin intoned, looking around at each of his chosen, elite men.
Leander stepped forward. “We don’t have time for this. Now Nevari has him, I don’t think he will wait to return toEslirie to put Jarryn on trial. He will just execute him, such is his anger.”
“What would you know of Nevari? You’ve never even laid eyes on the man,” Cade asked viciously. “I am sure the usurper king wishes for a public trial an execution. That will be his final victory, the final message across all the world that the throne is his.”
Leander shared a quick glance with Verin and, instead of admitting the truth, he said, “I just know the type.”
Cade seemed like he didn’t want to accept this: but far be it for him to question the knowledge and wisdom of a god.
“What do you want to do then, Leander?” Verin asked softly.
“Send me in.” He spoke without deliberation. It just seemed like the most realistic solution.
Venser barked out a laugh. “You are powerless and have no combat experience. You’ll be killed in minutes.”
“But you just said yourself that this cannot be a combative mission. Political nightmare, remember?”
