Of Steel and Scale (The Drakkon Kin Trilogy #1)

Chapter 8.2

Nine flights.

Images accompanied the answer—a flight was basically what we called a grace, and consisted of a queen, the other, generally younger, breeding females, a gaggle of males who vied for the attention of the smaller females, and the elders who helped tend and protect the eggs and the drakklings.

And in the Black Glass Mountains?

I knew drakkons existed here, I just had no idea how many.

Reds scattered. Warm caves big enough hard find here. Two flights known. Why ask?

Curiosity, mainly . I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. If I was doing the sums right, that meant there were twelve, maybe thirteen, queens in all, if we included her. If Damon can come up with a means of protecting drakkons, do you think any of them would trust him enough to allow the magic?

Not trust him. Trust me.

Surprise rose. They would listen to you?

Am queen.

Yes, but not the only one.

Biggest.

The arrogance in her reply made me smile.

Could mate protect us? she added.

Possibly only the queens ? —

If we safe, easier to protect flight and young. I like this plan.

So do I, but I can’t promise it’ll happen.

I trust.

She was putting a whole lot of trust in me already, and that in some ways was scary.

Not , came her reply. We kin .

I smiled. We are .

I reached back into my pack, grabbing some jerky to munch on while I watched Damon. His spelling was close to culmination now.

I think, Kaia said, after a few minutes, will allow.

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what in the wind’s name she was talking about.

Saddle, she said. Can use. Ride atop, behind neck spines. Leave claws free.

My heart began to beat a whole lot faster—and while there was no denying some of it was based in fear, most of it was excitement. To soar high in the sky astride her would be… Well, it would be the realization of a long-held fantasy.

I cleared my throat and somehow kept my voice on an even keel. It also means I can more easily use my fire to protect us both.

Fire kill winged ones?

Don’t know yet.

Hope do.

So do I. I climbed to my feet and stretched my limbs—immediately regretting it when my shoulder protested and sent pain spearing down my left arm. Painkillers were immediately added to the must-get list. You should rest the night, Kaia, to give the patches time to work. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.

We fly? Check dead rider?

I hesitated and then nodded. My father might not be happy about the prospect, but he’d also realize that getting hold of their armor was a vital step forward in finding a means to get through it.

Kaia rumbled her satisfaction, then lowered her head for a final eye ridge scratch. I happily complied, then picked up my pack, walked over to grab Damon’s, and continued on over to Kele. She was perched on one of Gria’s outstretched claws, leaning back against the edge of one nostril, her expression a mix of delight and disbelief.

“You’re game, resting so close to a drakkling’s mouth.” I stopped and offered her my right hand. “If she dreamed about swooping down after capra and opened her mouth to capture one, you’d be dinner.”

She laughed, caught my hand, and bounced up. “No doubt, but hey, what a way to go.”

“Says the woman who fussed about a little knife stab.”

She laughed again and picked up her pack, trailing behind me while I walked around the sleeping Gria and across to Damon. He turned as I approached and smiled wearily. His face was pale and so drawn it was almost skeletal, and his eyes were sunken pools of faded blue and red. He didn’t say anything, he simply caught my hand, drew me into his arms, and held me. His weariness washed over me, a cloak so thick it was almost stifling.

“That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.” His voice was cracked and whisper soft. “It usually takes two of us to raise a shield of that magnitude.”

“For Túxn’s sake, Damon, you should have said?—”

“Perhaps.”

“There’s no perhaps about it, husband. Next time, mention it.”

“Perhaps.” He chuckled softly, though it held little of its usual vigor. “Tell Kaia the shield will flash gold if you, me, or Kele approach, and red if anyone else does?—”

“Will it stop weapons?” I cut in.

“Yes, although anything we carry will get through. If the shield is continuously flashing, it means someone is magically attacking it, but it’ll hold long enough to give them time to leave.”

Is good. Thank.

I repeated it, and he smiled. “We males do have some uses, Kaia.”

Some , she grumbled, amusement heavy in her tone.

I handed his pack to Kele, then I swung around and slipped my right arm around his waist. He half raised his left arm, as if to rest it around my shoulders, then obviously remembered my wound and wrapped it around my waist, under my pack, instead.

“You want me to take the lead?” Kele said, shouldering his pack. “You can shout directions from behind if I go the wrong way.”

