Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Aldric
Civilians crowded the winding streets of Goldreach, all craning their heads for a look at the spectacle unfolding—a long line of green recruits not yet fit for true combat, snaking its way toward the southern gate. The latest in his kirei’s political productions.
Perhaps she had missed her true calling as a playwright.
Sir Easome rode at the front of the line with two of his captains and a standard bearer hoisting the golden stag of Elmoria, of House de la Croix, high for all to see. Then came him and his men. Then all the farmers posing as soldiers.
Old men. Boys barely old enough to enlist.
All fresh meat for the Arathian war machine.
Dark clouds roiled across the sky overhead, blotting out the afternoon sun. A storm was brewing. He smelled it on the wind. Perhaps the poor conditions might help anyone at all believe this sad sack of men were hardened warriors from the far north when the time came.
Beneath his brigandine, Soot stirred, as if rooting around for treats. He huffed out a sigh through his nose. Leif was spoiling the wee beast.
When the southern gate leading out of the capital city finally loomed in the near distance, his Son, Eisway, nudged his horse in closer. Casually, the other man observed, “Shame it’s so cold out, Father, or we could pick some flowers for the queen while we’re outside the city.”
Several Sons guffawed. Leif even hooted with his own amusement.
But Aldric just ignored them all.
Flowers. His wife wanted flowers. From him. He refused to feel embarrassed about that.
Instead, he whistled twice—high and sharp. Close ranks. The Sons not part of his inner circle exchanged sour looks but fell back without complaint all the same. Rakon, Leif, Calix, and Kyn closed in, surrounding him on all sides with those he trusted most.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had paid Kyn a lick of attention, but he still trusted the man.
Things had just been…complicated between them ever since that day in the King’s Forest when he had accused his pretty Son of flirting with the queen.
Though in truth, the complications had started before that.
They had started the moment they first arrived in Elmoria and he saw the way Kyn liked to look at his kirei.
“Are we really going through with this, boss?” Rakon rumbled from where he rode at his right side, protecting his blind spot.
Aldric grunted. “So long as Coreto plays by the queen’s rules.”
Leif dug a bit of wax out of his ear and drawled, “Seems like a lot of extra steps when just killing the man would be easier.”
Aldric thinned his lips, holding his tongue. His eldest Son was right. He knew it. They all knew it. But it didn’t matter. This was Elmoria. Crown on his brow or not, here he was a mere consort.
This was Sera’s arena. Her rules.
But even so, she was still his wife.
He would protect her, no matter what she thought about it.
Frowning, Kyn softly asked, “And what happens if he doesn’t play by the rules, Father? There’s not much we’ll be able to do that far out.”
Aldric’s gaze slid toward Calix, where his second-in-command rode at his left side. The half-Kunishi nodded, clearly still in agreement with the plan they had agreed upon earlier.
Aldric rolled his shoulders in a shrug, stretching out his neck. “Doesn’t really matter,” he muttered under his breath to the rest of his circle, keeping an eye on Sir Easome’s back, where the knight rode just up ahead. Just out of earshot.
Even so, he lowered his voice until it was a mere soft growl. “Even at that distance, Calix will still be able to get an arrow through the duke’s skull.”