Chapter Ten
Rhylen
Argus fiddles in camp while Irric turns the skinned rabbits over the fire. “So, what do you think we should do next?” Wyll asks. There’s a spry look of mischievousness on his face.
I pour over a sprawled-out map on a crate. The light of the fire and a small lantern giving me what little light I needed. I practically had the map memorized.
Each burned village, guard encampment, stop along Prince Cailean’s ridiculous coronation tour. His pitiful way of reminding his kingdom there’s change coming. Brutal, unforgiving change.
Ewan looks over my shoulder as I slide my finger along the Coarann Grove. “We should probably head south. Maybe get a little closer to Cahir’s. See what kind of trouble is stirring since our last meeting with the Captain,” Ewan suggests.
I nod. Something was off, I could feel it in my bones. We will need to make another trip to the seer. Her last warning still echoes in my head.
“The prophecy is coming, Rhylen. You need to be ready, be more prepared. The tides are changing, and I fear, if we’re too late, we’ll be forever lost. Find the speaker of trees with the dimmed heart, change it and change the tides. Remember the prophecy, the trees shall whisper.”
“Any chance to see the Captain, I’m up for,” Wyll smiles. Argus scoffs. “What’s the trouble Argus? Think he’ll like you more than me?”
“I have no thoughts regarding the Captain. Are you sure he’ll even be there?” Argus interjects.
“One can only hope, my friend.”
Ewan looks at the two, then back at me. “So, Cahir it is?”
“Aye,” I agree, simply. The small smile of the captain’s woman dances in my head.
∞∞∞
The village peeks through the trees of the Coarann Grove. Argus, Irric, and Wyll ride silently behind me. There’s a buzzing anticipation as we slowly ride into the village. The moon hangs high in the night. We walk through the quiet, sleepy village, looking for the tell-tale sign of the rebellion.
“There,” Ewan whispers. We dip through to the back alley, constantly checking our surroundings for the idiot sheriff who walks these streets. The pub is boisterous when we slip through the doors.
Dark eyes meet my gaze, nodding to me as we find a table. He slides up and greets us. There’s a panic to him, a slight edge that has him nervous. “You okay there, mate?” Wyll asks, cracking the man on his back.
“I need your help, but we can’t talk here.” He looks around, nervously.
“You go on,” Irric nods to me. “We’ll wait here, won’t we, Argus?”
Argus grunts in response. Ewan and I follow the dark-haired man to the back. Once in a room, Ewan explodes.
“Jasper, man. What is it?”
“I need your help. Please, I’m begging.” Jasper wrings his hands together. The large man looks small and unsure of himself. I wasn’t quite sure it was possible for the blacksmith to be thrown off his usual laidback and exuberant self.
“What happened?” I ask, slowly.
Jasper begins to pace. “They took her— them. They took them. I need your help to get them back. Two young women. One’s a healer. They, they mean a lot to this town. To me.” He adds.
“Why would we need a healer?” Ewan asks.
“She’s special, trust me. She has a talent for it. Beyond anything that should be considered normal.” Jasper visibly swallows. “Please, I’m begging you. The Duke is going to sell them. He’s selling them to the crown.”
Hatred wells up inside me. Of course, he’ll sell them. He’ll sell their bodies to important lords and dukes, just so he has the upper hand. We’ll help Jasper and these two women, of course, but everything comes at a price.
“The healer is in love with Captain Cahir,” Jasper blurts before I can answer him. I can’t help the wicked gleam on my face. The pretty woman that haunts my dreams, betrayed by his own family. My heartbeat spikes.
“In love with The Captain, you say?”
“She thinks so, at least. The whole town isn’t so sure of his whole obsession with her. He likes the pretty, dainty things.”
“And he courts her?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. Images of her copper brown locks flash in my head. Jasper nods excitedly as hope appears in his eyes. I look over at Ewan; a wicked smile appears on his face. He nods subtly with a scheming look.
“Where are they?” Ewan asks.
“The dungeon cells right now. Rumor has it, they’ll be moving in a couple days.”
“Think we can slip in and grab them?” Ewan asks me.
I let out a silent sigh. “Too risky, best to wait when they’re on the road. Who’s moving them?”
“Horace and Milo.”
“Ah, old friends,” I smile, darkly.