Chapter 5

5

Centuries of uneventful stability may pass until a year comes when the world is irrevocably changed.

~ Prophet Tenolarc

Kaylina woke at first light, feeling more aroused than refreshed, since she’d dreamed of Vlerion. This time, he hadn’t been calling her unwise. He’d been bringing her to great heights of passion while wearing his clothes and an utterly calm expression. Was that what would happen once he consumed the altered berry? Her dreaming mind must have thought so. His detachment certainly hadn’t kept her from passionate dreams.

Hoping she hadn’t been making any noise, she turned toward the ashes of the fire, a few orange embers still providing warmth and light. On the far side, Vlerion sat on his log, watching her, his eyes intense.

She rubbed her face, worried she had been making noise. Fortunately, her brother hadn’t woken yet.

“Did you sleep at all?” Kaylina asked Vlerion but doubted he had. Not if he’d considered himself on watch.

“Plenty these past nights at home, with no work to occupy me.”

“Well, that was a solid no.”

He managed a smile that drew some of the intensity from his eyes and looked toward the lake. “It’s fine. I?—”

He rose, hand going to his sword, his gaze whipping toward the path that had brought them into the area. The taybarri had been snoozing near that section of the beach, but they were also rising. They must have heard something.

Levitke bounded over to stand next to Kaylina. Crenoch whuffed and swished his tail.

“Does that mean trouble is or isn’t coming?” Kaylina pushed herself to her feet.

Levitke looked at her pocket, then bared her teeth in the direction of the trail. No growls accompanied the gestured, so Kaylina doubted a serious threat approached. The glances toward the pocket might mean Levitke felt the need to defend whatever honey drops remained.

“More taybarri,” Vlerion said, “and presumably rangers.”

The grimness in his voice surprised Kaylina until she remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be in the preserve. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere except on his family estate.

“You should hide,” she whispered, rushing to stand at his side.

She almost stood in front of him as voices sounded in the trees, a distinct, “Almost there,” among them. But it wasn’t as if people would miss seeing the taller and broader Vlerion behind her. And he did nothing to indicate he would grab Crenoch and hide in the woods. He lifted his chin as he faced the trail, doubtless too honorable to consider doing anything but accepting whatever punishment came as a result of his choice.

“It’s a pain in the ass following all the tenets in that book, isn’t it?” Kaylina muttered.

Vlerion arched his eyebrows and glanced at her, but the first rider appeared before he could reply.

“Yes, they’re up here, Captain,” Sergeant Jankarr said, his own eyebrows rising as he rode onto the beach with his taybarri. “Together, like you said.”

“Of course they’re together,” came Targon’s exasperated voice.

He and two more rangers on taybarri followed Jankarr onto the beach, Targon aiming his scowl at Vlerion and Kaylina like a javelin. “You’re supposed to be on your estate, Lord Vlerion.”

“Levitke found me and informed me that Trainee Korbian was in danger,” Vlerion said.

“She informed you, did she?” Targon turned his scowl on Levitke, who swished her tail and bared her teeth again, guarding the honey pocket from the newcomers. More than one taybarri had its snout turned upward, nostrils sampling the cool dawn air—and probably noting not the honey drops in her pocket but the heavy pouches of pure honey in the packs. “I didn’t realize any of our young taybarri had developed speech.”

Kaylina almost pointed out that Levitke had spoken telepathically to her before, but that probably had more to do with her druid blood than the ranger mounts developing the ability to project words to humans. As far as she knew, only the silver-furred elders could do that.

“When she showed up at the estate without Kaylina, I knew she was in trouble,” Vlerion said.

Targon looked Kaylina up and down, his dark mood not disturbing him so greatly that he couldn’t let his gaze linger on her chest.

Not unlike Levitke, Kaylina bared her teeth, though the gesture was for Targon rather than his honey-seeking mount.

“She looks fine to me.” Targon didn’t leer for long before focusing on Vlerion again.

“She has recovered since I arrived,” Vlerion said.

“Woke her with a kiss, did you?”

“Something like that. Does an inquisitor or the new spymaster seek me?”

“Not yet. Not as far as I know. After last night’s events, your inquiry is probably on hold.”

“Events?” Vlerion asked.

Behind Kaylina, Frayvar stirred, wiping crud from his eyes and blinking blearily at the rangers.