I nodded, and she continued on, happily humming as she went through the tunnel. The barrier rippled briefly as she went through it, but didn’t flash any particular color. Its energy briefly caressed my skin as we followed her, though I suspected I only felt it because I was holding on to Damon. “How long will these barriers last? Because it hardly seems worth the cost if they’re only going to last eight or so hours.”

“A question you perhaps should have asked before I expended all that energy.”

“Probably.” I glanced at him. “Does that mean you’ll have to keep coming up here to reenergize them?”

“No, because I leashed these spells to a couple of steam vents. The spell should draw on the earth’s energy to regenerate. In theory, anyway.”

“You’ve never done it before?”

I couldn’t help the surprise in my voice, and a tired smile tugged at his lips. “It would be fair to say that the last few days has provided a number of firsts.”

“For us both.” I paused, easing us both past a narrower section of tunnel. “How long will it take you to regain your strength from your exertions?”

He quirked an eyebrow at me, devilment in his eyes. “And once again the specter of me being unable to perform my husbandly duties arises.”

“No, it’s simply a matter of practicality,” I replied dryly, though I couldn’t deny that was a part of it. “We’ve been on the go for over twenty-four hours now, and I was hoping we could use it as an excuse to get out of the consummation feast. That’s on tonight, remember.”

“I doubt us being unable to attend would stop the celebrations, anyway. It’s basically just another excuse for our friends and family to have a party.”

“True.” Though in times past, when virginity was far more prized than it was now, the consummation feast came after an inspection of the bedding to see if the wife had bled when penetrated. Too bad if she happened to be a rider because, hey, that scrap of skin designating so-called purity was easily torn when riding, especially bareback.

At least it was one custom that no longer existed, even if arranged marriages did.

Our pace through the mountain was by necessity slow, and while Damon’s condition didn’t deteriorate, it also only improved in small increments. We stopped a number of times to eat and rest, and that helped, but his weariness remained evident. He kept reassuring me he’d be fine once he slept and had a decent meal, but I’d heard too many tales of witches pushing it too far to be convinced.

Although by the time we finally reached Esan, he wasn’t the only one shaking with tiredness.

Guards met us with sets of orders—one for me to report to my father, and one for him to report to his. I told Kele to go rest, then turned to Damon.

He brushed my cheek with his knuckles, a featherlight caress that had my breath catching. “Whoever gets to the room first orders the meal.”

I nodded, my gaze dropping to his lips as the urge to kiss him hit. But our fathers were waiting, the guards were watching, and I was a soldier more than a princess or a wife. There were protocols to follow.

At least some of the time, anyway.

A smile twitched the lips I was desperate to kiss, an indication he knew exactly what I was thinking, but he didn’t say anything. He let his hand slide from my skin, then stepped back and, after giving me a somewhat formal half bow, left. I drew in a deep breath and made my way through the various gates, then up the stairs to the administrative and military building. My boots echoed on the polished stone floors, and the guards at the far end had the door opened by the time I approached. Which was good, because I think if I’d stopped, even for a fraction of a second, I might well have fallen.

I nodded in acknowledgment of their salutes and strode into the semi-darkness. My father was standing at the far end of the long table, studying the maps scattered in front of him. Mom wasn’t there, but Vaya and Jarin were, as was Harris, our master of the fleet.

The maps, I noted, all appeared to be of the isles and the seas around them. They were obviously discussing various options for rescuing whomever might survive there.

If anyone survived there.

Maybe that was why Mom wasn’t here. Maybe she simply couldn’t confront the reality of losing everyone and everything she had loved growing up. Her immediate family might be safe here, but she came from a large extended family, and many, including my cousin Garran, hadn’t been able to make the journey. Mom was the strongest, most sensible person I knew, but even she could be swamped by a tragedy this large.

And it wouldn’t be the first....

I pushed that thought away determinedly. We would find a way to stop them. We had to. The only other choice was to cede them our lands, and that was never going to happen. Not while any of us had breath left to fight. Not while I had breath left.

My father glanced up as I entered, his gaze sweeping me and relief briefly evident. But there was a tension in him, a sadness, that had my skin twitching. Something else had happened.

“Report, Captain Silva.”

I did so, fleshing out the details I’d scribed earlier. When I’d finished, he nodded and said, “I’ll contact our trading partners and see if any of them have had contact with such a race. We’ll also post guards in the blue vein and main tunnel—that will at least give us some forewarning of an attack. What of your drakkons?”

“Protected.”

