Toth. More likely, however, the dark wizard binds her soul. Perhaps Darik’s blow weakened that binding enough for the Harvester to do his work.”
“Yes, I hope so,” Whelan said, but he looked worried, as did the wizard. “But it didn’t weaken the binding enough for Soultrup to do its work. Still, if Darik hadn’t known what was happening, King Daniel would have joined her.”
And who else would join this gallery of dead kings and queens assembled by the dark wizard? Darik’s thoughts turned east to Balsalom, to the khalifa and Cragyn’s child that grew inside her. A worried look passed over Whelan’s face and Darik knew that his friend had just come to the same conclusion.
Chapter Five
Darik and Whelan left while the rest of the Citadel slept. By all rights, Darik should be sleeping too, but Whelan had other ideas. They rode quietly through the city, avoiding the city guards but taking no care to disguise their exit in any other way. Faces appeared in windows at the sound of hoof beats on the cobbled streets, and two men lurked in the alley between two buildings, but they slipped away before Darik saw who they were. Ethan had vowed to rid the city of Veyrian spies, but until then, Whelan didn’t want to reveal their true direction. And he left Sofiana at the Citadel, to join them later, still concerned about how others perceived the delicate relationship between the girl and her two fathers. Whelan thought it best if they didn’t leave together.
The northern edge of the city turned into well-groomed fields and a maze of farm roads, most of them rutted. Whelan turned them immediately east, toward the mountains, and sent Scree into the air to watch for danger. A light rain fell from the sky; darker clouds to the east promised worse weather. The cloud castles had drifted further south.
“Where are we going?” Darik asked. “I thought we were riding toward the Wylde.”
Whelan didn’t answer, but stood tall in the saddle. Scree plummeted toward them, pulling up at the last moment to land on Whelan’s wrist. The sound of horses came from farther down the road.
“Follow me,” Whelan urged. He turned his horse and jumped the short stone wall on their left and took off across the hillside, scattering a flock of sheep. Darik followed. Scree lit into the air again, circling overhead.
As they crested a short hill, Darik glanced over his shoulder to see a dozen men on the road they’d just left. Impossible to see from here whether they were friendly troops or not. Once over the hill, Whelan slowed down. They picked their way through pastures, continuing east and south.
“I thought I’d trust Scree’s reaction,” Whelan said as the falcon returned to his wrist. “To answer your question, we’re not riding to the Wylde because we’re not gathering the Knights Temperate. I’m leaving that duty to Ethan.”
“That’s not what you told Markal.”
“That’s not what I told him publicly . He knows, as do a few others. But with so many enemies about, not everyone can be trusted. No, we’re going somewhere else.”
“And that would be—?”
“Into the heart of the enemy’s army,” Whelan told him.
Darik’s mouth dropped open. “Just us?”
“Yes, just us. Oh, and Ninny, of course.”
“Of course,” Darik said. “We’d be helpless without a twelve-year-old girl.” He shook his head, spurring his horse to catch up with Whelan who had reached another road and picked up his pace. “And just what are we going to do when we get there?”
“What are we going to do?” Whelan turned back, a bold grin on his face. No, a foolhardy grin, Darik decided, the kind of grin that worried him. “We’re going to kill the dark wizard.”
#
Markal eyed Chantmer across the Thorne Chamber, the room reserved for the most solemn meetings of the Order of the Wounded Hand. It stood atop the Golden Tower, giving a sweeping view of the city and the farmland outside the
“Yes, I hope so,” Whelan said, but he looked worried, as did the wizard. “But it didn’t weaken the binding enough for Soultrup to do its work. Still, if Darik hadn’t known what was happening, King Daniel would have joined her.”
And who else would join this gallery of dead kings and queens assembled by the dark wizard? Darik’s thoughts turned east to Balsalom, to the khalifa and Cragyn’s child that grew inside her. A worried look passed over Whelan’s face and Darik knew that his friend had just come to the same conclusion.
Chapter Five
Darik and Whelan left while the rest of the Citadel slept. By all rights, Darik should be sleeping too, but Whelan had other ideas. They rode quietly through the city, avoiding the city guards but taking no care to disguise their exit in any other way. Faces appeared in windows at the sound of hoof beats on the cobbled streets, and two men lurked in the alley between two buildings, but they slipped away before Darik saw who they were. Ethan had vowed to rid the city of Veyrian spies, but until then, Whelan didn’t want to reveal their true direction. And he left Sofiana at the Citadel, to join them later, still concerned about how others perceived the delicate relationship between the girl and her two fathers. Whelan thought it best if they didn’t leave together.
The northern edge of the city turned into well-groomed fields and a maze of farm roads, most of them rutted. Whelan turned them immediately east, toward the mountains, and sent Scree into the air to watch for danger. A light rain fell from the sky; darker clouds to the east promised worse weather. The cloud castles had drifted further south.
“Where are we going?” Darik asked. “I thought we were riding toward the Wylde.”
Whelan didn’t answer, but stood tall in the saddle. Scree plummeted toward them, pulling up at the last moment to land on Whelan’s wrist. The sound of horses came from farther down the road.
“Follow me,” Whelan urged. He turned his horse and jumped the short stone wall on their left and took off across the hillside, scattering a flock of sheep. Darik followed. Scree lit into the air again, circling overhead.
As they crested a short hill, Darik glanced over his shoulder to see a dozen men on the road they’d just left. Impossible to see from here whether they were friendly troops or not. Once over the hill, Whelan slowed down. They picked their way through pastures, continuing east and south.
“I thought I’d trust Scree’s reaction,” Whelan said as the falcon returned to his wrist. “To answer your question, we’re not riding to the Wylde because we’re not gathering the Knights Temperate. I’m leaving that duty to Ethan.”
“That’s not what you told Markal.”
“That’s not what I told him publicly . He knows, as do a few others. But with so many enemies about, not everyone can be trusted. No, we’re going somewhere else.”
“And that would be—?”
“Into the heart of the enemy’s army,” Whelan told him.
Darik’s mouth dropped open. “Just us?”
“Yes, just us. Oh, and Ninny, of course.”
“Of course,” Darik said. “We’d be helpless without a twelve-year-old girl.” He shook his head, spurring his horse to catch up with Whelan who had reached another road and picked up his pace. “And just what are we going to do when we get there?”
“What are we going to do?” Whelan turned back, a bold grin on his face. No, a foolhardy grin, Darik decided, the kind of grin that worried him. “We’re going to kill the dark wizard.”
#
Markal eyed Chantmer across the Thorne Chamber, the room reserved for the most solemn meetings of the Order of the Wounded Hand. It stood atop the Golden Tower, giving a sweeping view of the city and the farmland outside the
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