Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

Kyrin banished these impulses and talk of their grandfather when Kaden dropped back to join them. He wouldn’t have nearly as much self-restraint if he knew how she felt. They welcomed him into their little group, and from there talk was pleasant and enjoyable. Though they’d spent so little time together since childhood, their easy-going camaraderie had not suffered.

But as much as Kyrin loved the time they had together, sadness crept in. At one point, when the three of them burst into laughter at a story Kaden shared from Tarvin Hall, Marcus glanced back at them. Though it was a brief look, Kyrin caught the expression of longing that crossed his face. Always he seemed caught between having a good time with his siblings and maintaining his performance as the responsible eldest son—the man their grandfather desired him to be. It was his choice, but Kyrin determined to find a little time before he left to talk, just the two of them. She wouldn’t let him leave feeling he’d missed out.

Kyrin rubbed her temples. This would be her second night in Auréa with a headache, though this one outdid the previous one. All she wanted was to scrub away the cosmetics that had begun to feel like plaster and fall into bed. But first, she walked Kaden out to the courtyard. Aertus and Vilai had risen behind them, and stars glittered in the black sky.

At the bottom of the palace steps, they stopped. Kyrin turned to Kaden and put a hand on his arm. Under her fingers, his muscles bunched as hard and tight as steel cords. The only time he’d relaxed all day was during their walk.

“Are you okay?”

Kaden shrugged and stared off at some far point beyond the palace walls.

“Wasn’t much of a celebration, was it?”

His eyes, now cold after the fiery intensity she’d seen most of the day, dropped down to her. “It was good to see Father. And Liam.”

Kyrin let out a heavy sigh. Her entire body felt weighted. “Don’t be too hard on Marcus. I know it’s difficult to understand how he idolizes Grandfather, but just imagine the intense pressure he’s
under. Grandfather had plans for him the moment he was born and given the same name. And don’t forget, I know they serve the emperor, but there’s nothing wrong with Marcus wanting to be a soldier. He’s wanted that since he was little.”

Kaden’s face soured. “Because that’s what Grandfather was always feeding us.”

“True, but I don’t think it’s the only reason. This is what he’s cut out for. Father is a soldier too, and that’s not because of Grandfather.”

Letting his head hang, Kaden blew out a long breath. “I know. I’m not angry with Marcus.
Not really. I just don’t like the way things are.”

“Neither do I, but we can’t do much about it. Now, you should go. The guards won’t like having to open the gate for you back at Tarvin Hall as it is.”

Kaden frowned. “Wish you were going back with me.”

“So do
I.”

His brows still bent, Kaden walked away and followed the path toward the gate.

J
ace’s arms ached when he lifted the saddle onto Niton’s back. Even though his lungs still burned when he breathed, the coughing fits had passed, thanks in large part to Rebekah’s remedy. Yet, the rest of his body only grew heavier with exhaustion. It would be their fifth day on the trail. The days were uneventful, but at night, dreams crept into his sleep. They had been a nightly plague to him for the first year after leaving slavery. Every morning he’d had to face the humiliation of coming down to breakfast knowing his anguished cries had carried through the walls. After a time, the peaceful life on the farm had ended them, and he had only suffered occasionally. But they were back now in the absence of peace and security.

Behind him, Rayad and Warin gathered their things. He had no doubt he’d kept them awake at times with his fitful tossing and mumbling. He clenched his teeth, the old humiliation rising.

Rayad’s tired voice broke into the silence. “How much farther is Landale Village?”

“Only another ten miles,” Warin answered.

“Good,” Rayad murmured, but a wash of dread hollowed out Jace’s insides. The closer they came to their destination, the harder it became to fight the urge to run. He wanted no part of any of this, but, for now, he dragged himself up every morning and followed Rayad.

Once his supplies were secure, he lifted Tyra up to her place on the packhorse and gave her head a gentle pat. She, at least, grew stronger every day.

When Rayad and Warin were ready, they all mounted and left their campsite. They’d seen nothing but thick forest since leaving Kinnim. Today didn’t seem to be any different, until they broke from the trees a couple of hours later to flourishing farmland stretching out ahead of them.

“This is the southern edge of Landale,” Warin announced. “Two more miles to Landale Village. We’ll stop there so you can meet Baron Grey, and then I’ll take you out to camp.”

They rode on and followed the well-worn path, where they passed many farmers tending the fields. The people waved happily at them. Life in Landale appeared to thrive under Baron Grey.

The miles passed, and soon they rode into the village. Jace blinked away the blur of fatigue to look around. It was a sleepy little place, not much bigger than Kinnim, and Landale Castle only just earned such a title. Yet it had
a certain strength to it. The gate stood open before them, and they rode into the courtyard where they dismounted and tied the horses at the hitching rail. From her place, Tyra sniffed the air with her ears perked and her alert eyes taking in the unfamiliar sights. Jace scratched her under the chin and commanded softly, “Stay, girl.”