“Good. Good.” He glanced down at the maps, and tension rippled briefly across his shoulders. When he looked up again, the tension within me increased. He really didn’t want to ask whatever it was he was about to.

“Captain, this is a question rather than an order.... Can your queen fly over the five islands and give us an aerial report?”

Surprise flickered through me. Surprise and concern. “What else has happened?”

“They’ve blocked our harbor,” Harris said. “We drove them off before they could destroy the fleet, but we nevertheless lost two galleons in the attack and a dozen men.”

The fact that we had been able to drive them off was at least something. “And the ship you were sending to pick up the survivors from the cutters?”

“Found fourteen and recovered four bodies. They are on their way to Hopetown.”

Hopetown was a long way from the islands, but in current circumstances, might be the only safe port left in this section of East Arleeon. “How in the wind’s name did they block the harbor?”

“Magic. Blood magic,” my father said heavily. “By the time our earth witches were aware of the spell and tried to counter it, it was too late. They destroyed half the peninsula and dumped all the rubble into the harbor’s mouth.”

“It’s going to take days for our witches to remove it all,” Harris added. “We need to know what the situation is for the survivors over on those islands.”

Presuming those islands hadn’t suffered the complete decimation of their population that Eastmead had, of course. He didn’t say that, but he didn’t have to. We were all thinking it.

Then I frowned. “What time did they attack?”

“Just before dawn,” my father said. “Why?”

“When I saw the armored bird and its rider, it was just after dawn, and the creature had what looked to be some sort of hood over its eyes. It might well mean they’re sunlight sensitive and therefore unable to hunt during the day.”

“Not necessarily,” Jarin said, his voice a low rumble that matched his stout figure. “Hooding is a commonly used procedure on gray hawks to calm them down, especially when they’re young and new to training.”

“Yes, but every attack so far has either been at night or just before dawn. That does suggest some limitations.”

“Meaning a flight over to the island might be safely done during the day.” The glance Vaya cast my father suggested they’d been arguing over that point, and I wasn’t entirely surprised. He might be my commander, but he was also my father, and those two halves would always be at war when it came to ordering me into dangerous situations. “We must risk it, Commander. We have no real choice here.”

“Except the question was not answered.” His voice was flat, but his gaze and his attention was on me. “And I will not make it a command, simply because there is only one person in this room who can command your drakkon. Additional air witches have been called in. It remains possible that by combining their powers they could transport a small scouting force to Jakarra.”

“And it could yet take days for those summoned to arrive,” Jarin said. “Depending on the level of destruction that has happened on those islands, it’s possible those who remain may not have that much time left.”

My father didn’t reply. He just held my gaze, willing me to refuse, wanting me to refuse, even though he utterly agreed with everything being said. Because he knew, without a doubt, that I would not ask Kaia to do this alone. I would go with her, protect her, as much as I could.

“I will ask her when I check on her tomorrow morning. The decision is hers to make, not mine.”

Will , she said. Her mental tones were distant but nevertheless determined. White hair feed Gria?

I briefly closed my eyes. There was a part of me that had wanted her to refuse, because she was risking everything for us, and we so didn’t deserve it. Yes, Kele will ensure Gria is fed.

Good. We fly.

I opened my eyes and met my father’s again. He knew the decision had already been made. That was evident in the brief flicker of guilt and understanding through his gaze. But all he did was nod. “Until then, get some rest, Captain. You look dead on your feet. Oh, and tonight’s celebrations have been canceled.”

Because it was wrong to celebrate when so much death had happened recently. Again, he didn’t say it, but we were all thinking it.

“And what of my impending move to Zephrine?”

“Postponed. Until this problem has been resolved, I will not lose one of my better captains.” Or indeed risk his daughter on the long sea journey to Zephrine’s warmer shores.

He didn’t say that, of course, but I could nevertheless see it in his eyes.

I ignored the thick surge of relief, stepped back, and with a salute that wasn’t as crisp as normal, turned and made my way out of the administration building and across to the hospital quarters. Maree—a rotund woman with thick blonde hair and ruddy cheeks—greeted me as I walked in the door and led me without question into the nearest curtained booth.

“Strip off and let’s have a look at that shoulder of yours,” she said, as I perched on the edge of the bed.

I obeyed. “Did my father contact you?”

