Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The Land That Rules
Driochmor Village
“Where in Driochmor?” Dravic demanded.
Hollis shifted beneath the king’s stare. “Near the border, my king. There is an old settlement beyond the eastern ridge. He keeps to a cottage apart from the others.”
“You will show me.”
Hollis’s eyes widened. “You mean to go there?”
Dravic’s tone cautioned. “You dare question your king?”
Hollis’s face paled. “Forgive me, my king.”
“You have one hour to gather what you need,” Dravic ordered.
“Aye, my king.” Hollis bobbed his head and hurried off, the other man hurrying along after him.
Dravic turned to Skellie. “We will eat now.”
The innkeeper dipped into a quick bow. “Right away, my king.”
Dravic turned to Adira and pointed to the bench at the table.
She sat and he dropped down beside her.
Adira’s gaze drifted from face to face, studying each expression, every movement, searching for meaning in words she could not hear.
The old man’s startled expression lingered in her thoughts, as did the unmistakable determination that had settled over the king.
Something important had changed. She simply did not know what.
Dravic looked to the two guards. “Are there any more of my guards within riding distance?”
“Possibly four, my king,” one guard answered.
“And Hunters?”
The other guard spoke up. “We passed a few yesterday, six or seven, suspending their search for Drogath spies to help us search for you.”
“One of you will go fetch them and the other will go and fetch more of my warriors.”
The two guards glanced quickly at each other before one spoke.
“That would leave you alone, my king, and the Master of Arms would have our heads if we dared leave you completely alone.”
The other guard hurried to offer, “Your guards are closer. I could ride and let them know you are here. Then I can track the Hunters and bring them to you while Cadby remains with you. If that is acceptable to you, my king?”
Dravic was impressed by the young guard’s quick thinking.
“Your name?” he asked.
“Percy, my king,” he said with a brief dip of his head.
“See it done, Percy,” Dravic ordered.
“Aye, my king, I will send them here to you.”
“I will not wait long,” Dravic warned. “Have them follow our tracks if we are not here.”
Percy looked about to disagree, but quickly held his tongue, bobbed his head, and hurried off.
Adira continued to watch. Plans were being made, though she could see from the guards’ expressions that they were not in agreement with their king. But no one dared disobey the king.
She smiled when servants placed platters of food on the table and Skellie filled tankards with hot cider—apple by the scent of it.
“Skellie,” Dravic said.
Skellie stood straighter before the king.
“My companion needs a wool cloak that will keep the cold at bay.”
“Aye, my king. We have a talented weaver here. She will have what you need. I will see it brought to you.”
“You will be well compensated for it.”
“Not necessary, my king. I am only too pleased to provide what you need.”
“Nonsense,” Dravic snapped. “You work, you earn, no matter who it is.”
Adira watched Skellie stare at the king a moment before bobbing his head and walking away. He had been surprised at something the king said, but there had also been admiration in his eyes. Whatever the king had said, it had gained even more of Skellie’s respect for the king.
A quiet peace settled over the room as everyone focused on food and drink.
Adira enjoyed the porridge and fresh bread while she saw that the king favored the smoked ham and quail eggs. The guard ate as well, the king having insisted on it, after watching the exchange between the two.
It made her wonder how long they would be traveling if the king had insisted his guard eat before they left.
After most of the food was eaten and the tankards emptied, Dravic stood and everyone in the room rose.
“We leave now,” Dravic said, turning to Cadby.
Cadby nodded and went to the door.
Skellie hurried over to the king and handed him a deep green wool cloak.
“The finest the weaver had, my king.”
Dravic gave a quick nod, took the cloak from him, and slipped it around Adira’s shoulders. Before he took hold of her hand to lead her to the door, he dropped several coins on the table.
Skellie’s eyes widened. “Thank you, my king, and may your journey be a safe one.”
Others in the inn followed suit, wishing the king well.
Their horses waited, clouds of white breath rising from their nostrils.
Hollis stood beside his mount, his hands restless on the reins. Whatever courage had prompted him to speak of Ernach seemed to have abandoned him now that he was expected to lead the king into Driochmor.