Targon gestured at Jankarr. “I sent the sergeant to inform you as soon as I heard. You’d know by now if you had been where you were supposed to be.”

Chin up, Vlerion waited for his captain to get to the point.

Jankarr was the one to speak first. “The king is dead, Vlerion.”

Surprised, Kaylina didn’t react for a long moment.

Vlerion’s only response was to grow grim. Very grim. “An assassin?”

His eyes darkened with… was that self-recrimination? He couldn’t blame himself, could he? Because he hadn’t been there to defend the elder King Gavatorin?

“No,” Targon said. “At least not from what I was told. The newly appointed Spymaster Milnor—” an eyebrow twitch was his only acknowledgment as to why a new appointment had needed to be made, “—sent word that Gavatorin died of natural causes. Old age. Of course, there are drugs that can kill while simulating that, and I believe his personal physician is examining the body, but Gavatorin is— was —old.” Targon shrugged. “Either way, I received orders to round up all the rangers in the field.” He delivered another eyebrow twitch toward Vlerion. “Also those waywardly disobeying their exile. With the Virts always poised for an uprising, and Prince Enrikon gone whoring and gambling down in whatever manor the royal family owns along the southern coast, there could be trouble in town this week.”

“Will the senior lords accept the prince as the next ruler?” Vlerion asked.

“They’ll have to. He’s Gavatorin’s only acknowledged heir.”

“Maybe you should volunteer for the gig, Vlerion.” Jankarr smiled, and it sounded like a joke, but his eyes were wistful.

“I’ve no right to rule,” Vlerion said, meeting Targon’s eyes.

Kaylina didn’t know if that was true—just because his ancestor had abdicated didn’t mean he couldn’t be considered if there wasn’t another good option, did it?—but she understood why he wouldn’t push for it. The same reason his ancestor had walked away from the throne. A king couldn’t be a danger to his own people whenever he lost his temper. Or—she glanced at Vlerion—felt lustful toward a woman.

“You do, ” Targon said, “but you’re even younger than Enrikon. People would object.”

“ I wouldn’t,” one of the thus far quiet rangers said from behind Targon and Jankarr. He nodded politely toward Vlerion. “He’s proven himself in battle and never whores or gambles or has any vices at all that we’ve seen.”

“Except breaking his exile,” Targon grumbled.

“I don’t understand why he is exiled, my lord,” the ranger said.

“Find Sabor’s corpse and ask it.” Targon pointed at the taybarri. “Mount up. I don’t know what’s been going on out here—” when he’d ridden up, he must have noticed the torn-up ground and thrashed vegetation where the battle had occurred, because he looked pointedly in that direction, “—but you’ll all come back to the city with me.” He scowled at Frayvar and Kaylina. “Don’t you two have an eating house to run?”

“My brother started all the meals before we left, and we have staff who handled the service.” Kaylina hoped that was true— when she’d originally left with Frayvar for this mission, she’d assumed they would make it back by the time dinner began. “We came out to gather honey to make more mead.”

“That’s the dire reason you had to break your exile, Vlerion?” Targon asked. “Sating your sweet tooth?”

“Trainee Korbian was knocked unconscious in the druid ruins,” Vlerion said. “For many hours. It was concerning.”

“More concerning is why anyone would lack complete common sense and go in those ruins,” Targon said with disgust, turning his mount toward the trail.

Vlerion’s significant nod toward Kaylina promised he appreciated what she’d been trying to do in there. She wished she’d found something to help him. Instead, she’d apparently called out over who knew how many miles to everyone with druid blood.

“Come on,” Targon grumbled, waving for them to follow.

Kaylina and Frayvar climbed onto Levitke’s back. She gave no indication that she minded the load. With their sturdy builds, the taybarri could carry—and pull—more than horses could, but since Kaylina had learned how intelligent they were, she hated using them for toting burdens. She slipped a couple of honey drops to Levitke before they joined the others.

“Vlerion,” Targon added as they headed down the trail, “you’d better hope nobody who dislikes you noticed your absence.”

Jankarr gave Vlerion a sad look over his shoulder.

“The king’s death and what will happen next to the kingdom should be people’s primary concern now,” Vlerion said.

“It should be.” Targon’s tone suggested it wouldn’t be, not for everyone.

Kaylina shook her head, wondering how it was that some people adored Vlerion and wished he were king while so many others wanted him dead.