She nuzzled his face and settled in to wait. He turned to follow Rayad and Warin, who were already on their way to the castle’s front entrance. He glanced back at Tyra, not completely comfortable leaving her in a strange place. Her black coat marked her as an object of fear, and people could work themselves into
a frenzy far too quickly.

“She’ll be all right,” Warin assured him. “No one will bother her.”

Jace silently took him at his word.

The butler let them inside with a familiar greeting for Warin, and instructed a footman to take them to Baron Grey’s office. Along the way, Jace scanned the interior. He’d witnessed some fine homes before, but never a castle. Everywhere was stone, and though colorful paintings and tapestries brightened the drab setting, such solid, confined surroundings brought memories of cold, barred cells. A tremor passed through him, and he fought the gnawing urge to escape to the outdoors.

Upon entering an office, they stopped. A thin, scholarly man with balding gray hair sat at a large desk. He looked up and gave Warin a broad grin.

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you, Morris,” Warin replied. “Is Baron Grey available?”

“I believe so. Let me inform him of your arrival.” The secretary rose and opened an ornate oak door at the far side of the room. Peeking in, he said, “My lord, Warin has returned. He has two other men with him.”

“Send them in,” came a deep voice.

Morris opened the door wider and beckoned Warin and his companions inside. The three of them stepped into the baron’s private office. Jace’s eyes swept the room. Rich wood pieces furnished the space, yet it was not overly lavish.

“Welcome back, Warin.”

Jace’s attention shifted to Baron Grey, who rose from behind a huge desk. He was silver-haired and more heavyset than Rayad. Jace measured his serious expression. The care lines in his forehead and dim shadows under his eyes gave him a tired appearance, but it softened in welcome.

“Thank you, my lord,” Warin responded.

“I take it you found the man you were seeking.” Baron Grey’s eyes focused on Rayad, alert despite the signs of fatigue.

“I did indeed. I’d like to introduce my old friend, Rayad.”

The baron came around the desk and extended his hand. “Welcome to Landale. I’ve heard much about you. I’m pleased to have you here.”

“Thank you, my lord. Warin has told me what you and your son are doing. I hope I can be of service.”

“Trask will be glad you’ve joined us. He’s the true force behind it, and it has his full devotion. I don’t think anything could dissuade him now.”

“It sounds like he’s doing a lot of good.”

“That is his hope.”

Warin introduced Jace then. Baron Grey studied him with a keen look, but he did not react to any oddities he may have noticed.

“Welcome, Jace. We’re thankful for any who join our cause.”

Jace gave a quick nod, but said nothing. He had followed Rayad, that was all.

“Is Trask around?” Warin asked.

“He left early this morning,” Grey answered. “He mentioned stopping in Marlton to call on Lady Anne. Wanted to get there before Goler’s men, I expect. But he should be at camp when you arrive. He’ll be glad you’ve returned.”

“The Korvic boys giving him trouble?”

“Not any more than usual. He has them on hunting duty to keep them away from camp. But he’ll be glad of your watchful eye when he’s not around.”

An amused smile played on Warin’s lips. “Have you received any word from Valcré since I left?”

“Nothing significant. Just the usual reports.”

“I guess that’s good news.”

Grey gave a brief nod. “Yes, the bloodshed hasn’t yet begun, and every day I pray it will be put off as long as possible. Wrong as it is, I cannot help but hope for some calamity to befall the emperor before he puts his plans in motion.”

“I think we’re all guilty of that,” Warin replied.

Baron Grey grunted in agreement, and his gaze returned to Rayad and Jace. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get to camp. You’ve had a long trip. I’m afraid I can’t promise anything more than a tent for shelter at night, but the men are working to make it more of a home.”

“As long as it provides a break from full days of riding, we’ll be fine,” Rayad replied.

The first hint of a smile appeared on Baron Grey’s face. They bid him farewell and left the office. On the way out of the castle, Rayad asked, “So this Goler is captain of the barracks?”

Warin nodded in confirmation.

“Does he know what’s going on here?”

“He has his suspicions that something is going on, he just doesn’t know what. Baron Grey is careful to keep up a pretense of loyalty to the emperor. However, Trask and Goler are not on friendly terms. They’re both keen on Lady Anne, the daughter of Sir John Wyland. Goler also suspects Trask’s disloyalty to Daican. We fear it’s only a matter of time before it
’s confirmed. Goler tends to keep a close watch on both Landale and Lady Anne. That’s why we must be cautious and keep away from here whenever Goler’s men are around.”

Outside, the horses and Tyra waited quietly for them. They’d drawn interest from some of the servants, but no one ventured too close. Mounting, they rode out of the courtyard and set out to the east. After a few miles, the farmland of Landale gave way to forest once more. When they entered the cool shadow of the trees, Warin glanced over his shoulder to say, “This is it. Home.”

Jace set his eyes on the surroundings. Having the word
home
assigned to this unfamiliar stretch of woods sent pain burning through his chest. Only one place had ever been home to him, and nowhere else could claim that distinction.