The winter wind bit Adira’s face, though she was glad the heavy wool cloak the king had surprised her with keep the cold at bay.
Once they reached his stallion, Dravic’s hands gripped her waist more firmly than usual and lifted her with practiced ease onto his horse.
Then he swung up behind her, settled her across the saddle and comfortably against him, then wrapped his cloak around them both, keeping her in a cocoon of warmth.
For a while, Adira simply rested there.
The steady rhythm of the horse beneath them, the warmth surrounding her, and the quiet strength of the king resting against her brought a peace she had not expected.
His arm remained secure around her as he guided the stallion through the snow-covered landscape, his body shielding hers from the sharp winter wind.
She watched the world pass around them.
Snow-laden trees stretched endlessly along the path, their branches heavy beneath their white covering. The farther they traveled, the fewer signs of people they encountered. No homes. No smoke rising from chimneys. No voices of villagers going about their day.
Only the forest.
Adira had missed it more than she realized. She had spent so much time within the castle walls since coming to Caerith that she had almost forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by trees, to see the way sunlight touched the branches, to watch small creatures move unseen among the roots.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the king’s cloak.
Then something changed.
She turned her head. For a moment, she thought she felt the wind differently. Not simply against her face, but around her.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched the trees sway, then she went still.
She heard something. Impossible. She couldn’t have.
There it was again. Faint. But it was there.
Her heart quickened as she heard the cold wind whisper through the trees and the horses’ hooves strike the frozen ground.
The world was suddenly filled with sounds she had only ever imagined.
She closed her eyes. Nay. It could not be.
She opened them again and looked at the king. He was speaking. She could see his lips moving, his voice carrying no meaning to her as it always had. Yet she heard something.
A tremor passed through her.
Dravic immediately noticed. His arm tightened around her waist. He leaned closer, his mouth moving as he spoke.
She saw the concern in his eyes, but she could not hear him.
Not him. Only the whisper of the world around them.
Dravic studied her face, his concern deepening. “Adira?”
His voice was gentle, though she did not hear it.
He shifted his arm around her, pulling the cloak tighter around them. His eyes searched her face for any sign of what troubled her.
“Are you cold?”
Adira stared at him. She saw the question in his eyes, the slight furrow of his brow, the way his arm rested protectively around her. She saw and felt his concern.
But behind him… the wind whispered again.
Her gaze drifted past him toward the trees.
Dravic followed her gaze. “What is it?”
Before she could answer—even if she could have—Cadby called out.
“My king!”
Dravic immediately turned.
Four riders approached quickly through the snow-covered ground, their horses moving at a determined pace. He recognized the colors before he recognized the men.
His guards.
Dravic brought his stallion to a halt.
When the riders reached them, one dismounted and hurried forward, bowing.
“My king, Percy found us and it did not take long to find your trail and get to you.”
Dravic gave a brief nod. “And Percy?”
“He went after the Hunters as ordered.” The guard paused briefly. “My king…”
Dravic scowled at his slight hesitation. “Say what you will.”
The man lowered his voice. “You have crossed the border…”
“Do not hesitate again,” Dravic snapped.
The guard didn’t. “You have crossed into Driochmor.”
The other guards exchanged uneasy glances.
Dravic’s gaze shifted to Hollis on his horse next to Cadby.
Hollis had grown quiet, his attention moving between the king and the forest surrounding them.
Dravic studied him. “Is this true?”
Hollis hesitated only a moment before giving a slow nod. “Aye, my king.”
Dravic looked ahead.
The trees stretched endlessly before them, their branches heavy with snow. Nothing about the land appeared threatening. Nothing revealed the danger his grandfather had warned him of all his life.
Yet the unease among his men was unmistakable.
“Remain alert,” Dravic commanded.
The guards immediately straightened.
“Watch the trees and the path. Do not assume anything is as it appears.”
“Aye, my king,” they answered.
Dravic turned back to Hollis. “Fail to keep me informed again and you will suffer for it. Now, lead us to Ernach.”
