“Those horses understand more than we credit them,” Nero said
“We’ve have to keep moving,” Nero said, offering River water.
River blinked. “But where?”
“Morven’s estate. There’ll be food, beds… people to help,” Casteel told him.
“And the bad men won’t find us there?” River’s voice shook.
Nero and Casteel exchanged a glance. Even the safest walls were just walls in a civil war, but they needed somewhere to regroup. “We’ve got you,” Nero promised, resting a hand on River’s shoulder. “Both of us.”
They broke camp quickly, snuffing fires and hiding footprints. Nero led, ears perked for trouble. Casteel walked with River, helping him over logs and across brooks until Nero finally swung the boy onto his shoulders. River crowed with delight, and Casteel didn't blame him.
The forest thinned, pines giving way to mixed woods, then fields of neat vineyards and orchards. “It’s… like an entire village,” River whispered, staring at the stone manor and the tidy rows of grapes. The other smaller houses all dotted about.
“Well-defended,” Nero added. Watchtowers dotted the walls, guards pacing with spears ready.
“Peaceful?” Casteel asked.
Nero’s expression darkened. “Not anymore.”
They knew they'd been seen, when the gates opened and four horses galloped out.
Nero relaxed recognizing two of them.
A voice rang out from the lead one. “Well, well—if it isn’t the Silver Wolf.”
They looked up to see Eryken, his lined face splitting into relief. Behind him rode Lucan and armed men in Morven’s colors.
“You made it,” Eryken called pulling his horse to a halt. Nero shook Eryken's hand as he jumped down. In another minute more riders caught them up with spare horses and they were saved a walk to the gate.
Nero set River down when they got into the courtyard but stood in front of him and Casteel. The captain of the guard, a grizzled veteran, approached.
“Lord Morven’s been expecting you,” he said, eyeing their travel-worn clothes and lingering on River. “The meeting’s started.”
“How many nobles showed?” Nero asked.
“Five houses so far,” Eryken said as they all dismounted and handed off the horses to the grooms. “More trickle in each day. Doran’s latest horrors are spreading fear faster than wildfire.”
Casteel felt a chill. “What did he do now?”
Lucan’s jaw tightened. “Three villages burned. Martial law across the east.”
River pressed against Nero, tiny hand gripping his. Casteel felt Nero’s fury—and his determination to shield this child from any more pain.
"Lord Morven waits in the great hall," the captain informed them. "But perhaps you'd prefer to refresh yourselves first?"
"The boy needs food and a bath," Nero said firmly. "And clean clothes."
"Of course." The captain gestured to a waiting servant. "Martha will see to the child's needs."
River shrank back against Nero, his eyes wide with fear. "No," he whispered.
Nero knelt to the boy's level, his voice gentle. "You're safe, River. But we need to speak with Lord Morven about the battle." He looked up at the servant. "Martha, is it?"
The woman nodded, her motherly face softening as she observed the frightened child. "Yes, sir."
"Martha will take you to the kitchens first," Nero continued, still addressing River. "There will be warm bread and honey, perhaps even sweet cakes. Then a hot bath and clean clothes. I promise we'll come find you as soon as our meeting is done." He scratched his chin. "I could do with a bath myself."
