Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Driochmor Village
Danger Unseen
“We will talk. Now!” Dravic commanded.
Adira felt the force of his demand in the muscles that grew taut in his arm around her waist and the way his chest expanded. He intended to have his way. Whatever that may be.
“As you wish, my king,” Ernach said with a slight bob of his head.
Dravic ignored the whispering chatter going on around him, though he did not ignore the fact that Ernach referred to him as my king. If he had betrayed the crown, why would he remain respectful to it?
He spread his cloak open, off Adira, to fall only on his shoulders, then he pointed to the ground to let her know he was going to dismount.
She nodded, her hand quickly leaving his arm where it rested, knowing she was not permitted to touch him in public.
After he dismounted, Dravic reached for Adira. His hands settled around her waist and lifted her gently from the saddle. Once her feet touched the snow-covered ground, he took her hand and held it firmly in his own.
There was a time she was frightened when he would take her hand and now, she looked forward to it, forward to feeling that connection, to not feeling alone.
She looked up at him and saw tension in his face. As king, she had come to learn he carried many burdens, but this tension she saw and felt in him was heavier than she had ever felt in him. And she wondered and worried over it.
Dravic looked to Ernach. “Do not keep me waiting.”
Ernach studied the king for a moment before turning toward the path that wound its way through the village.
Dravic walked beside him, Adira at his side, his hand never leaving hers.
The sight did not go unnoticed. The villagers watched and murmurs spread quickly. They knew he was king. But they did not know who the woman was who walked beside him. The woman whose hand he held.
The guards followed behind them, while Hollis remained with Vachel, talking.
Ernach’s cottage stood apart from the village, a simple dwelling surrounded by trees and untouched snow.
Dravic’s first thought was that a man hunted as a traitor to the crown should not have such a peaceful home, especially here in the forbidden land. But then he was beginning to think that truths he had been told may not have been truths after all.
Ernach opened the door and motioned for them to enter.
Two of his guards entered first, looked around, and seeing it safe, let Dravic know it was safe to enter.
Warmth from the hearth greeted them as they settled inside.
The cottage was simple but comfortable. A small table stood near the fire, a few chairs arranged around it, and shelves lined with carefully preserved books and scrolls. It was more of a home to a scholar than a traitor.
Dravic guided Adira to a chair nearest the hearth and waited until she sat before removing his cloak and dropping it across her lap.
Ernach watched silently, a slight narrowing of his eyes showed he had noticed.
The young prince he had once known would never have considered such a thing. Not because he lacked kindness, but because he had been raised to believe duty came before everything… before everyone.
Yet here he stood, a king who had crossed into forbidden lands, and the first thing he did before questioning a so-called traitor was to make certain the woman beside him was warm and comfortable.
Before Ernach could speak, a familiar voice came from near the hearth.
“I told you he would wise up and come here.”
Dravic turned sharply.
A tiny figure flitted into view, her expression filled with satisfaction.
For a moment, Dravic simply stared, then he scowled. “And here I thought I was finally rid of you.”
Fiora laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that filled the small cottage.
“You missed me. I know you did.” She folded her tiny arms. “You just do not want to admit it.”
Dravic’s brow wrinkled. “I can assure you—”
“You missed me,” Fiora interrupted with a grin.
Adira watched the exchange, her eyes moving between them. She did not understand the words, but she understood the familiarity. The king was different with this tiny creature. Though annoyed, more often than not, he was less guarded.
Dravic turned his attention back to Ernach. “You knew I was coming here.”
Ernach did not deny it. “I had no reason to doubt Fiora when she told me.”
Fiora lifted her chin. “I knew you’d find your way through that snowstorm and figured I’d meet you here.”
“And how did you know that?” Dravic asked.
“Fairies have their ways. Now it is time for you two to talk,” Fiora said, planting herself on the wooden mantel.
Dravic remained standing.
He had entered the land his grandfather had forbidden him to enter. He had listened to rumors that challenged everything he believed, but rumors were not enough.
“I want the truth,” Dravic said. “Not excuses. Not lies meant to protect the dead or condemn them.”
Ernach met his gaze steadily. “I did not betray the crown.”
“Then why did my grandfather order your death?”
A sadness crossed the old man’s face. “Because I disagreed with him.”
Dravic’s brow tightened. “On what?”
“Driochmor. Magic.”
Silence settled over the small cottage.
“Once victory was at hand, King Halric decided to banish magic to Driochmor. He insisted that magic could no longer be trusted. He believed it was a threat to Scotara.” Ernach shook his head slowly. “I believed the opposite.”
Dravic remained silent, listening.
Ernach moved closer to the hearth, his gaze drifting toward the flames.
“During the Great War, when our enemies crossed our borders, we were outnumbered. We were losing ground. Many believed Scotara would fall.” His eyes returned to Dravic.
“But Driochmor stood with us. They fought beside our warriors. They healed the wounded. They protected our lands when we could not protect ourselves.” Ernach’s voice hardened.
“Without them, Scotara would not have survived. We would not have stood so close to victory.”
Dravic continued to listen.
“Your grandfather saw only the danger,” Ernach said, shaking his head lightly. “He could not see what they had done for us. He feared what he could not control.”
“And you challenged him.”
Ernach nodded. “I did.”
“Knowing what would happen?”
Ernach looked at him. “Aye.”
Dravic studied him. “You were always faithful to my grandfather. Why risk everything when you knew what would happen?”
Ernach was silent for a long moment, then he said a single word that caught Dravic off guard.
“Love.”
“Love?” Dravic repeated.