The old man bowed his head. “Aye, my king.”
He guided his horse ahead of the others and proceeded deeper into the forest.
Dravic followed, Adira secure against him, his attention fixed on the land around them.
He searched for something. Anything. Any sign that this place was different. Any reminder of the danger his grandfather had spoken of.
But there was nothing.
The snow-covered hills were beautiful. The trees stood tall and ancient. The air was crisp and clean. It looked no different from any other forest in Scotara.
Dravic almost found that more unsettling.
What had he expected? Darkness creeping between the trees? Some visible mark that declared this was the forbidden land his grandfather had warned him never to enter?
His grandfather had spoken of Driochmor as a place of danger and hidden power, yet nothing before him matched those warnings.
Somewhere ahead was the man who might hold the answers to questions that had recently came to light. Questions he needed answered, though he was concerned about what answers he may find.
But did he trust the man his grandfather claimed had betrayed him? A man who should have been dead.
Dravic’s grip tightened slightly around the reins.
The path narrowed as they continued deeper into the forest, winding between towering trees whose branches stretched overhead like ancient guardians.
Hollis led them without hesitation, though more than once he glanced back toward the king and his guards as if still unable to believe who followed behind him.
It was not long before the trees began to thin.
Beyond them, tucked between snow-covered hills, lay a small village. Smoke curled from chimneys, rising lazily into the cold air. Stone cottages stood close together, their roofs heavy with snow, and a few villagers moved between them carrying baskets and bundles of wood.
The moment they spotted the riders approaching, movement slowed, and then stopped.
The villagers gathered quietly, their curiosity growing as they studied the strangers who had entered their home.
Dravic knew they had no idea who he was, but they knew enough to understand the man seated upon the powerful black stallion was someone of importance. His finely made garments, the sword at his side, and the guards who surrounded him spoke clearly of rank and authority.
A man stepped forward from the crowd.
He was not old, though the responsibility he carried showed in the steadiness of his gaze and his manner held the confidence of someone accustomed to making decisions for those who depended on him.
“Welcome to Purrock. I am Vachel, leader of this village.” His gaze shifted to the man who had led them there. “Hollis. It is good to see you.”
The old man nodded and smiled. “I always enjoy visiting, Vachel.”
Dravic took note of the familiarity that passed between them. Hollis was no stranger here. He seemed almost to belong here.
“You have brought a friend?” Vachel asked.
One could barely detect that Hollis shook his head, but Adira did and she gripped Dravic’s arm at her waist.
Dravic felt the slight tightening of her grip and understood that something had disturbed her. He immediately became even more alert than he already was.
Hollis took a breath and announced, “I have brought the King of Scotara. He wishes to speak with Ernach.”
Surprisingly, not a shocking gasp was heard, nor whispers sounded. The crowd went utterly silent.
“I am sure Ernach will speak with you,” Vachel said.
Dravic’s brow narrowed. “Ernach will speak with me because I command it.”
Vachel held his gaze. “He will speak with you because he chooses to.”
A slight tightening formed at the corner of Dravic’s mouth. “I am king and rule all of Scotara, its people and the land.”
A strong voice rose from the gathered crowd. “No one rules the land.”
The villagers turned.
Dravic did as well.
The crowd shifted aside as an old man approached.
He walked slowly, yet there was strength in every step. His shoulders were slightly bent by age, but his eyes remained sharp as he made his way through the gathered crowd.
He stopped near Dravic’s horse and looked up at him. “The land rules us.”
The words settled over the village.
Dravic stared down at him.
The old man held his gaze without fear. “A king who rules with no heart is no king.”
For a moment, the world around Dravic faded away.
He was no longer standing in Driochmor. He was once again a young prince standing in his grandfather’s hall, hearing those very words spoken to King Halric.
He remembered the anger that followed, the accusation of betrayal, and the following day an order issued by the king for Ernach be hunted down and killed.
Dravic looked at the old man before him. The years had taken their toll, but the voice, the words…
“Ernach,” Dravic said.
“Aye, it is I, and has the king come to finish what his grandfather started and take my life?”