Chapter 4
Roark
Dark Watchers eyed us as Yanson guided me toward the largest tent near the back of the camp. I shook out my palms. Best to plan what I’d say to Nivek. I’d prove it to him that I belonged here.
Yanson tore back the tent flap and used his palm to nudge me inside. In the center of the tent was a table draped in canvas maps and routes through the trees and village. Half a dozen Dark Watchers surrounded the table, but in the center was Nivek.
My brother glanced over his shoulder at the sound of our steps, already a frown carved in his face. Like he knew who to expect when I stepped through the entrance.
Nivek looked like a proper Draven warrior. Hair tied off his face and knotted behind his head. Runes drawn in kohl and charcoal lined his brow, the bridge of his nose, and beneath his eyes.
“Found a lost soul in the wood, My Prince.” Yanson clapped his palms on my shoulders.
Nivek’s mouth tightened. With the wave of his hand, he spoke to the Dark Watch. “Leave us for a moment.”
I might’ve mistaken it, but I thought more than one Dark Watcher had to clear his throat like he might be trying to muffle a laugh as they strode past.
“Good luck,” Yanson whispered before he, too, turned and abandoned the tent.
Silence thickened between us, heavy, like the air kept adding layers around us the longer Nivek glared at me.
At long last, I opened my arms. “I’m sorry, all right. I just wanted to come and hunt the melder sod because I know you’re angry at what their craft did to our folk, but so am I. It’s not fair I can’t fight for our house as much as you. I even bested Gunter today.”
I prayed to the gods Nivek would not see through that lie.
My brother merely folded his arms over his chest. “Finished?”
I swallowed, but nodded.
Nivek leaned against the edge of the table and crossed his ankles. “You are a fool for coming tonight, little brother. There is a reason we do not bring young ones into battle. You are a distraction to our Watchers. Now, I must pull back some of our warriors to play nursemaid for you.”
“No,” I insisted. “I swear it, Nivek, I won’t—”
He held up a palm, cutting me off. “Your arrogance has likely left our mother in a state of fear. Did you think of her? Did you ever consider she might come after you? Mother is a warrior, you think the threat of Jorvans would stop her from saving her foolish, youngest son?”
Gods, I hadn’t…I hadn’t thought of the queen chasing after me. She’d be a damn target from the Jorvan Stav Guard. My stomach backflipped.
“Did you consider,” Nivek went on, voice low. “This raid has been intricately planned for months, and now it must change as enemies draw nearer all because of your selfish pride? This is not a game, Roark. Souls will greet Salur tonight.”
I hung my chin, horridly ashamed. “I’m sorry, Nivek.”
What more could I say?
Another breath, another heartbeat and Nivek abandoned the table.
He lowered to a crouch in front of me. “I understand wanting to fight, brother. I do. I understand you think you are here to honor our folk. But remember what I told you, this battle is not caused by melders. It is caused because of greed for what they can do. Is it right for us to destroy them all because the gods gave them strange craft?”
One brow arched. “You sound like you wouldn’t kill the melder if you saw her?”
“I have grand plans to do what must be done to protect our kingdom.” Nivek rose again, shoving my head to the side, a sign his anger at the sight of me was fading. “Well, it’s far too dangerous for you to go traipsing back to the palace tonight.”
“Don’t make anyone sit with me,” I said in a small whine. “Please. I’ll do whatever you say, but I’m not some helpless babe who needs a personal Watcher.”
“Want to be of use?”
I nodded vigorously.
“All right. There’s a grove in the wood, far enough from any real threat, where we’ve been gathering kindling. Gather. It.”
“You want me to…gather kindling?”
“Oh, forgive me. Is that beneath you? Can’t manage it with your princely hands?”
My eyes narrowed. “Didn’t say that, did I? I just thought I might, I don’t know, sharpen blades or something.”
“We’re all sharpened, but we need flames for oil arrows and to keep warm. Kindling. Now.”
I bit back a murmured curse and made my way toward the back part of the tent. Before I could abandon the space, Nivek said, “Oh, and Roark. Keep your damn head down and stay back from any fighting you might hear. You’re not here to play a hero, little brother.”
I hid the way I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the tent.
“Stay down.” I kicked at a pebble before adding another dry twig to the stack in my arms. “I’ll stay down. Till I see a damn Jorvan then I’ll…” Another kick, another grunt.
I understood Nivek’s worries, but I could fight more than gather wood. I could be of use. I could be the one to end the melder’s craft once and for all. The corner of my mouth quirked at the thought.
Perhaps I did have a bit of arrogance because the notion of cheers and praises from my folk when we returned was an appealing thought.
A chuckle slipped free. Mother wouldn’t even have time to be angry, she’d be so proud. Nivek would have no choice but to let me join the Dark Watch early. By the two hells, maybe even a fara wolf would bond with me earlier than anyone else in my study season.
I bent down to pluck two more twigs from the ground, reveling in my dreaming, but on my next step, the ground fell out from beneath me, and I was thrown headfirst into the dark.