“No.” Amusement danced in her blue eyes. “Your husband did. And he’s a rather gorgeous specimen of manhood, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Nothing wrong with the truth.” I winced a little as she lightly ran her fingers across my shoulder and then down my back. She wasn’t a healer as such; her skill lay more in divining what was happening within the body, thereby providing a clearer picture for those who healed or repaired with magic or knife. But she also was a skilled herbalist, and her numbing potions were second to none. “Was that all he came here for?”

She cackled. “Indeed not. I ended up giving the lad a revitalization potion. It’ll stave off the tiredness long enough for you two to have some fun. Because, girl, that man is made for fun.”

“Indeed, he is.” Even though we hadn’t yet gotten that far. Hopefully, tonight, we’d remedy that. “Which is why I need something to stave off the shoulder pain.”

“Easy enough to do. Good job on the shoulder, by the way. Ain’t sensing any sign of infection, and the beasties that bit you didn’t tear anything vital.”

“I was lucky.”

“You’ve made a habit of that, I would say. Túxn obviously favors you.” She moved across to the glass-fronted cabinets that lined the rear wall and were filled with all manner of tubs, jars, and herbs, pulled out a squat bowl of what looked like pale clay, then returned. “This will numb the pain for eight hours, and it’s also waterproof. Apparently he has seduction plans involving a bath.”

My head snapped around, and she laughed, a deep and bawdy sound.

“He told you that?”

“Not in so many words, but I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve learned to read between the lines.” She scooped the muck onto my skin and rubbed it in, her movements quick but sure. The slow throbbing ache quickly eased. “Better?”

I nodded and then hesitated. “I’ve got to head over to Jakarra tomorrow?—”

“Heard about the attack on the islands,” she cut in. “Any news as to how bad it is?”

“Not yet—the communication lines are down. I’ll be traveling light, but I was wondering—do you have anything transportable that I could take with me? Painkillers, numbing lotion, stuff to battle infection? I’ll be taking the bone straps and sealer, of course, but that might not be enough.”

“If it’s bad over there, whatever you can carry will not be enough.”

“I know, but it’s a start, and it’ll be better than arriving with nothing.”

She nodded. “What time are you leaving?”

“Dawn?”

“I’ll have a bag ready and waiting for you then.”

“Thanks, Maree.”

“No problem at all.” She shuffled over to another cabinet and retrieved a small vial of greenish goop. “Now drink this, then go have fun with that sexy man of yours.”

“Oh, I very much intend to.” I accepted the vial a little dubiously but nevertheless uncorked it and gulped it down. A shudder ran through me. “That tastes horrible.”

“But it’ll work miracles on your stamina, trust me on that,” she said, with another bawdy laugh that followed me out the doors.

With a grin on my face, I strode across the courtyard and ran up the steps to the palace, acknowledging the guards as I headed to the first floor. I hesitated, glanced down toward my parents’ suite, then followed the twitch of instinct and headed down. However badly I wanted sex, I needed to make sure Mom was okay first.

The guard outside their door watched me approach, a smile touching his lips. He was a bull of a man and had manned her door for as long as I could remember. “She said you’d be here in ten. She’s ordered shamoke and a meal for you.”

“How is she, Lenny?” We’d long ago dispensed with formalities, at least in situations where there were few others around.

“Coping. You’ve only just missed your grandparents.”

“Damn. I would have liked to see them.”

He opened the door for me. “Plenty of time, Lady Bryn.”

I wasn’t so sure of that, but I nodded my thanks and entered the room. In many respects, it echoed my own quarters, only twice the size. My parents also had additional rooms—such as a dining and a living room—attached, so they could entertain guests less formally.

Mom was standing near the window slit that looked out over the courtyard, but turned as I entered. Her face was pale, drawn, and there was grief in her eyes, but overwhelmed she definitely wasn’t.

“You heard?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “I’ve just made my report to Father. He also mentioned that my move to Zephrine has been postponed.”

“Yes, and it was, surprisingly, Aric’s idea.”

“I thought he was keen to get his heir home?”

“I suspect he’s decided he needs a more reliable source of information temporarily based here.”

I snorted. Yep, that definitely sounded like something Aric would think.

She motioned me toward the table, then poured me a large cup of shamoke. I sipped it gratefully. Unsurprisingly, it was just the way I liked it—sweet and black. “I take it your father has asked you to journey across to Jakarra?”

“Well, he asked me to send Kaia, but he was well aware I’d be going with her.”

“He was against it.”

