Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Caerith Castle
The King’s Solar
“Enter.”
Kaelan stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.
His gaze swept over the king’s solar before settling on Dravic.
The chamber was modest compared to the rest of the castle.
A sturdy desk stood near the window, shelves of ledgers and rolled maps lined one wall, and a small hearth kept the room comfortably warm against the winter chill.
Two chairs sat before the hearth, positioned for conversation rather than ceremony.
It was a room meant for private matters.
Kaelan’s gaze fell on Adira sitting quietly near the fire with her stitching resting in her lap.
She looked up when he entered and he wondered how she knew he entered when she could not hear.
Then he recalled Bria reminding him how Adira could feel things and no doubt she felt a shift in the room when he opened the door.
The king stood with one hand resting lightly on the mantel, watching the flames rather than his guest.
Without preamble, he said, “I want you to return home to Northland.”
“Why?”
Dravic turned to the sideboard, filled two goblets with wine, and handed one to Kaelen before taking a seat. Then he pointed to the chair beside him.
Kaelan sat but made no move to speak.
Dravic took a swallow of wine. “Once again, war looms over Scotara.”
Kaelan continued to remain silent.
“I know little of Northland beyond what I remember as a child, and those memories are few.” He paused briefly.
“With my mother having been the daughter of King Eirik, that makes him my grandfather.” He rested the goblet on the arm of his chair.
“If Tharne comes against Scotara in the spring, I need to know whether my mother’s family will stand beside this kingdom… or against it.”
Kaelan did not answer immediately. Instead, he studied Dravic for a long moment. “You truly know nothing of Northland, do you?”
“Very little.”
“Then before I carry such a request to my grandfather, you should know the people whose aid you seek… and whose blood you share.”
Kaelan settled back in his chair, his gaze drifting briefly to the flames before returning to Dravic.
“Northlanders are not easily understood by those who have never crossed our borders. We are a hard people, forged by long winters, unforgiving mountains, and seas that claim the careless without mercy.” He took another swallow of wine.
“Strength is expected of every man and woman born there. Children learn early that no one survives alone. We hunt together, fight together, grieve together. If one family suffers, the whole village shares the burden.” A faint smile touched his lips.
“Our grandfather, King Eirik, has often said that the cold teaches lessons no man can afford to ignore. Pride will not keep you warm. Only those willing to stand beside another live to see spring.”
Dravic remained silent, listening.
“We are a fiercely loyal people,” Kaelan continued. “Betray one of us and you have made an enemy of us all. Earn our trust…” He paused briefly. “…and we will stand beside you until our last breath.”
Kaelan’s expression grew thoughtful.
“Your mother understood that better than anyone. She never stopped being a daughter of Northland, even after she wed your father.” He looked directly at Dravic. “Which is why your grandfather never stopped mourning her… or wondering what became of the grandson he was forbidden to know.”
Dravic gave no outward sign of surprise, though Kaelan’s words struck him harder than he cared to admit.
He took a slow swallow of wine before saying, “Strange. My grandfather led me to believe just the opposite.”
Kaelan frowned. “In what way?”
“That Northland abandoned me after the death of my parents, I never saw any of them again. Not a single one.”
Kaelan stared at him in stunned silence. “We were told we were never to visit Scotara. That we were to have nothing further to do with you.”
“Then why would my grandfather tell me otherwise?” Dravic challenged, not believing him.
“That…” He held Dravic’s gaze. “…is a question worth asking.”
Silence settled between them. The only sound, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.
Neither man spoke, each left with thoughts neither had expected to entertain when the conversation began.
Kaelan broke the silence first. “You need not send me to Northland to learn the answer.”
“And why would that be?” Dravic asked, his tone brisk.
“Simple. King Eirik would never stand against his grandson. He would stand beside him without question.”
Dravic remained skeptical. “You speak with remarkable certainty.”
Kaelan leaned back in his chair. “I know my grandfather well.”
“I will have King Eirik speak those words himself to you, and you deliver them to me,” Dravic said.
“Hear them for yourself,” Kaelan said. “Invite him here. He will be only too pleased to visit his grandson, the king. My knowledge of what caused the rift that kept you from your mother’s people is only what I was told. Learn the truth from the man who lived it… your grandfather.”
Kaelan was met with silence, and he remained quiet as well, sipping his wine, as the weight of his words settled in.
