Chapter Five
Varex
Almost two weeks earlier
Beyond a doubt, the nine-day journey to Filon was the most harrowing one Var had ever experienced.
With the knowledge that his most trusted advisor had been acting against him, had been setting up Var’s own brother, everything that Var had thought he knew was called into question.
Who could he possibly trust if he couldn’t trust Yomil?
And if he couldn’t trust anyone, then who could he safely travel with when his wife and baby were at risk?
Maybe he should have brought Pamuna and Lady Nawila with him.
After all, if they’d been acting against him, then his precious baby girl would be dead right now.
But since he couldn’t figure out who to trust, he’d needed someone to give them enough time to get away—after all, only a fool wouldn’t bring the nurse when he had a new baby and was fleeing for his family’s life.
Var was definitely a fool.
But he prayed to the goddess that the fact that Pamuna had stayed, with Nawila backing her up, would be enough to throw people off long enough for him, Ferna, and Cala to escape.
He didn’t tell Captain Darmila what they were doing.
He didn’t think she was in on the plot, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent certain—plus he wasn’t sure she’d let him do this, either.
The only thing he knew was that he had to get Ferna and Cala to safety.
He’d failed utterly with Tor, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Nawila arranged the carriage for him, procuring one outside the castle, and she sent Knight Harili and guard Sustuna with them with a no-nonsense look in her dark brown eyes.
“What are you going to do, Your Majesty?” she’d demanded. “Drive the carriage yourself? Don’t be a fool.”
Var was a fool, but he allowed himself to trust in her trust, even if he wasn’t convinced he could rely on his own judgment anymore. She’d handpicked from his brother’s troop.
“They’ll take care of you. Torex—” Her lips tightened and she blinked rapidly. “He would never let anything happen to you. Let us take care of you, all right?”
It was like a punch to the gut, one Var deserved, and he prayed that she was right.
Because Tor was dead. Var hadn’t seen what was going on around him, and now his brother was dead, his family was under threat, and the only thing Var could concentrate on right now was fleeing.
Once they made it to Filon and the safety of his father-in-law’s castle, they’d be able to regroup.
In the nightmarish journey north, Var’s brain seemed only to spiral in terrible worries: how everything could go even more disastrously wrong, how close he’d come to losing his baby girl, how he didn’t know how to cope with the loss of his brother, how every person close to him was now under suspicion, and he needed to frantically analyze every interaction to figure out if someone was trustworthy or not.
That was why he’d been so insistent upon fleeing. They would have to figure that out. Darmila would no doubt be rooting out all the conspirators while he was gone, but it put everything up in the air, and Var couldn’t risk any harm coming to his family again.
He’d thought of Lotar and King Stronex first, but Ferna had been right when she’d suggested that her father could be safer because Filon was farther away from Alossa.
It wasn’t where people would likely guess they’d flee first, and hopefully, by the time anyone figured it out, they’d be safely arrived.
He found his gaze darting to Ferna and Cala constantly, as though he were worried that they were suddenly going to be snatched away before his very eyes. But at this point, that didn’t seem like an unreasonable possibility.
His wife looked pinched with worry, although Var had assured her multiple times that he would shield all of them in case of danger. She was carrying Cala, and she’d already told him that she wasn’t ever going to let the baby go. That was exactly how Var felt.
He’d thought putting out the fire was the most important thing he could do, a way to safeguard his family and his people—and he’d missed the even more insidious danger in their midst. He couldn’t blame Ferna for her anxiety.
Harili and Sustuna kept them moving fast, driving for long hours, and changing horses without Var or Ferna ever having to reveal themselves.
They slept in the carriage, which was not at all comfortable, but it allowed Var to set up a shield no one else would see.
He wasn’t sure when Harili and Sustuna were sleeping, but they kept watch and insisted that the important thing was that they kept moving.
He didn’t actually need them to tell him that fleeing across the United Realms with his family and two guards was probably the height of foolishness. He just desperately hoped that it was out of character enough that no one else figured out what he was doing.
