Beside Anrille, Parice’s grin broadened.
“Third,” the woman choked out.
Kalen’s eyes narrowed. “What was that, Anrille?”
Anrille flinched. “I pick the third choice, Captain, sir.”
“That’s better. Parice, I will need you to heal her arm sometime tonight. I have an errand for her to run before you attend to her,” the Rift King announced.
“Of course, sir.”
“Anrille, you are to go through the camp and locate five men who are interested in improving their archery techniques. Once you have located these volunteers, you are to report back to me. You will also be responsible for teaching others archery. These individuals will be of my choosing. You’re dismissed.”
Anrille cast a desperate look at Captain Silvereye. When she was ignored, she turned to the healer, who likewise refused to acknowledge her. Breton stepped to the side to make room for the woman to pass. With her face pale and her eyes wide, the mercenary fled from the tent.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Parice coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. The sound Parice made was a mix of a groan and snort.
“Just what are you scheming, Blackhand?” Captain Silvereye asked.
The Rift King giggled.
Shivers ran up and down Breton’s spine. “Will you stop that?” he begged.
His foal turned to him, grinning. “Breton, go find the Delrose family and our other guest and inform them that they will be attending archery lessons starting this evening.”
Not trusting his voice and wondering just what his foal was planning, Breton nodded. When no one spoke, he drew a calming breath and asked, “Is there anything else you need?”
“A sling, good stones, and a light bow,” his foal demanded. “I’m out of practice.”
“A sling
and
a bow, Blackhand?” Silvereye asked.
“It is possible to use a bow with one hand, you know. It’s harder, but it’s possible. Right, Breton?”
With a sigh, Breton nodded his agreement. “It is possible. When was the last time you tried it, foal?”
“It’s been a while,” the Rift King admitted. “I view it as a subtle peace offering to Her Royally Offended Majesty.”
“And the sling?” Captain Silvereye asked.
“It may not be an elegant weapon, but I assure you they can be quite lethal. I’m quite good with a sling. Actually, see if you can find enough slings and stones for everyone, while you’re at it.” Whistling a merry tune, the Rift King left the tent.
“Archery lessons? Slings?” Turning to stare after the Rift King, Captain Silvereye shook his head. “Breton, what is he thinking?”
Smothering a laugh, Breton replied, “Don’t try to guess his plans, Captain. I’ve been trying for years without success.”
“It seems pretty obvious to me,” Parice said, crossing the tent to join them.
“Well, Parice? Enlighten us,” Silvereye ordered.
“He’s a predator, and she’s his prey. He’s finding out her strengths and her weaknesses,” the healer said.
Breton shivered.
“Any idea why?” Silvereye asked.
“I don’t know, but there’s no mistaking it. He was hunting her, and he knew he was the victor. I’m a healer, remember. I can tell.”
“Is he a predator, Breton?” There was concern in Silvereye’s voice.
“Only when he needs to be,” he replied.
The Mithrians both looked concerned. Breton smiled and said, “I wouldn’t worry. The Rift King may hate his sire, but he loves his dam. If he’s planning to kill Anrille, he won’t use his dam to accomplish it. His instructions were clear. He wanted the entire family. The youngest is only eight, and while the Rift King is many things, he’s a father who loves children. He might be a predator at times, but Anrille’s safe enough.”
“He’s going to drive me insane,” Silvereye predicted, his expression troubled.
“I warned you,” Breton replied in as smug of a tone as he could manage.
“Oh, shut up,” the Shadow Captain muttered before turning and leaving the tent.
“I like him,” Parice announced, returning to his work, humming.
Chuckling, Breton went to do his foal’s bidding, and for the first time since leaving the Rift, he was content.
~~*~~
The Delrose herd had a cluster of tents located in the heart of the camp, and Breton found them all gathered in one, talking quietly among themselves. Princess Tala was among them, and she flinched when he held open the tent flap. Refusing to look at him, she bowed her head and stared at her feet.