“I picked that up while we were talking.” I studied her for a moment. “You’re the one that suggested it, weren’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, and I know the risk to both you and the queen, but we must do this, Bryn. I— we —must know the situation there before any further plans can be made.”

And that was the practicality of the woman who’d once been the bow master speaking, rather than my mother.

She picked up a bowl and spooned the thick stew sitting on the warmer tray into it before handing it to me. “If there are survivors, you will not find them in any of the towns, if such even exist anymore. They would have retreated to caves high in the Karthling Mountains.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I had no idea there were caves up there.” And I’d certainly spent enough time chasing Garran through that area over the multiple summers I’d spent there as a child.

“Few do. It was a well-guarded secret, known only to those who’d be responsible for evacuation in a time of crisis.”

And this was certainly a crisis. “If they are up there, why wouldn’t they have scribed?”

“Because the area is volcanic, and much like parts of the Black Glass Mountains here, the ability to scribe is restricted.”

“How big are the caves?” My stomach rumbled in sudden hunger, and I hurriedly scooped up some stew.

“They once held drakkons. They could hold all of Jakarra if needed.” She looked away, though not before I’d seen the sheen of tears. “That would not be the case here. We’ll be lucky if half the inhabitants survived.”

“Is there anywhere in that area for Kaia to land and bunker down? I can’t direct her into the heart of the island without risking an attack from whatever ground forces the gilded riders have, or even our own people.”

“You should not go to ground. It is too dangerous.”

“I’ll have no choice, and you know it.”

She knew. The guilt that flashed across her features said her objection was perfunctory—a statement that had to be said but never meant. She reached for one of the scrolls sitting at the end of the table—there were three, two large and one much smaller—and unrolled it. It was a detailed map of Jakarra, one I’d not seen before. After putting a couple of cups on either end to stop it from curling up again, she pointed to the large, U-shaped mountain range that ran around the western edge of the island.

“This is the Karthling Mountains. This section here”—she pointed to the longer of the mountains’ two arms—“is the Helvede Range, and holds the network of caves any survivors would have retreated to.”

I leaned forward with a frown. “That looks dangerously close to the main port and Illistin. The gilded riders would have seen their retreat.”

“Yes, but between Illistin and the main cavern entrance lies a series of old, deep crevices that can only be crossed by bridges. They will have been destroyed in the retreat.”

I nodded. I remembered those bridges, and they’d scared the life out of me as a child. They were basically an arc of stone just wide enough for a wagon to pass over, and had nothing in the way of protective railings, which sometimes made crossing tricky with the fierce winds that often hit the island.

“Destroying the bridges won’t stop a flighted enemy.”

“No, but the nature of the mountain itself will. The entrances to the caves are hidden and narrow. Their birds won’t get in. That gives survivors a fighting chance.”

Not against a blood mage capable of moving rock, it didn’t. But I didn’t give voice to that thought. Mom would know that just as well much as me. “Where is the old aerie, then, if not in the Helvede arm of the mountains?”

She pointed to the leeward side of the shorter arm. “Here.”

“Meaning Kaia will have to drop me off and then retreat while I head in and look for survivors.” I scooped up more stew and munched on it contemplatively while I studied the map. I might have roamed through the forests and foothills of these mountains, but my overall knowledge of them wasn’t great. “Obviously it’d be too dangerous to dismount anywhere near Illistin, so where do you suggest?”

She pointed to the windward side of the mountain’s longer arm, near the point where it joined the trunk. “There’s a wide ledge underneath the summit’s peak here. There shouldn’t be too much snow up there at this time of year, but our winters sometime linger, and it can at times be deep, so ensure you’re wearing appropriate boots. There’s a series of caves midway between the ledge and the peak but you can’t miss the right one—it looks like a bent key. The others are shallow caves that aren’t part of the main system.”

“And once inside? How am I going to find the survivors without wandering through the tunnels for days?”

“With this.” She reached for the second scroll and unrolled it. It was a detailed drawing of a tunnel system.

I glanced at her. “Where in the wind’s name did this come from?”

“Esan’s archives. This is where you’ll enter.” She pointed to the left side of the map, then traced her finger along a series of tunnels until she reached a large, oval-shaped cavern. “You’ll likely find the bulk of survivors here. It was adapted long ago as a storm shelter, and provisions regularly rotated to keep them usable.”

“Meaning as long as they can keep our winged foe out of the system, they can survive for weeks or even months.”