Nothing seemed quite real to Var. He couldn’t seem to adjust to this reality where his closest advisor was conspiring against him and his brother…
his brother was dead. Var’s twin was dead, and Var was responsible for what had happened.
His brain kept coming back to poke at this fact, a sore place in his mind, and nothing made it better, nothing made it go away.
Tor had been trying to explain to him, and Var hadn’t listened. His brother had been desperate, and Var had let the rumors take precedence. He’d been annoyed, and now his brother was dead, and he wouldn’t ever be able to undo that.
They were so lucky to have Harili and Sustuna. They bought supplies for all of them, including the baby, because he and Ferna had left practically with only the clothes on their backs to avoid anyone realizing what they were doing.
The second and third days, Cala cried most of the time, having evidently decided that she did not accept the necessity of being cooped up in a carriage, bumping along the road. Honestly, he and Ferna weren’t doing much better, but his wife finally let him hold Cala for a little while.
Looking down into his daughter’s small face, scrunched up and pink from yelling… honestly, he sympathized. If he had the option, he wouldn’t mind throwing back his head and screaming.
As they packed up on their fourth morning, Var told Ferna, “I’m sorry this is so awful.”
None of them were sleeping terribly well, although Cala seemed to exhaust herself enough to mostly get through the night, which was something. Var felt like he was sleeping with one eye open, keeping his shield at the ready.
Ferna’s eyes were heavy, but she summoned a smile for him anyway. “It’s not your fault.”
Only it was, really. Var had placed his trust in the wrong people, and they were all paying for that mistake.
Following the Great Road, it took almost six days to get out of Alossa, but this was the only sensible path when traveling by carriage.
The last thing they wanted to do was attract attention by behaving in an unusual manner.
Once out of Alossa, they traveled through Vayrin, then southern Lotar, and finally crossed into Filon.
It was a relief to reach King Nostex’s land, and Fila was thankfully located not far from the Great Road and the river.
Var wouldn’t feel safe again until they were somewhere absolutely secure. He’d failed his brother, but he wasn’t going to fail Ferna or the baby. They would be safe if it was the last thing that Var did.
On their ninth day of travel, they arrived late in the day, clattering into the stable yard of the castle outside of Fila.
Nostex looked stunned to see them when a guard summoned him, his pale green eyes, so like his daughter’s, wide with shock.
But he shook off his surprise and greeted Var with a hearty shake of the hand.
“My, my, this is a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you.” He looked around and frowned. “But where is everyone else? Surely, it’s not just you and two guards with the carriage?”
Ferna cast herself into her father’s arms with a sob, and Nostex patted her back.
“There, there. Now, what’s all this?”
“Oh, Father, it’s awful.”
Var could just pick up the muffled words that were directed at Nostex’s chest. Ferna’s father was a stocky, solid man who got a little bit rounder every time Var saw him. His heart pinched. He rather wished there was someone he could throw himself at just now.
His and Tor’s father had died months before the end of the war.
Var missed him to this day, but they’d still had their mother, and in the midst of that terrible war, so many people had been killed.
It had seemed like every day, they were hearing about someone else who’d died.
Losing their mother seven years ago had been such a shock.
Var had assumed he’d have years before he’d need to take the throne.
He’d thought there’d be time, so much more time, for so many things.
His mother would surely be horrified by the mess Var had made of everything.
Nostex was beginning to look alarmed now. “What’s going on? No, no, come inside. Let’s get you settled, and then we’ll sort out how to fix whatever this is. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
Var wished Nostex’s optimism had merit. Unfortunately, too many mistakes had been made that could never be undone.
He wasn’t ever going to get his brother back.
But he would do everything in his power to ensure that no harm came to the rest of his family.
Being safely ensconced in Nostex’s castle made Var breathe a little easier. As always, it was well protected, with a highly visible complement of guards, and Var didn’t have to worry that any of these guards were under Yomil’s influence.
Surely, with a day or two of proper sleep in a safe environment, Var would be able to think properly again. He could actually figure out what to do next, get to the bottom of who was after them, and keep his family safe.
As much of his family as was still alive, anyway.