Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Name in the Silence
Questions of the Past
Talk of the white Wolfin followed them as they continued deeper into Driochmor.
The men made little attempt to keep their voices low, their excitement obvious in animated gestures and frequent glances toward the king.
Adira did not need to hear them to know what held their attention.
They spoke of the magnificent creature and the way she had walked fearlessly among them to bow before their king.
None of them had noticed where the Wolfin’s gold eyes had truly rested.
Adira had. And she had heard her.
Welcome home.
The words had been so clear that even now she could hear them in her head, though the strange opening that had allowed them through seemed to have closed again.
She did not understand what the Wolfin meant. This was not her home. She had never been here before, never walked these forests or known the creatures that inhabited them. Yet the Wolfin had looked directly at her when those words reached her.
Had the creature spoken them?
Adira could not be certain.
She had seen no movement of the Wolfin’s mouth beyond what she would expect from such a creature, and yet the words had come as clearly as if someone was standing beside her and whispered them into her ear.
Dravic’s fingers slipped beneath her chin and lifted her face.
Adira was startled from her thoughts to find him watching her.
Concern lingered in his eyes. He thought she was frightened.
She smiled and shook her head, hoping it would be enough to reassure him.
His brow remained furrowed.
Apparently, it was not.
Adira gave him a firmer shake of her head and placed her hand briefly over the arm he kept secure around her waist.
She was fine. Confused, but fine.
His eyes narrowed slightly, making it obvious he remained unconvinced, but he finally released her chin and turned his attention back to the path.
Adira settled against him once again. She would tell him if she could. She simply did not know how. How did she explain that silence was no longer silent when she did not understand it herself?
The voices of the men continued around her, mouths moving, faces alive with the excitement of what they had witnessed.
Every so often something brushed against her awareness, so faint she could not be certain whether it was sound or simply the strange whispers that had followed her since entering Driochmor.
She concentrated harder, but whatever she heard was gone before she could catch it.
Adira turned slightly, watching the men riding behind them. Several spoke at once, making it impossible to know where the faint sounds came from.
Then two words broke free of everything else.
“King Dravic.”
Adira froze.
The sounds vanished as quickly as they had come, but this time she knew exactly where they had come from.
One of the warriors riding ahead of them.
Her gaze went immediately to the man whose mouth continued to move as he spoke to the warrior beside him. She could hear nothing more.
But she had heard those two words.
King Dravic.
Her eyes widened.
King, she understood. Feena had managed to teach her what some written words meant. She had taught her the word king and a gesture for it once they arrived at Caerith Castle.
But the other… Dravic.
Her gaze slowly lifted to the man she rested against.
That was his name.
He had always simply been the king to her.
Dravic.
She repeated the sound silently in her thoughts, afraid she might lose it if she did not hold tightly to it.
Dravic.
A warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with his body pressed against hers.
She knew his name. The thought pleased her so much that a smile escaped before she could stop it.
His fingers were beneath her chin again almost immediately.
Adira looked up.
His questioning stare demanded an explanation.
Her smile only grew. How could she possibly tell him that the reason for it was him?
She went to reach up and touch the deep lines between his eyes where his brow had knitted tightly but recalled it would not be proper and stilled her hand.
Dravic’s gaze dropped to her hand that moved then stopped abruptly, and he knew she meant to touch him. He wished she could—touch him without permission, without question whenever she wanted to. He loved the feel of her hand upon him, though he favored it more upon his naked skin.
Stop, he silently warned himself. Not here. Not now.
For a moment neither moved.
Then his eyes returned to hers.
Maintaining her smile, Adira slowly adjusted the ties on her cloak to make it appear as if it was her intention all along.
Dravic stared at her another moment before releasing her chin, but she caught the faintest change in his expression as he looked ahead again.
He knew she intended to touch him and he wanted her to. And that gave her heart a joyful squeeze and kept her smile strong.
Adira settled back against him, holding her newly discovered treasure carefully in her thoughts.
Dravic.
She liked his name.
She liked even more that he had wanted her to touch him.
They continued on, the encounter with the Wolfin gradually falling behind them, though the talk of it did not. Adira caught no more words, only an occasional sound that slipped unexpectedly into her silence and disappeared before she could make sense of it.
She did not mind. She had heard enough for now.
The forest grew denser as they traveled, the path narrowing enough in places that the men were forced to ride two abreast. Snow clung heavily to the pine branches and covered the ground in an unbroken blanket except where their horses left deep tracks behind them.
Dravic had grown impatient.
Adira could feel it in him. His arm remained secure around her, his hold no different than before, but his attention had turned elsewhere. He looked ahead more often, occasionally toward Ernach, and several times she saw his jaw tighten as if some thought continued to annoy him.
Then his eyes suddenly searched the area around them. “Fiora!”
The fairy popped out from beneath the hood of one of the warriors riding in front of them, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“What?” she demanded, flying toward the king.
“I have a message for you to deliver.”
Fiora immediately shook her head. “Nay.”
Dravic scowled at her.
Adira watched the exchange with amusement, the expression letting her know that the fairy was having fun tormenting the king. And his arm tightened around her, confirming it.
“Did you not hear me give you an order?”
“My ears may be tiny, but I have no trouble hearing.”
“Good. Then you will do as ordered?”
“Nope. I’m not going.”
Seger, riding nearby, turned his face away, though not quickly enough to hide his grin.
Dravic caught it. “Something amuses you, Seger?”
“Nay, my king.”
“Then wipe the smile from your face.”
It vanished.
Fiora folded her arms across her chest. “You can command him all you want. You cannot command me.”
“I have noticed,” Dravic said, his irritation obvious. “You have also made it clear you wish to be useful. Here is your opportunity.”
“I am useful.”
“Then take my message to the High Council.”