“A month would be pushing it, but in theory, yes.”

I finished my stew and picked up the cup of shamoke. The southern exit was remote, and it was unlikely our gilded foe would or even could check every cavern entrance in that area to find our survivors—so why hadn’t the survivors made their way up to that peak and scribed us? Surely any well-provisioned storm shelter would have included a couple of scribe pens, even if they couldn’t be used within the mountain itself.

If they hadn’t attempted it, there would likely be only one reason—they had no one fit enough, uninjured enough, or familiar enough with the deeper tunnel system to do so. Mom would be well aware of all that, but I still had to ask, “Do you think they’ll have posted guards at the southern entrance?”

She hesitated. “Unlikely. They will be concentrating on protecting the main entrances, though I have no doubt watchers will be posted at the three tunnels leading into the shelter cavern.”

Her use of the term watchers rather than guards suggested she didn’t believe many of Jakarra’s fighting force had survived. It was logical that those who had would be posted to the more likely access points.

“Can I take this?” I had a fairly good memory for directions, but too much was at stake right now to make a mistake and go the wrong way.

“This one would be too cumbersome, but I drew up a smaller one and marked the right path.” She handed me the final scroll. “I have one more thing for you.”

She turned and walked across the room to the large alcove that held all her clothing. After a few minutes, she returned with a blackwood short bow and a quiver full of arrows.

Blackwood bows were rare here in Esan, as the trees really only grew well in the five islands, but they had a natural elasticity, a sweetness of draw, and a cast second to none, and those three things made bows crafted from them prized possessions. This was Mom’s bow—one she’d been gifted when she became bow master so long ago.

She placed them on the table next to me. “I want you to take these.”

“Mom, I have a bow?—”

“But you do not have a bow like this, nor do you have arrows as deadly as these.” She drew one free of the quiver and held it up. Even in the wan light filtering through the light wells overhead, the decidedly crude glass arrowhead gleamed with a deadly blue-white light.

“Ithican glass?” My gaze shot to hers. “How?”

“They are shards—waste, if you will. Jakarra imported them from Ithica for decades, using the larger flints for fishing spears and the smaller for arrowheads. If anything can penetrate the winged ones’ armor, it will be these.”

Because there were few things Ithican glass couldn’t penetrate. “How many of these arrows have we got?”

“What we have—both in arrows and in spears—I brought with me from Jakarra. I have no idea what supplies remain there, but it is a long time since they used spears to hunt sea life.”

“And Ithica? Have they been approached to buy more?”

“Indeed yes, but we have not yet received a reply. Even if we are able to purchase enough to cover our needs, the distance between our two continents means it could take weeks for it to arrive. I fear we do not have that time, Bryn.”

I feared the very same thing. “Does Father know you’re giving me these?”

She smiled. “We keep no secrets from each other. No married couple should.”

“Your marriage is far different to mine. You love Dad, whereas I—” I cut the rest off and shrugged. I had no idea what I actually felt for Damon. Yes, he was attractive and sexy, and I liked what I knew of him so far, but we were still strangers in so many ways that really mattered.

“He is a good man, Bryn, even if he comes from bad stock. When the darkness comes, you should trust him, even when common sense suggests otherwise.”

Alarm slithered through me. “You’re dreaming again?”

She half raised a shoulder. “Whispers, nothing more.”

“What have those whispers said? What haven’t you told me?”

“All I know is that Aric lies. About what, I cannot say. Not yet.”

“Aric, not Damon?”

“The whispers have only said he can be trusted.”

That was something. Mom’s dreams, while few and far between, were rarely wrong. I just had to hope this wasn’t one of those rare occasions. “Why is Aric still here? I thought he was going home before the feast?”

“He decided to wait until we knew more of the situation at the Beak before he did.”

“You believe him?”

“In that, yes.”

I finished my stew and leaned back, feeling better if no less tired. “Anything else?”

“No.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Go play with your husband, while you still have the time.”

I pushed to my feet. “Because a comment like that isn’t going to raise any concerns about what the future brings.”

It was wryly said, and she chuckled softly, catching my hand and drawing me closer to drop a kiss on my cheek. “It was not meant to be anything more than a reminder that war gathers on the horizon, and we must take our pleasure where and when we can. Go. I will talk to you tomorrow morning before you leave.”

I nodded, picked up the bow and quiver, and then left.

The time had come to seduce my husband.