Dravic thought about his grandfather’s warning. Never trust the Northlanders. They lie to benefit their own. Yet Kaelan spoke of loyalty, of family as something unbreakable. So, which grandfather speaks the truth?
“Either way,” Kaelan said, “I would not be able to go home right now, nor would our grandfather be able to travel here.”
Dravic went to argue but Kaelan spoke quickly.
“The North Sea is unforgiving in winter. Any ship foolish enough to sail would undoubtedly not survive.”
“And yet I have heard tales of those who did,” Dravic said.
“Tales, not truths. For now, permit Bria and me to return to Driochmor.”
Dravic’s brow lifted.
“Bria’s and Wynn’s skills combined will no doubt reveal what is needed regarding the markings. Dar and Elara can continue their search for the exceptional healer.”
“And what will you do in Driochmor besides keeping your wife and her great-grandmother safe?” Dravic asked.
“I will find out what spies still lurk in Driochmor and who has aligned themselves with Tharne.”
Dravic studied him. “And I should trust you to be truthful with me?”
“Have I given you reason to doubt me? I could have kept my wife hidden away, not brought you the information we found, and returned home without you knowing I was even here. But I didn’t. Though it was a dangerous choice to make… I chose to trust you. After all, we are family.”
“And what if I had executed your wife on sight?”
Kaelan’s grin vanished. “I would have killed you and welcomed death so I could be with her once again.”
Dravic could not help but admire his courage and be envious of such a powerful love. Such love, he would never know.
Dravic brushed the thought away. “You think there are more spies in Driochmor?”
Kaelan nodded. “I do, and I think their plan is to build an army. One, not made of steel alone… but of magic. Something that will strike Scotara when the time is right.”
“I have considered the same,” Dravic admitted.
“And have kept it to yourself, knowing if such news spread, fear would spread with it.”
“We think alike,” Dravic said.
Kaelan smiled and shrugged. “Of course, we’re cousins, family.”
“We keep this between us,” Dravic ordered.
“I think we should share it with Dar. I have known him only for a short time, but one can tell upon meeting him that he is an honorable man. That gives you more eyes in Driochmor that you can trust.”
“I have yet to decide if I should trust you.”
Kaelan smirked. “I think the same of you.”
Dravic nearly smiled. “I will give you permission to do as you request but betray me, and you and your wife will die together.”
“I appreciate that you would keep us together,” Kaelan said with a chuckle. “Though I have no worries, for I would never betray my cousin.”
“And the king?”
Kaelan laughed again. “The king is lucky he is my cousin.”
Dravic dismissed him with a shake of his head. “Go and ready yourself and your wife to leave by midday tomorrow.”
Kaelan stood. “Aye, my king.”
“I thought I wasn’t your king.”
“I respect your title, but truly, you are just a cousin to me.”
“One who won’t fail me?”
“That, cousin, you can count on,” Kaelan said, and with a respectful bow of his head, left the room.
Dravic sat lost in his thoughts for a while, then swallowed the last of the wine in his goblet before standing.
Adira felt the shift in the room and looked to see the king standing near her.
“It is late,” he said as if she could hear him and held his hand out to her.
She understood immediately and, without hesitation, she placed her hand in his.
He helped her to her feet.
Together they left the solar and climbed the stone steps to his bedchamber, the torchlight flickering along the walls as they moved through the quiet corridors of Caerith Castle.
Inside the chamber, the fire burned strong in the hearth.
Adira waited until the king released her hand, then moved without hesitation toward the shadowed corner near the far wall.
It had become habit now—privacy where she could change without being seen.
She turned her back to the room and began removing her outer dress, folding it carefully, leaving on the simple shift beneath that she slept in.
Dravic walked to his bed and began to undress as well, unfastening the clasps of his tunic, the fabric falling away from his shoulders. The firelight caught the strength of his muscles as he turned toward the basin near the hearth.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter,” Dravic called out.
The door opened and a woman stepped inside.
Adira recognized her immediately. Tall and slender and far more beautiful than the other women who occasionally shared the king’s bed. Though Adira believed she was a favorite of his since she visited more often than the others.
She smiled and boldly stepped forward as if she belonged there and moved immediately toward him.
“My king,” she said softly.
Dravic raised one hand. “Not tonight, Eunice.”