Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The King’s Chambers
The Looming Threat
King Dravic stood beside the table, his hands braced on its edge, his shoulders taut. The single candle burning beside him threw a sharp glow across the strong planes of his face.
Dar, Tavish, and Muir stood before him, silent and watchful.
When the king finally spoke, his voice cut through the stillness like a blade drawn from its sheath. “Warlord Tharne of Drogath continues to prepare for war.”
Muir’s brows shot up. Tavish remained stone-still. Dar’s jaw tightened, though he kept his expression firmly controlled.
“Are you certain it’s Scotara he plans to wage war against?” Dar asked carefully.
The king straightened. “Certain enough. Their fleets multiply. Their shores bristle with warriors and communication from advisors I sent to speak with Tharne has become sparse.”
Tavish stepped forward slightly. “Your spies—”
“Every one of them has returned empty-handed,” the king said. “Or not at all.”
A chill slipped down Dar’s spine at what war with Drogath would mean. The Drogath were fierce, brutal, and skillful warriors. Endless lives would be lost or maimed. It was no wonder the king was searching for a healer that could keep death at bay.
The king’s gaze slid to Dar, direct and piercing.
“I have learned that Drogath has sent a spy into Scotara, one who blends so well he would never be expected of devious intentions. One who moves unseen, gathering information. I spoke with your father about him, ordered him to find him, but I have heard nothing yet from him.”
“Nothing is known about him?” Muir asked.
“Only that he is exceptional at what he does, blends well and adapts easily to his surroundings,” the king said with an annoyed growl. “He sends no messages by raven, no sign, no trail. Yet someone is feeding Drogath knowledge, knowledge meant to weaken us or warn them how strong we stand.”
“We must find out,” Muir said, eager to see it done. “He could be watching your army to see if it grows or to see if you will secure aid from the tribes in the far north.”
“Or does he search for the healer as well?” the king snapped.
“If the reason can be found, negotiations established, perhaps a war could be averted,” Dar said.
“Not likely,” the king said. “Rulers who openly prepare for war have already made their decision. War with the Drogath, I fear, is inevitable.”
For a moment, silence settled, thick and weighted.
The king turned fully toward Dar. “I will send word to your father that Hunters are no longer to hunt the healer I covet. They will search for the spy. You will do the same as you travel with your wife. Find him,” the king commanded, each word ringing with demand. “And bring him to me alive.”
“Aye, my king,” Dar said, bowing his head.
“I want answers,” the king continued. “Why does Drogath prepare for war with Scotara? Why does he watch us, and why now?”
“If the spy is clever, he will not be easily found,” Tavish said.
A thin, dangerous smile touched the king’s mouth. “Then perhaps it is time he learned the Hunters are after him and they never fail me. Go and do my bidding.”
“As you command,” Dar said.
He and Muir bowed and turned toward the door.
Elara stared at the heavy, closed doors. Feena stood rigid beside her, one trembling hand pressed to her chest, her eyes shining with the terror she dared not voice.
“What do you think they discuss?” Elara asked.
“War. Whispers of it started a few months ago and have grown stronger along with the king’s search for an extraordinary healer.
He foolishly believes she can make a difference, save his warriors from death, make his army invincible.
” Feena shook her head. “No healer can save an army from death, only a wise king can do that.”
Elara lowered her voice. “You don’t believe the king is wise?”
Feena turned her question on her. “Do you?”
Elara stared at the door. “I don’t know, though I pray he is.”
Heavy footsteps sounded near the chamber door.
Elara and Feena stepped back as the doors swung open.
Dar stepped out, Muir following and closing the door behind him.
Dar turned to Muir. “See that everything is made ready for departure. We leave by mid-morning.”
Muir nodded and hurried off.
Feena stepped aside when she saw Dar turn his attention to Elara. His jaw was locked tight, the muscle there ticking, and his gray eyes appeared stormy.
Dar planted himself directly in front of his wife.
“What were you thinking?” He raised a quick finger to silence her before she could speak.
“You don’t need to tell me. I already know—” His voice turned sharp.
“You weren’t thinking when you spoke up.
One day your foolish boldness will earn you a blade at your throat. ”
Elara lifted her chin, refusing to wilt. “You would have had me stand silent while a frightened lass was used at the whim of the king? And what of the healers taken captive? Should I have ignored them, left them to linger here in Caerith? And what of us? What good would we do stuck here?”