“Nay.”
Dravic brought his horse to a stop, forcing everyone to do the same.
Adira glanced from the king to the tiny fairy hovering before him. She did not appear the least concerned that her refusal had brought the entire king’s troop to a halt, which had to mean she was refusing to obey an order he had given her.
Dravic’s eyes narrowed. “You will go to the High Council and tell them King Dravic is in Driochmor and making his way to them.”
The sound of his name reached Adira again… Dravic.
This time there was no doubt. Her heart gave a little jump of pleasure, though she kept her expression carefully composed.
“I also want to know what has been learned about the Morvane Clan and the symbols that were discovered,” Dravic continued. “You will bring their answer directly to me.”
Fiora shook her head through every word.
Dravic’s patience visibly thinned. “What possible reason could you have for refusing?”
“I’m not leaving you and Adira.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly, but Adira saw it.
“Why?”
“Because you both need me.”
“We certainly do not,” Dravic argued.
“Aye, you do. You’re just too stubbornly foolish to realize it.”
Dravic looked ready to reach out and snatch the tiny fairy from the air.
Fiora apparently thought so as well. She flew just beyond his reach. “It will not be me who delivers it, but I will see it done.”
Dravic’s hand settled back on the reins. “How?”
“I’ll get another fairy to take it.”
He rubbed his face in frustration. “You could have said that before refusing me.”
“And miss seeing that vein in your forehead start to throb?” Fiora grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Seger’s laugh quickly turned to a cough.
Dravic’s gaze shot toward him.
The Hunter looked suddenly fascinated by the forest.
Adira lowered her head, unable to stop the smile that surfaced, the expressions on Dravic and the fairy’s face revealing that the fairy had bested him again.
Fiora spotted it and her grin widened. “See? Adira thinks I’m funny.”
Dravic glanced down.
Adira immediately wiped the smile from her face.
His brow rose.
She stared innocently back at him.
For several moments, he simply looked at her before turning to Fiora.
“Go and see that this fairy gets the task done for you.”
Fiora gave him an exaggerated bow. “As my king commands.”
“It would do you well to remember I am your king and it is your duty to obey me.”
“Your message will get delivered, my king. Be grateful.” She disappeared into the forest laughing.
Dravic watched the spot where she vanished. “Annoying little creature.”
Adira felt another chuckle rise in her chest.
His questioning gaze dropped to her, and she quickly looked away.
They had traveled some distance before Ernach urged his horse forward to ride beside the king.
“The path narrows farther ahead, but once beyond it the travel grows easier,” he said. “If we keep a steady pace, we should reach Thorskaill Village shortly before dusk.”
Dravic glanced toward the gray sky. The light would begin fading early, and the cold had sharpened considerably since leaving the last village.
“Will we be welcomed?”
Ernach smiled faintly. “You are in Driochmor, my king. Welcome is never guaranteed.”
Dravic frowned at him.
“But you will be given shelter,” Ernach added. “The people of Thorskaill have little interest in who rules beyond Driochmor as long as whoever enters their village brings no trouble.”
“I seem to be bringing a considerable amount of trouble with me.”
Ernach chuckled. “Then perhaps we should not tell them.”
Dravic almost smiled. Almost.
Adira caught it and wondered what Ernach had said. She had come to recognize that particular look. The king was amused, though he would probably deny it if anyone dared suggest it.
She settled more comfortably against him as the two men continued to talk. Every so often a sound penetrated the silence, nothing she could grasp, nothing as clear as his name had been. Still, she listened, wondering if another word might find its way to her.
“What did my father know of Driochmor?” Dravic asked.
Father.
Adira heard it and for some reason it sounded familiar to her. But how could that be so?
Ernach took his time answering. “More than your grandda wanted him to.”
Dravic’s attention sharpened. “Explain.”
“King Halric did not trust Driochmor. He feared what he did not understand, and there was much here he did not understand. Your da was different. He was curious about things Halric preferred left alone.”
“My father came here?”
Father.
There it was again. Adira heard it clearly.
“Aye.”
“How often?”
“Enough that people knew him.”
That surprised Dravic.
Growing up beneath his grandfather’s rule, Dravic had believed his grandda told him all he needed to know about his da.
But his grandda had never mentioned that Edric had shown interest in Driochmor and had visited here.
Why hadn’t his grandda told him that? Looking back on it now, there had always been remarkably little substance to the stories about his da.
A skilled swordsman. A fine hunter. A keen strategist. A strong leader.
All were words his grandda had repeated over and over.
Now there seemed to be an entire life no one had bothered to tell him about.
“Why did he come here?” Dravic asked.
Ernach glanced at him. “You ask questions that have answers attached to other questions.”
“I asked one.”
“And I heard it.”
“Then answer it,” Dravic demanded.
“Your da wanted to understand Driochmor,” Ernach finally said. “Not conquer it. Not control it. Understand it. He believed there was much here Scotara could learn from if people stopped fearing everything they could not explain.”
“Why did my father want to understand it? He ruled over it.”
She heard it again… father.
And again, she wondered how the word could sound familiar to her.
When it became obvious the older man intended to say nothing more, his patience thinned.
“You have developed an annoying habit of deciding what I should and should not know.”
“I have developed an old man’s habit of knowing when one answer will lead to twenty more.”
“I have time for twenty.”
Ernach laughed softly. “I suspected you would.”
Adira felt the rumble of Dravic’s response beneath her hand where it rested against his chest. She wished desperately that more words would break through. She listened until the effort itself began to frustrate her, but nothing came.
Ernach was quiet for several moments before he looked toward Dravic again. “You ask much about your grandda and da, but nothing of your mum.”
Dravic’s expression hardened slightly. “I know all I need to about my mum.”
Ernach nodded. “Do you?”