“Captain Blackhand has decided that all of you will begin archery lessons this evening,” he announced.
Lord Delrose rose from his stool, dusting off his trousers. “All of us?”
“All of you,” he confirmed.
“Why?” Annoyance laced Princess Tala’s voice.
Breton clenched his teeth, wondering what lengths he—or his foal—would have to take to deal with Kelsh’s Heir. “I do not question the Captain’s orders, and I strongly recommend that you don’t either. This is a war camp, Your Royal Highness. You will learn to defend yourself. Have you already forgotten your lesson earlier today?”
The woman flinched but said nothing.
Turning to Lord Delrose, he asked, “Will this be a problem?”
“It won’t be a problem. Should we have our horses prepared?”
“If you need them, I will send word when someone comes to fetch you.”
“Will Ka—ah, Captain Blackhand be teaching us?” The youngest of the Delrose herd asked, his eyes bright with excitement.
“Kalen will be present, Welis,” Breton confirmed, offering the young Kelshite a smile.
“Him? Use a bow?” Princess Tala asked, her scorn clear in her voice.
“Your Highness, please allow me to offer you a very important piece of advice,” Lord Delrose snapped, much to Breton’s surprise. “You are making an error in your judgment due to your damaged pride. If you do not believe me, speak to the Yadesh—and I do not mean your Relas. You really need to start acting as one of your station should. There is no luxury for your childish, immature behavior right now. As things stand, we have sufficient reason to believe your father sent you to be sacrificed by Danarite Blood Priests. You’d do well to remember that!”
As Lord Delrose and Kelsh’s Heir glowered at each other, Breton had no doubts who had sired his foal. Lord Delrose’s eyes hardened, paling to an icy blue. The man’s tone was colder than the snow. “Have you forgotten you belong to the Rift, Your Highness?”
Red splotches formed on the woman’s cheeks, but she said nothing.
“Tala,” Lady Delrose murmured, her tone too kind for Breton’s comfort. “You have known since you were five that your marriage would be arranged by your father. You are the only eligible heir. Have you not once questioned a thing you have been told?”
Breton considered backing out of the tent to leave, but Lord Delrose caught his eye and shook his head. He remained, wondering what Kalen’s sire and dam had planned—and why they wanted him to witness it.
At first, Princess Tala lifted her chin, and then tears filled her eyes. “But why would Relas…?”
She found no sympathy in the Delrose family, not even among the foals.
“Have you asked her?” Lady Delrose asked, the sweetness of her tone hardening.
Princess Tala shook her head.
“Well, why not?”
“I’m afraid,” was the whispered reply. “What if she betrays me as Garint betrayed Satrin?”
“Then you’ll do exactly as Satrin has done,” Lady Delrose retorted, clasping her hands on her lap and focusing her attention on the younger woman. “You will live, and you will prove you are worthy of the Rift King’s attention. Not for yourself, but for Kelsh—for the kingdom needing you to have the wisdom to stand aside, as you are currently unfit to rule! And may His Royal Majesty forgive me for sending Kelsh’s problem to the Rift to be dealt with.”
Breton’s eyes widened as he became aware of his error. The Rift King, his deviously clever little foal, hadn’t included the Delrose family to put him or Captain Silvereye at ease. His foal had chosen a weapon: his dam.
“The Rift can’t help us. The Covenant—”
“—was broken when the Kelshite King sent a Knight and a Danarite to capture the Rift King,” Breton interrupted, hoping he was playing Lady Delrose’s game rather than ruining whatever the woman was scheming. “There were two incursions within the Rift, Your Highness. We have evidence, verifiable by truthseers, that Kelsh was partner to attempted Regicide. I trust you’re aware of what this means for your kingdom.”
Every eye focused on him, but it was Lord Delrose who asked, “Two incursions?”
