The thought made Syla rock back with a realization, and she looked toward poor Venia’s body. Earlier, she hadn’t seriously been thinking that her sister—hermarriedsister—had come down here for a tryst, but maybe that was exactly what had happened. Somewhere along the way, she’d met that beautiful warrior, and he’d wooed her, maybe talked her into meeting in secret in these tunnels for sex. Would the intelligent thirty-three-year-old Venia havefallenfor something like that?
Syla shook her head, having a hard time believing that her sister would have done anything to betray their people. Her marriage to the much older Lord Telenfar had been arranged, and there hadn’t been a child yet, so it was possible a young and handsome suitor might have tempted Venia, but… there was no way Venia would have led a lover—ledanyone—to the shielder. She wouldn’t have betrayed the kingdom for lust—or anything else. It was a foolish hypothesis.
“Sergeant?” Vorik prompted into the silence.
“I won’t attack you tonight unless you attack me,” Fel finally said, “but if you touch Princess Syla, I, as her bodyguard, will becompelledto come to her rescue.”
“I can’t touch her at all? What if she trips and falls?”
“Iwill catch her.”
“I see. Very well.” Vorik stepped back, releasing Fel.
Fel flexed his shoulders and shook out his arms as he turned. He didn’t put his full weight on the knee Vorik had kicked, but he did walk toward Syla without limping.
She stepped toward him, lifting his mace to offer to him, though she expected Vorik to stop her, to want Fel to remain unarmed. Vorik watched them but didn’t object as Fel clasped the handle of his weapon.
“This way.” Vorik tilted his head and walked into the tunnel.
Syla had no intention of going anywhere with him, no matter whatexplanationhe offered, but there was only one way out of the chamber.
With Fel at her side, they walked out after Vorik. At the tunnel entrance, Syla paused to take one last look at the shielder so she could etch the details in her mind and better relay them to her aunt. As she did, she noticed the fallen warrior that Vorik had battled. He lay on the lid of the sarcophagus where he’d dropped. It occurred to her that someone ought to put that lid back on, that leaving the tomb open was a disservice to the dead. But would she ask the injured Fel? Or Vorik? It would involve shoving the dead stormer aside, so she hesitated, but something told her to put that lid back on, that nothing good would come from leaving a tomb disturbed.
“This way, Your Highness.” Vorik had paused a few steps ahead. “I’m eager to give you the explanation for my behavior so that I may gain a modicum of trust from you.”
“This should be good,” Fel muttered darkly.
He hadn’t paused to look back and didn’t appear concerned about the open sarcophagus. He walked with determination after Vorik, doing his best to mask his injuries.
With Fel in need of healing, Syla didn’t want to linger. She would have to return later to retrieve her sister’s body, and she could tend to the sarcophagus then.
“Your Highness?” Vorik prompted.
He watched Syla intently, waiting for her to join them.
“I’m coming,” she said.
“Excellent,” Vorik said.
Syla was certain it wasn’t.
8
“You’ve heardof the Freeborn Faction?” Vorik asked, not hesitating to launch into the explanation he had promised to Princess Syla as they walked painstakingly slowly through the tunnels under the gardener castle, her injured bodyguard ensuring they couldn’t assume the brisk pace that Vorik wanted. Through his link with Agrevlari, he’d learned that, with the dragons gone and wyverns no longer feasting in the castle above, the local military had regrouped and marched in to look for survivors. Some of them had to know about the tunnels and would descend into them to search for any of his people who lingered.
“I haven’t. I’ve read widely enough to be aware of some of your history, but if that’s something that’s developed more recently, I’ve been busy at Moon Watch Temple.” A pained wince crossed Syla’s face. “I am—was—a healer there.”
That temple must have been destroyed. A number of them had been. Vorik hadn’t been responsible, but the dragons, always prone to the predatory savagery inherent in them, hadn’t been as pinpoint in their attacks as the riders themselves.
Vorik looked at the bodyguard, suspecting him more worldly.
It made his shoulder blades itch to have the armed and vengeful man walking behind him, but he would have to show some trust to them if he had any hope of doing as his brother wished and earning the trust of the princess.
They were, of course, as suspicious as Vorik had expected. He didn’t blame them and couldn’t help but think the general had given him an impossible task. When he’d tried a slight smile on the princess, aware that she had suffered great loss and wouldn’t be in the mood forflirting, she’d drawn back in what he guessed was stunned horror. After so many generations drifting apart, the gardeners and stormers had many cultural differences, but he suspectedstunned horrorlooked likestunned horroracross all human civilizations.
When Fel, who was probably distracted by his pain, finally noticed Vorik looking in inquiry, all he did was grunt. Whether that meantyes, he’d heard of the faction, orno, Vorik couldn’t tell.
“Ah, I’ll explain briefly. As you’re aware, if you’ve studied history, Your Highness, the stormers never started out as a large cohesive unit. We come from people who were exiled or voluntarily left the protected Garden Kingdom islands in fits and spurts over the centuries. Those who went solo into the dangerous world didn’t live long, so many banded together in small tribes, but my ancestors wanted freedom, not to suffer the rule of a king, so nobody sought to set up a central government. But now… Well, since you’ve been sheltered, you may not be aware that the number of scaled predators and other creatures capable of devouring humans whole has increased as the climate around the world has grown harsher, with storms, droughts, and even volcanic eruptions more frequent. We’ve always had to be careful to survive out there—there’s a reason we call people we trustsky watchersand warn each other towatch the skywhen they depart—but it’s gotten harder to survive in recent years. There have been precious few edible things to forage on the mainlands and lesssheltered islands, and the skies are more full of predators than prey.”
