Chapter 23
I froze. Oh no. "What?" I asked. "Edith, slow down, tell me what happened."
She trembled in fear, as if I was about to bring a guillotine down on her head. "I–I went to check on him this morning, and change his wound dressing, but... but he wasn't there!" She sobbed, "I'm so sorry, my lady, please, I even had the door locked but he must have managed to—"
I sighed, grabbing Edith's trembling hands. "It's fine, Edith. It's not your fault. Send for Gareth and organize a search. Discreetly. If he's still on the estate, I want every inch of it combed through."
I grit my teeth. I leave you alone for one day and you get into mischief?
I even offered you a job! I seethed, exiting my room quickly.
I had to find him, or the servants would be questioning why a strange man had entered their ranks.
That wound should have slowed him down.
He needed at least another week before he was in the clear and wasn't in danger of the wound opening up again. "Crazy bastard, what are you thinking?"
My stomach twisted, and Julian stood up after Edith left. He arched his brow. "And what do you suppose you'll do if we don't find him?"
"I..." I sighed. "I thought he was trustworthy. I mean, he took a blade for me, Julian!" Emotion raised in my voice, as I considered all the possibilities.
Julian sighed. "This is why you should have run this by me first before you hired him," He rubbed his temples, and offered me a hand to stand up.
"If he's out there, we'll find him," I said. A worse thought crept in—what if he didn't leave, but someone found him first? Either way, it meant we were in grave danger and the Black Dragon now knew about us. Would he really abandon us? Did I not offer enough gold?
Julian looked thoughtful, as we made our way briskly back to the manor. "Maybe he had a reason for leaving," He said.
"Reason or not, he should have stayed put," I said, gritting my teeth. "Perhaps I was a fool to trust him."
Nevertheless, friend or foe, we had to find him. Especially with the Black Dragon hunting him.
____
The search was not fruitful. Gareth, Barca, Jon, and some of the household servants spent the rest of the day and the next combing every place in the Manor we could think of, and even the forest outside.
Rowan had truly disappeared without a trace.
He's talented, to go that far with such a wound and leave no trace.
There was one last spot I hadn't checked, and that was Averine. He could have just as easily gone back there after giving us the slip. Tonight was our weekly meeting, too. It's a slim chance. However, it was a chance I was willing to take.
Upon Julians insistence, I took Gareth with me. We slipped out of the back of the manor and made our way into town, following the winding street down the hill.
The cobbled lane below was slick with last night's rain, lantern light pooling in puddles like molten gold. My heart pounded so fiercely I could almost hear it in my ears—every shadow seemed to shift with menace.
"Lady Rosaria," Gareth murmured beside me, hand resting on the pommel of his short sword. "Are you certain he came this way?"
I nodded, though doubt wove through me. "Rowan mentioned the Black Dragons meeting in these alleys. If he slipped back to Averine, this is where he'd come."
We turned down a narrow passage between two shuttered stalls. The walls pressed in, stacked with crates and barrels. Ahead, a lone lantern swung from a rusted bracket, its light too weak to reach every corner. My pulse quickened. "There," I whispered.
At the edge of the lantern's halo, I saw him: Rowan, standing with his back to the wall, one hand pressed against his side where the old bandage peeked from his tunic.
Before him, three figures cloaked in black had drawn short blades.
Their snarls sounded muffled in the gloom, but the glint of steel and the cruel tilt of their heads spoke everything.His sword lay discarded at his feet, and he crouched low.
""You shouldn't tempt fate, Rowan Blackwood," the tallest thug snarled. "It won't be so kind this time."
Rowan ground his teeth. "You bastards think you can stop me? You'll never finish your plans."
The man's lip curled in anger. "Once we've succeeded, the whole continent will kneel." He raised his sword to deliver the killing blow.
Before I could cry out, Gareth sprang forward, sword singing as he met the nearest thug's blade.
Steel rang against steel, and sparks flew under the sickly lantern glow.
Gareth parried a vicious overhead swing and drove his own sword through the attacker's shoulder—sending him crashing into a stack of barrels.