“One was on the trails, where a Blood Priest summoned a skreed in his effort to reach Blind Mare Run. He was foiled. The second was in Blind Mare Run, where a group of would-be kidnappers mistook me to be the Rift King,” Breton replied. The memory of the Outsiders who had tried to capture him left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Those were put to the Trial of the Horse, and they were found guilty by the herd.”
“How many men?”
“Three made it to Blind Mare Run. We dealt with the Blood Priest and a hundred more on the trails. They fell to their deaths or were killed by the skreed they had summoned.”
Lord Delrose whistled. “Does he know?”
“No. I don’t believe it’s necessary to inform him. He would be quite displeased, and as no harm came to anyone other than the Outsiders, I feel it wise he remain ignorant for the moment.”
With a faint smile, Lord Delrose nodded. “Especially if one of his prized foals was involved—or his father.”
“It is as you say,” Breton agreed, both concerned and pleased at the truce between him and his foal’s sire.
Narrowing her eyes, Lady Delrose watched them with interest. “It seems you two are getting along much better now.”
“We have reason,” Lord Delrose replied.
“So we do,” Breton agreed.
“Why would my father try to kidnap the Rift King using Danarite allies?”
Breton glanced around the tent, uncertain of how much to say. It was then he noticed Verishi wasn’t among them. “Where is Verishi?”
Lady Delrose smiled. “She’s asleep. She was worn out after helping Healer Parice. Young Delaven is with her keeping watch. It would not do to let one of his little ones be unguarded.”
“She would be the best one to ask, but the Rift King is not without power, and it’s power best left outside of anyone’s hands.”
“Even the Rift’s?” Lady Delrose’s question was partnered with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Even the Rift’s.”
Muttering something in brisk Kelshite, too soft for Breton to understand, Princess Tala stood. “The Rift King doesn’t want me.”
Resisting the urge to groan at the young woman’s whining tone, Breton replied, “The Rift King needs a mare who is his equal. She must be someone who stands beside him, not as an ornament in his shadow. You are not that woman. You are unfit to be a queen of Kelsh, let alone Queen of the Rift, who must be strong of will and capable of the Rift’s diplomacy. Even if he were to like you, I would oppose such a pairing at this moment. What makes you think you are capable of the Rift’s diplomacy?”
“I don’t know,” Tala replied sullenly.
Uncertain of whether he was helping or hurting his cause, Breton snapped, “Good. What are you going to do about it?”
Princess Tala’s eyes widened. “I can do something about it?”
When Lady Delrose laughed, Breton was reminded of his foal. “When you have the will and the courage, a way can be made, child.”
With narrowed eyes and a twitching cheek, Tala hissed, “I’m thirty, you know.”
Lord and Lady Delrose exchanged long looks before they both laughed.
“So you are,” his foal’s dam conceded.
“What can I do?”
“Perhaps this is a question best answered by Guardian Breton, who is the Rift King’s confidant,” Lord Delrose replied.
Once again, everyone focused on him. The Delrose foals were grinning with undisguised merriment at Princess Tala’s predicament.
Revealing that his foal was the Rift King wouldn’t help matters, but it might impress upon the young, wayward woman of the importance of her errors. Drawing a deep breath, he replied, “I’d begin by apologizing to Captain Kalen Blackhand, the Rift King.”
Princess Tala’s mouth fell open and a strangled noise emerged from her throat. “He… he’s the
Rift King
?”
“Are you mad, Breton? You’re not helping matters any,” Lord Delrose hissed while wincing.
The dry chuckle behind Breton frozen him in place, the cold dread of recognition sweeping through him.
“Yes, Princess Tala of Kelsh, the Rift King is a tiny cripple of a man,” his foal said, ducking into the tent. “Delrose, I have a question for you.”
Lord Delrose’s eyes widened. “What is it, Captain?”
“Are you aware that you’re dead?”
Lord Delrose’s eyes widened. “I’m dead? I wasn’t aware of this, no. What are you talking about?”