34. Zarek
Zarek
NOT OUT YET
“Gerard,” I whisper in as friendly a tone as I can manage while trying to sneak across a slate roof in the dark.
Elrick’s man-at-arms doesn’t reply. Nor does he make any move to sheathe the blade in his hand. I stay where I am for a moment longer, then take a step forward. I don’t see anyone else lurking in the deep shadows of the oak tree.
“Where is she?” I whisper.
“With Elrick,” Gerard replies. “In the stables. Getting our horses out.”
“Thank the gods,” I whisper, under my breath.
Gerard tilts his head as he stares at me. “She didn’t want to leave without you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask, glancing at the dagger in his hand. “To make sure I’m coming?”
“Something like that,” Gerard replies.
Wind gusts between us, carrying the heavy scent of the ocean. I wonder how much time we have before someone checks on the rooms and realizes we’re gone. I take another step closer to Gerard.
“Look,” I whisper, “as much as I’d love to resolve this problem you have with me, we don’t have time. Elrick and Lilias need to put as much distance between them and this palace as possible. Whatever issue you have with me, I’m sorry, but it’s got to wait.”
With that, I step past Gerard. He turns to follow me, his dagger catching on the light. My back tightens as I turn toward the oak tree, some part of me expecting the bite of cold steel between my shoulder blades.
Instead, I hear the soft rasp of metal against leather as Gerard slides his blade back into its sheath, then comes to stand next to me.
“Did you know?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
I turn to face him. “Know what?”
He tilts his head toward the mountains. “Vsenrog’s armies are coming over the mountains, you fucking asshole. Did you know Ethiria was next on their list?”
Anger flares inside my chest, hot and bitter.
“You think I deliberately led my wife into a trap?” I ask.
Gerard crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.
“Fuck you,” I spit.
My hands clench into fists, and my gods, I want to punch this man.
But we don’t have time, damn it. I clench my jaw and force myself to turn away from the asshole with the intensely punch-able face. For the second time tonight, my body tenses, expecting a blow between my shoulders.
Nothing. I exhale slowly, then drop to my knees and crawl under the oak tree. It’s awkward and painful to scramble down the ragged trunk, but it doesn’t take long. Gerard drops out of the tree a moment later, and we stare at each other in the thin light of the waning moon.
“Look,” he says, tilting his head toward the mountains.
I follow his gaze. My breath catches in my throat.
Holy hells. The guard was right. A line of torches snakes down the mountain, following the road. They’re too far away for me to make out any details, but it must be hundreds of people, marching in orderly lines.
Straight toward the palace of Ethiria.
“Gods above,” I whisper.
Something touches my arm. I jump back, my hand dropping to the dagger around my waist.
“Shit,” Gerard growls, pulling his hand away from my arm. “You’re a touchy bastard. Come on. They’re waiting.”
The palace courtyard is in chaos. People rush in and out of every door, and frantic, whispered conversations echo in every corner. No one pays any attention to Gerard and me as we make our way to the stables.
We slip through an open door and fumble our way past rows of darkened stalls. The horses inside nicker and stomp, as if they can sense the tumult in the courtyard. Low lamps flicker near the stalls for visiting horses, and I make out Lilias’s voice as we approach, whispering something low and soft.
She’s bent over the neck of a chestnut mare, scratching her behind the ears as she adjusts her bridle. I freeze in the middle of the stables. Something inside my chest snaps in two as I stare at my wife.
I should have stayed in the palace, I realize, far too late. I should have let her leave without me.
Weak, my mind hisses.
Lilias glances up as Gerard approaches, and the fear on her face melts away when her eyes meet mine. There’s a look in her eyes that I’ve done nothing to earn. When she steps toward me, I almost pull back.
“Zarek,” Elrick says, stepping out of the stable beside Lilias. His tone is so warm that it takes me a moment to realize he actually said my name.
I stare at the prince of Marion numbly as he takes my hand in his.
“Thank you,” Elrick tells me.
I blink, trying to understand what in the nine hells is going on.
“You got us out,” Elrick continues. “I wouldn’t have thought of going over the roof.”
I nod. Some distant part of my mind whispers that I should probably be smiling at the prince. Instead, I open my mouth.
“You’re not out yet,” I say. “Take the western gate. The one we took when we went to the cliffs this morning. Follow the road to the river, then loop around and go back through the town.”
“Someone will see us,” Gerard objects from behind me.
“Of course,” I say. “But I don’t think they’ll care. Not with the army in the—”
A door slides open. Voices bark into the darkness. The horses stomp and snort, and lamplight floods the stables, reflecting off flared nostrils and arched necks.
“What in the hells is going on in here?” a voice booms.
“Down!” Elrick whispers.
I drop to my knees, then crawl into the stall beside Elrick. Long spears of torchlight flicker off the faces of my companions.
“See,” someone yells. “There are lights in the back!”
Footsteps echo off the stalls. A lot of footsteps.
“Search the stalls,” a man’s voice orders.
Fear closes its cold fist around my gut. Someone whimpers in the darkness beside me. Maybe it’s Anura. Maybe it’s my wife.
I come to my feet before my mind can object.
Torchlight washes over me. I step under the bar of the stall as men run toward me, the light of their lanterns blinding me. A dozen voices shout questions at me all at once. I hold my hands up at my side and smile until one voice rises above the rest.
“You,” a man growls. “I know who you are.”
He steps forward, holding a lantern over his head. He stares at me like he’s examining a piece of jewelry to see if it’s fake. He’s one of the guards who met us on the road and led us to the palace.
“You’re a fucking prince,” he growls. “What in the hells are you doing in here?”
I smile at him, then at the dozen armed men behind him.
“I’m taking my leave of this place,” I say, as lightly as possible. “I don’t believe your prince and I have anything further to discuss.”
The guard’s face twists into a scowl. My heart hammers inside the back of my throat. I want to take another step toward the guard, away from the stall hiding what’s left of the royal family of Marion, but I don’t dare draw attention to that part of the stables.
“No,” someone calls from behind him. “He wouldn’t leave by himself.”
My smile feels like it’s frozen on my face. That’s one of the guards who led us back to our rooms, one of the men who sat at the table in the kitchens when I gambled away my dagger. The man in front spits at my feet, then turns back to the guards.
“Search the damn stalls,” he growls.
I take a breath. My hand drops to my dagger.
I can’t beat all of them, but by the gods, I can make them regret coming here. Lamplight swings over me as my hand closes around the hilt of my dagger. One of the guards gasps and takes a step backward.
“You’re right,” my wife says, from behind me. “I’m leaving with him.”