“Aye.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the window, toward the forest beyond.
“I loved a woman from Driochmor. She was not what my king believed these people to be. She was not dangerous. She was not something to fear. She was kind, wise, and gifted in ways that made her no less human than you or me.”
Dravic watched him carefully.
“She opened my eyes to a land and a people your grandfather had already judged without ever truly knowing them.” Ernach’s voice softened.
“I saw the good in Driochmor because she showed it to me. I saw the beauty of their magic because I saw the heart behind it.” He looked directly at Dravic.
“And when King Halric decided that everything connected to magic must be destroyed or driven away, I could not stand silent.”
Dravic’s expression remained guarded. “You knew he would see it as betrayal.”
“Aye. I could see it in his eyes.”
“And you still spoke against him.”
“I had to.” Ernach held his gaze. “Because sometimes loyalty is not agreeing with a king. Sometimes loyalty is having the courage to tell him when he is wrong.” He smiled softly and his eyes grew misty.
“I do not regret it. I got to spend twenty wonderful years with my Cara before death took her from me. I moved here, closer to the Caerith border, not long after, knowing the day might come when Driochmor would need defending again.”
For years Dravic had believed Ernach betrayed the crown. He had believed his grandfather’s judgment was righteous and unquestionable. Now, for the first time, he wondered if the truth had been hidden from him.
“NOOOOOOOOOOO!”
An anguished scream cut through the silence and froze everyone briefly.
Adira felt it. The sound did not reach her ears, but something within her reacted to it. Her attention shifted toward the door, her green eyes fixed on it as if she sensed what waited beyond.
Fiora noticed but drew no attention to it.
Dravic was already moving, the urgency in the scream drawing his attention away from everything else. He went to Adira and hurried her out of the chair and against his side as he headed to the door.
The moment they stepped outside, they saw that the village had erupted into panic.
A woman stumbled through the gathering crowd, clutching a small girl against her chest. Blood matted the child’s dark hair and streaked down the side of her face, staining her mother’s garment.
“Nay! Nay!” the woman sobbed. “Please!”
Ernach’s face tightened with worry. “That’s Doria, Vachel’s daughter. Barely six years.”
Villagers rushed toward her.
Vachel broke through the crowd and gathered his daughter into his arms, his wife staying close to his side.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice breaking.
His wife struggled to speak through her tears. “She… she climbed one of the snow mounds.” A sob caught in her throat. “I told her not to. She slipped…” She shook her head helplessly. “There was a sharp rock hidden beneath the snow. Her head struck it.”
Vachel looked down at his daughter cradled against him. Without another word, he turned and hurried toward a small stone cottage at the edge of the village.
“The healer,” someone whispered.
The villagers followed.
Some prayed while others wept.
Behind them came the hushed whispers no parent should ever hear.
“The blow was too hard.”
“Too much blood.”
“The poor lass.”
Dravic watched them disappear into the cottage before turning to Ernach. “Surely their magic can heal her.”
Ernach slowly shook his head. “It is not that simple.”
“I was told the people of Driochmor possess magic unlike any other,” Dravic said, considering he might have been told more tales than truths.
“Driochmor is a place of magic, not miracles. Magic can mend much,” Ernach said. “It can ease pain, strengthen what has grown weak, and sometimes help the body heal itself. But it cannot command life to remain when the body can no longer hold it.”
Dravic’s brow narrowed. “What of the healer who can do that?”
“The one who defies death?” Ernach shook his head. “I know the tale, not the truth.”
“Tell me more about magic,” Dravic all but ordered.
Ernach shook his head slowly. “I am not the one to ask. You need to ask those born of it. But tell me, my king, do you not wonder what precipitated your grandfather’s hatred for magic, when the Driochmorians had been so faithful to him?”
“I am looking for answers not more questions,” Dravic snapped sharply.
“You forget where you are,” Ernach cautioned.
Dravic took a quick step toward Ernach, his hand falling away from Adira’s.
“I know exactly where I am, in Scotara, the kingdom I rule over. And I rule over every single part of it. There is not a section, not a mountain, not a river, not a forest, not a morsel of land that does not fall under my rule. So, I would remind you not to forget who I am.”
“An arsehole like your grandfather,” Fiora said, her small arms planted firmly across her chest, just waiting for him to challenge her.
Adira watched the sharp exchange of expressions and gestures, having no idea what had caused such sudden anger, but it troubled her. She felt an overwhelming urge to go into the forest and seek some peace, if only for a short time.
She glanced at the king. He was well into a disagreement with the old man and the fairy, and they were not that far from the old man’s cottage, the forest just a few steps behind it.
Did she dare steal a few moments in the forest as she once had? The urge was far too great to ignore. She slipped quietly away, the three so engrossed in whatever it was they debated that not one of them noticed her leave.
Drawn by an urge she neither understood nor could resist, Adira paid no heed to her surroundings, something Feena had taught her never to do, and wisely so. Without being able to hear or speak, she had learned to watch everyone and everything around her.
But not this time, she had too little time to even give it thought.
Horses’ hooves pounded the snow-covered ground as a group of Hunters thundered toward the village. They entered at such a dangerous pace that women snatched their bairns from the roadway, men leaped aside, and more than one elder was pulled to safety only moments before the riders swept past.
Adira heard nothing. She simply kept on walking.
The lead Hunter spotted her and shouted, “MOVE!”
Adira kept her brisk pace.
Dravic turned at the shout and his heart lurched then slammed against his chest.
Adira stood directly in the path of the Hunters.