Inside,the warmth of the hearth greeted them, casting flickering light over a long wooden table laden with food. The air carried the rich scents of herbs and smoke, mingling with the damp, earthy scent of their travel-worn cloaks.
Alena guided Leywani to a stool. Leukos and Theo reached the table first, taking a plate and filling it with an assortment offood. Despoina followed, plucking a piece of bread and giving it a cautious sniff before deciding it was safe to eat.
Danaos, however, lingered behind, arms crossed, his expression dubious as he surveyed the spread. His gaze landed on a steaming platter of meat smothered in fragrant herbs. “I heard the Westerners eat sheep’s balls.”
Looming beside him, Alcaros tore off a piece of flatbread. “That’s a speciality from the Green Mountains Tribe,” he said, munching. “Properly cooked, they’re delicious. They served them last summer at the feast.”
He winked at Alena, who gave him a faint smile. Across the table, Theo chuckled under his breath while Leukos frowned slightly at the revelation.
Undeterred, Danaos picked up a piece of meat, took a cautious bite, and chewed twice, his expression unreadable.
Alcaros tore off another piece of flatbread, his tone almost too casual. “Those aren’t sheep balls, though.” He paused just long enough for effect. “It’s dog meat. The southern tribes consider it a delicacy.”
Danaos froze. Then disgust flashed across his face, and he spat the half-chewed morsel into his hand.
Alcaros’ smirk widened. “Stick to the chicken.” Still grinning, he pulled a small vial from his belt and pressed it into Alena’s hand. “For your friend.”
His gaze flicked to Leywani, offering a brief nod. She met it with a scowl.
With a rough exhale, he dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ll check on the Rasennan,” he muttered, boots thudding against the earthen floor as he strode out, leaving Danaos cursing under his breath.
Alena arched an eyebrow at Leywani while pouring her some water and taking the plate of food from Leukos. Leywani onlylifted a shoulder in mock indifference before diving into the warm broth.
At the table, Danaos tipped back a cup of wine before turning to his twin, who was helping herself to cheese. “Time to go.” Then, to Leukos, he added, “We’ll return in the morning with the last group of soldiers. After that, we’re heading back to Tiryns.”
Theo, leaning back in his chair, frowned. “Tomorrow morning, please stay for the war council. It’d be good for Volcos and his men to know your faces, in case things go south for us on the battlefield.”
An awkward pause followed. Alena heard what he wasn’t saying loud and clear. If they died in the upcoming battle, it would be up to Danaos and Charis to continue the alliance—and the fight.
Danaos met his sister’s gaze, something unspoken passing between them before he nodded. “We will. Charis should know exactly what our soldiers are fighting for.”
Leukos inclined his head in acknowledgement. With that, Danaos and Despoina turned and strode out into the night.
For a brief while, all four of them sat around the table, eating in silence. As she ate, Alena locked eyes with Leukos. Damp strands of black hair clung to his forehead, shadows accentuating the exhaustion carved into his features. Yet his gaze remained steady, and after a beat he tipped his chin towards Leywani—a wordless reminder to deal with one problem at a time.
Once Leywani finished, Alena set the language potion on the table.
Her friend stared at the vial and scowled. “Oh, they have this foul drink here, too?”
Alena blinked. “You’ve had it before? Who gave it to you?”
Leywani’s expression darkened. “Katell’s commander. Dalmatius.”
The answer struck Alena speechless, her thoughts scattering. Across the table, Leukos’ head lifted from his plate. Though Leywani had spoken in the Freefolk tongue, they’d all heard the nameDalmatius.
Unaware of the sudden tension, Leywani uncorked the vial and downed its contents in one swift motion.
Theo pushed his plate aside and leaned in, his voice even but laced with urgency. Switching to the Western tongue, which Leywani could now understand, he said, “Tell us everything you remember.”
Something flickered across Leywani’s face—grief, fear, shame, all tangled together. She pulled the cloak close, almost shrinking into it. Her lips parted, then closed again. At last, her voice emerged, a fragile whisper.
“Kat came to Dodona.”
Alena’s breath hitched.
“She saw what had happened to us—saw us enslaved.” Leywani’s voice hardened. “She was furious. The Rasennans, her commander… they betrayed her trust. She had told them about the Freefolk, but she had no idea what they’d done to us.”
Leukos, quiet until now, spoke up. “And when she found out?”
