Ronan’s mouth tightened. I inclined my head a fraction and sheathed my sword. “Rise, Thresher. I have need of you.”
He stood in one smooth motion, sliding his knives away, his attention lingering on my chest. I rolled my shoulders, drawing the fabric closed, hiding the gleam of gold once more.
“We should speak where fewer ears listen.” He waited for my nod. “There is an inn where privacy may be had.”
“We have much to discuss. Lead on.”
He pulled his hood back up and moved toward the main road.
“Quite the greeting from your own men,” Ronan muttered.
“I would expect nothing less.”
Threshers answered only to the mantle or their god. If these were Tallon’s Black Guard, then I had little to fear. Nyryn cared for his own.
Ronan took the rear as we trailed the man into the flow of untroubled citizens. To them we were strangers, though the Thresher earned wary looks. Their presence in Reem steadied me. They lived in shadow until summoned, dark ink etched into skin as covenant and oath. To the common folk, they appeared strange. Broad shoulders. Blades carried with intent. He moved through the crowd like a panther among mice.
We kept our hoods low, drawing curious looks as we followed in his wake. Before long he veered through winding passages, walls closing in until the space pressed tight, a reminder of the narrow roads of Draconia. He paused at a door and opened it without hesitation, slipping inside.
Trust in his title did not dull my caution. I clocked the bins of refuse, scraps of food, chamber pots filled and waiting. The back entrance to an inn. Ronan cast me a wary glance before following. We squeezed past stacked crates and into a darkened room. I squinted, fingers tightening on my sword when the Dragon Rider chose that moment to reveal his magic. Flame bloomed above his palm with a hushed whisper.
The unnatural light caught the Thresher mid-motion, lantern unlit, flint in hand. His eyes glittered in the flicker as he pocketed the stone and lifted the iron lamp. With a smirk, Draconia’s prince obliged. A spark leapt from his hovering flame, kissed the exposed wick, and settled there, flaring to life.
The Thresher glanced at me, weighing my tolerance for such light. In answer, I took the small table’s chair.
Light was light, regardless of its source.
Ronan closed his fist, snuffing the flame, and Nyryn’s man turned the lamp higher, revealing crates and barrels lining the walls. A storage room, one I hoped the staff rarely visited.
“We will not be interrupted,” he said, taking the last seat.
Ronan scoffed and shut the door, leaning back against it.
“What is your name?” I asked, drawing my hood down as I leaned forward.
He mirrored the motion, revealing closely cropped hair and dark eyes. “Claus of Nyryn.” A brief bow followed. “We Threshers are scattered among the Black Guard, searching for you.”
“So, Tallon has seeded his own loyalists within your ranks,” I said, watching for his agreement. “What happens when they find me?”
“They have orders to contain you and return you to Reem.” His jaw tightened. “Our numbers are dwarfed, and the prince uses that advantage to keep the Threshers in check.”
“Foolish,” I muttered.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Our priests commanded us to work alongside them to locate the true king. Once found, we are not to bind him.”
“And what did they command youdowith the King of Radaan?”
“Protect him.” Claus remained perfectly still, voice stripped of inflection. “We were to find you and aid you in reclaiming your kingdom.”
I leaned back, holding the relief tight in my chest. Expected, yet no less steadying. Tallon believed he controlled these warriors. He did not. They answered to their god and their priests, not a false mantle.
“What is the state of Reem?” I asked. “And how did Darius die?”
Claus’ shoulders drew in a fraction. A shadow crossed his face, dark and promising violence.
Darius had been my war general. Radaan’s shield. My friend. Chosen of Nyryn, able to command the Threshers with a single word. Nearly twenty years had passed since I stood beside him amid the ruins of a Craggs village, his wife’s body crushed beneath stone. I had watched a man’s soul cry out for vengeance and felt Nyryn answer.
Elohios answered my plea with light.
