“Better than dying a prisoner,” she replied. Even in the quiet darkness she did not hesitate; her resolve came through clearly without Taegan needing to see her face. She was going to try no matter what, it seemed, so he might as well try and help. Her succeeding alone seemed unlikely, but maybe together they would have a decent chance of living to see beyond their prison once again.
“Let’s do it, then,” he murmured, and he could practically hear her grin from across the hallway. Nervously he glanced toward the left where the stairs were again, though nothing had changed since the last time he’d looked toward them. “When? Today?”
“I try today, but just if… good time,” she answered, clearly struggling for words. “If good, yes. If bad, wait.”
“Should I try and distract him? While he’s opening your cell, maybe? I could try and yell or something, so he turns away from you.”
“No, no,” she said. “I don’t think so. I think just wait. Too loud, scare other guard. One at a time.”
“Just wait,” Taegan repeated, and sighed. “Alright, then. Gods, I hope this works.”
5
Zorvut
The path through the orcish territories toward Drol Kuggradh was the loneliest Zorvut could ever remember traveling. Though he had purposely chosen a route that meandered through the rocky foothills to avoid as many villages and camping grounds as possible, the lack of any sign of civilization still somehow took him by surprise. He hardly even saw any travelers on the road—that was just as well, though, as the two groups he did encounter after the first had met the same fate.
They all recognized him easily, but none could match him in battle. With the second group, he spared one more, giving her the same command to alert the warlord of his arrival before sending her off. With the third, all three were soldiers so he lit his sword aflame to fight, and that meant all three had to die. The less Hrul Bonebreaker knew of his newfound ability, the better chance he had of surviving their inevitable encounter, he told himself, though part of him still held some small hope that mercy might win out in the end.
Other than those three groups of scouts and soldiers, he did not see another soul in his travels. Once, he saw what he thought might be a lone hunter on horseback in the distance, but it turned out to simply be an exceptionally large elk. Normally he would not mind the solitude, but now, it felt maddening.
He had been on the road for just over a week and estimated he’d more than passed the halfway point now when he heard the sound of hooves approaching—but when he stopped to listen, they were coming from behind him, not ahead. The sound was too light, too rapid to be one of the larger warhorses the orcs rode. His heart sank as he turned to look behind, and sure enough, a helmeted elf was riding up the road toward him atop a slender, speckled gray horse. That couldn’t be a good sign.
Zorvut stopped and waited for the elf to approach. When the figure pulled off his helmet, Zorvut recognized him—a captain by the name of Kyrenic, who had been the first to arrive when King Ruven had first summoned the closest captains and generals to him. They had a friendly rapport and Zorvut liked him well enough, but if he was seeing him now then something must have gone wrong. The elf’s mouth was pressed in a hard, grim line as he approached.
“Zorvut,” the elf called, pulling back on his reins so his horse slowed to a trot next to him. “I bring news.”
“Kyrenic,” Zorvut replied as politely as he could manage. “Tell me.”
“The orcs have moved on the castle, truly this time,” the elf said with a sigh, looking out to the horizon ahead to avoid meeting Zorvut’s gaze. “They estimate close to a thousand, and several villages have already been evacuated. The King has called back half the forces marching with us, to help prevent a siege.”
Zorvut scowled, looking away as well. Though it was not entirely surprising, his chest burned with frustrated disappointment anyway.
“I see,” he replied slowly, unable to find any other words.
“I don’t know if our original plan will hold up as well with a smaller force,” the elf continued after a beat of silence. “I’ve come to ask if you want to proceed as planned, or try and adjust somehow.”
Zorvut appreciated his candor if nothing else. There was no way to beat around the bush—half their forces pulled away meant their plan depended that much more on him and him alone. If he failed, his safety net was now only half of what it would have been.
But what else could he do? He had come this far. Turning back now, leaving Taegan behind—he may as well fall upon his own sword then and there. Every nerve in his body ached to be reunited with his husband, his bonded mate. He couldn’t turn back now even if he had wanted to.
“Thank you for alerting me,” he said slowly, meeting the elf’s gaze. Despite Kyrenic’s stern demeanor and grim expression, he recognized a look of concern in his eyes. “This will make our job more difficult, but I can’t turn back now. I’m going to continue as planned. If anything, this will allow for us to travel a bit faster.” He paused, considering. “Tell whoever’s left that if they value protecting their home more than following me, they have my blessing. I’ll make do with whoever remains, but if the castle is truly in danger, I can’t ask them to come with me.”
The elf tilted his head as he looked up at Zorvut, as if surprised by his answer, though his expression did not change. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally answering, “I’ll pass the message along. I promise you my sword, if nothing else, though I’m sure more than a few will still want to do what they can for the prince. You won’t go alone.”
“Thank you,” Zorvut replied faintly, nodding once. “Have you already sent back the half the king asked for?”
“Not yet, but General Daphine and I were going to decide how to split the group tonight and send them off come morning. We’ve just received the missive, no more than an hour ago now. I’ll have to ask how she will want to proceed once I get back,” Kyrenic said, glancing back down the road as he spoke.
“Don’t let me keep you, then,” Zorvut said, gesturing. The elf hesitated, then nodded.
“I’ll come find you if anything else changes, but it’s best if we still keep our distance,” he said, and Zorvut nodded in agreement. “Otherwise, we’ll see you at Drol Kuggradh.”
“Yes,” he agreed, but Kyrenic was already pulling his helmet back on and nudging his horse, trotting back down the way he came before breaking into a gallop. Zorvut watched him leave until he could no longer make out the shape of the elf atop the horse in the distance, then finally turned away and set forth once more with a long sigh.
Beneath him Graksh’t grumbled, sensing the sudden downturn in his mood. He patted the horse’s neck absentmindedly, but he was more than occupied with his own thoughts. While it was not the worst news he could have received, it was certainly not good news. He wondered if Hrul had always planned to move on the capital, or if it was a direct response to his forewarned arrival. Not that it mattered—it would be a thorn in his side regardless. All he could do was trust King Ruven and the other elves to hold fast until he made it to Drol Kuggradh and, hopefully, put an end to everything.
Much of the plan had relied on him before, but now it rested that much more fully on his shoulders. If he could not subdue the warlord, he could no longer fall back on the force of elves to take the city by surprise.