His jaw tightened further, annoyed she made sense.
She let a slight smile break through. “Though, you are right, I acted before I fully thought it through.”
He shook his head and lowered it, his warm breath brushing her face. “And now your life hangs on the mercy of a king who possesses none. Do you understand the danger you have placed yourself in?”
She boldly leaned closer. “Then it appears that I have—we have—no choice but to find the exceptional healer.”
The storm in his eyes softened and he could not resist… he brushed his lips over hers. “You will obey my every word, wife, and not do anything foolish.”
She hesitated, a rush of warmth running through her from his faint kiss, followed by a sudden chill when a question hurried to her lips. “How can I give you my word when I don’t know if I can trust you?”
“I gave you my word that I would protect you, keep you safe, and I kept it, and I will continue to do so.”
“And will you continue to lie to me?” she challenged.
He demanded the same of her. “Will you do as well?”
“Trust each other or this task will never get done,” Feena said as if chastising two young bairns.
“You must be careful, Elara. Visions are not easily bent to one’s will.
They come as they choose and having your husband beside you will be of great help but only if you speak the truth with him.
And you, Dar, be a husband to her before a Hunter, leaving her no reason to doubt you. ”
Dar took hold of Elara’s hand. “You know I have kept my word about protecting you and keeping you safe. Know now you have my word that I will always speak the truth to you and keep nothing from you.”
Elara’s heart jolted, catching her breath in her throat.
“If you are wise, my son,” Feena said softly, “you will keep hold of that promise, for it will be tested.” She looked to Elara. “Your turn.”
A breath escaped Elara, and it took a moment for her to speak, giving her time to realize what her promise would mean. She would have to confide in her husband about the ethereal figure who healed Muir.
Did she trust him enough to do so?
Did she have a choice?
She spoke quickly, knowing it must be done. “I give you my word, husband, that I will always speak the truth to you and keep nothing from you.”
“Then we will surely succeed,” Dar said with confidence that Elara thought she felt rush over her.
“Aye, together you will,” Feena said as if she knew it to be so. “Now go and see to what needs doing for departure.”
“What of you?” Elara asked.
“Wherever Adira is, that is where you will find me. I will not leave her no matter what the king commands. Now go and I will pray for a safe and successful quest.”
Elara felt an odd connection to the old woman she barely knew, and she hurried to give her a hug. It came swiftly and briefly, an image of Feena holding Adira crying in her arms, soothing her, patting her chest, letting her know all would be well.
When she stepped back, Feena was smiling softly and Elara sensed that the old woman knew she had a vision.
She turned to Dar. “A brief vision that Feena will remain with Adira, though it will not be easy for the young woman.”
“Nothing is easy when it comes to the king,” Dar said.
Footsteps sounded on the stone stairs and Muir appeared, sending Dar an anxious look. “You are needed.”
“Come,” Dar said with a tug to Elara’s hand. “The morning meal awaits, and you need to eat before we take our leave.”
“I will wait with Feena for Adira and eat with them,” Elara said, trying to tug loose her hand, but Dar having too firm of a hold on it. She turned a tender look on him. “You have my word that I will wait in the Great Hall for you since you need to eat as well.”
Dar didn’t hesitate to free her hand. “I will see you there.”
Elara stared at him as he disappeared down the stairs. He hadn’t hesitated for a moment. He took her at her word. He trusted her without question.
Feena gently squeezed her arm and kept her voice low. “Listen well, lass. You must prepare yourself. Fear blinds the vision; courage frees it. Let it speak to you and the land as well for both will provide guidance. And trust your husband as he does you, for if you fail… he will die alongside you.”
The weight of her warning fell heavy on Elara’s shoulders and silence fell between them as the door to the king’s chamber swung open with a hard scrape of iron hinges.
Tavish motioned sharply to them. “Inside.”
His voice carried the same edge of urgency that always accompanied the king’s summons and Elara entered with Feena close beside her.
King Dravic stood by a long, narrow table, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid. His cold blue eyes snapped first to Elara, narrowing at once.
“Why are you not with your husband preparing for your departure?” he demanded, his voice slicing across the room like a whip.