A second thug lunged at Rowan's side, but the distraction was all he needed.
Rowan's eyes flickered with something fierce—pain forgotten.
With impossible speed, he dropped into a low stance, one leg sweeping out to kick the assailant off balance.
The man toppled, and Rowan flipped to his feet, snatching up his sword.
His blade flashed in a single, precise arc, disarming the third attacker in one clean motion.
The sword skittered across the stones, and the man stumbled back, clutching his wrist in shock.
I stood rooted to the spot, breath caught in my throat, as Rowan advanced on the first thug—wound bleeding through damp cloth—then sidestepped a wild swing, ducked under the man's guard, and pressed his hilt into the center of the attacker's chest. The man went down without a sound.
Gareth turned at the final shout, dispatching the second attacker with a clean thrust. Silence fell, broken only by Rowan's ragged breathing. He swayed where he stood, eyes glazed with pain.
I snapped out of my daze and rushed forward. With no remorse I slammed him against the wall, gripping the front of his tunic in a bout of rage. "You—! Where the hell have you been?" My voice shook, but whether from anger or relief, I couldn't tell.
Rowan held up his arms in surrender, wincing. "Nice to see you too, Lady Grey. Hey, easy on the wound, would you?" His voice was tired but tinged with amusement, as if he found this entire situation mildly entertaining.
I wasn't in the mood for jokes. "You have a lot of explaining to do, mercenary." My fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, my own breathing felt too loud in my ears.
His smirk faltered, just slightly, before it returned—more guarded this time. "And I told you I don't like being locked up," he said, his tone light but careful. "I had to take care of something."
"Take care of something? You have a gaping wound in your side, enemies hunting you, what on earth did you have to take care of?"
"Relax, relax," he told me.
"Relax? I trusted you! And you disappeared without a trace. I thought they found you, or you sold me out! If you're going to work for me, I don't want you keeping any more secrets."
"That goes for me too, then. You have plenty of secrets, Lady Rosaria."
He stumped me there.
My hand shook as I pressed it to Rowan's wound. "You idiot," I hissed, tears of relief and fury burning in my eyes. "What were you thinking, going back to Averine alone?"
"Would it make you any happier if I told you I found out where they're taking the supplies?" He said, a cheeky smirk on his face, masking the pain.
I froze. "Is that what you've been doing? You reckless bastard."
"I've always found information comes when you take a few risks." He shrugged.
"Your wound is what, a week old? I don't know how you're still standing. You're in no shape to take a few risks."
"I told you, I heal fast. Now was the best time to strike, when they're least expecting it."
"You sound like a soldier." I sighed. "alright. Tell me, what did you find?"
"I'm so close to figuring it out," he says. "I think they're raising an army, that's why they're taking all the supplies from under our noses. And I think... its not just Averine, or our Dukedom... I think it's something much bigger."
He paused, continuing. "They mentioned something about Oaklan. I think that's where they're bringing the supplies."
Oaklan... Oaklan... my mind flipped through. The name sounded familiar. Of course, the cipher! It made sense that Oaklan would be the headquarters of the entire operation. An army... They're raising an army in Oaklan.
I looked at him grimly. I suspected as much. It would only make sense that the headquarters would be Chancellor Veltin's birthplace, one of the top dogs of the Shadow Walkers. He wasn't the head of the entire organization, which encompassed the whole continent, but he probably knew who was.
"I hate to admit it, but... Good work, Rowan," I said slowly. "But I can't have you going AWOL like that."
"There you go again, using fancy words I've never heard before," he said with a playful tone.
I shot him a look, then glanced at Gareth who had been quiet for most of the time.
"Let's get back to the manor. I think we'll be paying a visit to Lord Avon pretty soon.
" He was the lord of Oaklan, with greed as big as his belly.
He wasn't smart enough to be involved with the Shadow Walkers, or lead the organization, but I wouldn't put it past him to accept bribes.
But first... I needed to pay a visit to Clara.