Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
I f Taras had been surprised by my last-minute decision to take his place, he didn’t show it. Instead, he and Mila quietly headed back into the palace while the staff swapped out our luggage. Everything else would stay the same.
Kirill would remain in Bear to help with the running of things my father wasn’t sane enough to manage, while I took Yuriy and a few other trusted men with me into Lochlann.
I cursed the necessity of using a carriage that moved at a snail’s pace all the way to the mountain pass. There wasn’t the same urgency in a carriage as there was on horseback. I lacked the freedom to push my horse faster through the countryside—regardless of the pressing need I felt to hurry—settling instead for the monotonous trek, all for the sake of the trunks we had and the appearances I would be forced to maintain once we were on the other side of the mountains.
Sitting back on the bench, I clenched and unclenched my fists, picturing the many ways the princess was already allying herself to Korhonan.
A huff of air escaped my lips, a small, frozen cloud bursting out in the air in front of me. It wasn’t that I cared who she married, of course. It was the implication that the alliance would have on my clan.
I have plenty of chaos in my life already .
I lasted a full hour in the carriage before switching to my horse.
The ride was interminable enough without being cooped up in that space, allowing my mind to pull up ghastly image after image, and my soldiers patrolled our side of the mountains, ensuring that I was as safe as could be in this kingdom; not that I couldn’t take care of myself, or that my reputation didn’t precede me anywhere I went. Besides, if the Besklanovvy made an appearance somewhere on our journey, I would just as soon face them head on.
After several long days of riding, we finally emerged on the other side of the mountains. In spite of myself, I stopped short when I caught my first glimpse of Lochlann.
Parts of Socair were green in the summer, yes, and even through the winter with rows upon rows of pine trees, but it never looked quite like this .
Lochlann was an explosion of color, almost too loud, like everything I knew of its people.
It was endless rolling hills in every shade of green, topped with bright purple and punctuated with spiky pink flowers. The roadways were lined with yellow flowering trees, some with deep red clusters of berries and sprawling branches, all against the backdrop of a bright blue sky.
Socair’s white winter must have felt like a prison to her, compared to the veritable rainbow that was her home.
“This feels like a place she would come from,” Yuriy’s words were pitched low so that only I would hear as he rode up next to me. “Even the birds are…louder.”
If it had been Kirill saying it, the words would have been teasing, but Yuriy was thoughtful. It was the first time he had mentioned her since she left, though I’d caught him casting sad glances at her room several times a week, the outline of a card deck evident through the stark black pocket of his military coat.
I didn’t have the heart to explain to him that he was just another distraction when she was desperate in the land of her enemies.
That we all were.
Swallowing the thought, I realized that wasn’t fair to my cousin. Rowan had considered him a friend, the same way she had Taras. The same way she had Dmitriy…
It was only me she had used to fill her time until she could find her way back into Korhonan’s arms.
The garrison at the base of the mountains was an imposing tower of stone bricks lined with small, slitted windows where archers were positioned. Their arrows were nocked in their bows and aimed directly at us as we rode forward.
Yuriy approached slowly, handing over a letter with our seal to one of the Lochlannian soldiers at the gates. He then passed it back to a much stockier soldier with a hawk-like intensity in his dark eyes.
Authority bled from him as he scanned the letter, glancing up at us once or twice before nodding and motioning for us to ride forward.
His hair wasn’t the blood-red hue of Rowan’s, but streaks of auburn ran from his temple to his topknot.
“We have a contingent prepared to escort you,” he said in the deep accent of the Lochlannians.
For our safety or theirs?
I supposed it didn’t matter, not when we would have done the same if the roles were reversed, so I dipped my chin once in assent.
Though my men were visibly uncomfortable to be surrounded by the enemy, the Lochlannian soldiers were not outright hostile.
At least, the ones chosen to escort us weren’t.
But there was more than one hand twitching toward their weapons as we passed by the main patrol on the other side of the massive gates. Their eyes bored holes into us as we rode through, their expressions cold and cautious.
Had any of them fought in the war two decades ago? Had their families? Did they carry as much hatred for what and who we represented as the clans did for them?
My fingers itched for the swords at my back, but I kept my body still and my expression neutral, even if I was mentally calculating exactly how many men each of us would need to fight to escape, should the need arise.
Had Korhonan received the same warm welcome?
Had he considered his odds in a fight? Or had he been composed and calm, eagerly moving through their ranks as he made his way closer to my pet?
Of course, he had entered into this kingdom through a very different route—one even closer to the entry point our soldiers had used in the war. Had that made them more on guard? Or less, since they could have met him in the tunnels?
I bitterly shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter, not when he was already in Chridhe. What mattered now was getting there before any alliance was struck.
Once we were fully through the garrison, only twenty men remained in our escort—numbers I was far more comfortable with. It made our odds far more decent, should their hospitality fall short.
With that thought, I reluctantly made myself climb back into the suffocating carriage, playing the part of emissary over soldier for the sake of the Lochlannians around us. At least the carriage had windows on every side, making it impossible to sneak up on, and my men were more than capable of staying alert to signs of danger.
It was really the prospect of sitting alone, with only my tumultuous thoughts for company that I was dreading.
I spent hours recalling all the customs and culture of the Lochlannians I had studied over the years. The words unfolded in my mind as if I were reading them on the page once again. Words and sentences, paragraphs and entire books outlining the expectations at court. The preferred dances and musical instruments. The proper ways to address each member of the royal family and the history between the northern and southern halves of the kingdom.
Each thought was punctuated with a memory of bowed, pink lips and spring-green eyes. Of unrestrained curls and dark blood against creamy skin. Of a warm body pressed against mine and the taste of vodka and honey on her tongue…
A knock sounded on the carriage door, a much-needed distraction from my persistent thoughts. I sat forward, meeting Pavel’s gaze through the window. He made a gesture that meant we would be stopping soon.
“Their majesties thought it best if we made camp,” the soldier in charge said when the carriage rolled to a stop.
I read between his words easily.
Make camp rather than go to an inn where the villagers no doubt hate our people , he meant. Prejudices ran plenty deep on both sides of the mountain, it would seem. Not that I hadn’t known that, from Rowan’s pointed barbarian remarks at the Summit.
Though, that night, while watching the raucous group of soldiers lounging casually by the campfire, I couldn’t help but think the remark was hypocritical, at best.
My men and I sat farther away from the flames and the light and fire it cast upon us. Did they not care that anyone could easily spot them in the glow of the fire? Or was that not as much of a threat in Lochlann like it was between feuding clans and the Besklanovvy ?
Out in the open air, in nothing but the fabric of a tent to conceal our party, did they really not have to worry about the dangers we could encounter? Bawdy jokes and booming laughter echoed through the camp, and my men bristled at the noise.
“Are all Lochlannians this loud, do you think?” Henrick asked quietly.
“So it would seem,” I responded. “You and Pavel take the first watch, then wake Yuriy and Otto.”
The two men dipped their chins once while the rest of us moved into our tents to eke out whatever sleep we could get.
It was better to risk offending our hosts than losing my men when we were so exposed. Or starting a war, for that matter, which my death on Lochlannian soil would certainly accomplish.
My father didn’t strictly know that I was here—it was easier to stall him until I knew exactly what would be gained from this journey since he was unlikely to take well to the idea of negotiating with the people he hated. But he was sure to find out if I didn’t return.
Not that I was concerned about being taken by surprise. I was hardly likely to sleep in the midst of unfamiliar soldiers with only two of my men on watch.
Let alone surrounded by very noisy reminders of her .
I was right about the sleep, but I used the long days in the carriage to catch up on that rest, in between studying the handful of books I had brought with me. Though the weather here didn’t appear to be quite as volatile as Socair’s, we had several days of rain that had us crawling along at a frustratingly slow pace.
I used the time to consider how I would handle the delicate issue of my presence, rather than Taras's, something I admittedly had not taken the time to consider when I left in a gust of fury.
One emissary from Bear was largely like the next, though, I told myself, and I had far more bargaining power than Taras did. That should be enough to cover for my presence here.
Once I had contented myself with that, I began picking apart Korhonan’s storms-damned letter and imagining what his time in Lochlann had looked like so far. Had her family already agreed to the marriage? Had they dismissed him outright?
That wasn’t likely, considering it was his entire reason for visiting, and what little I knew of Rowan’s father suggested he would not have allowed Korhonan to make the journey without his permission.
That was aside from the fact that Korhonan wasn’t impulsive by nature. His duty was an inherent part of his makeup, and though the princess tended to bring out less than flattering aspects of us, Theodore wouldn’t risk his clan without making sure every single one of his actions reflected well on his brother, his clan, and his duty to both.
That realization calmed the voice in my head that raged against the grueling pace of our party.
As much as I wanted to always think ill of him, I couldn’t blame Korhonan for that. I wouldn’t abandon my people, either. As clan heirs, we had both learned that obligation before we had learned to speak.
It was the reason he had written to me, clearly spelling out his intentions and location. He wouldn’t risk jeopardizing the safety of his clan by impetuously marrying Rowan without my permission, and he wouldn’t stay here ignoring his duties at Elk.
Even if her reckless arse insisted.
It was several days before the castle finally came into view. For all that the landscape continued to be impressive, the castle itself was built more for defense than beauty. Strategically positioned at the top of a hill, it was a perfect square of towering gray boulders tucked behind an iron-and-stone gate.
Both still gleamed, not yet twenty years old.
That made sense, of course, considering my own father’s troops had destroyed the original Castle Chridhe. It was a story he loved to tell, the day he bested the H’Rian royal family. Rowan’s grandparents—the queen’s parents—had been strung along the walls of their own castle.
Had she witnessed that carnage herself?
Did her hatred run even deeper than her husband’s did?
Mounted crossbows peeked from the roof of the castle itself, and soldiers patrolled the walls, more than what I suspected was standard for peacetime. The wary looks exchanged by the soldiers as we neared the portcullis confirmed that theory.
Was this a response to Korhonan’s presence? To mine?
Or was there unrest brewing in the kingdom itself?