I shook my head. “That leaves you alone and a target. If we all go, then we will have the escort of all the men who are attending on the way back.” I caught his eye. “Besides, my people are expecting me. What rumors will start when I do not appear?”
Keir stared at me, his jaw working. I could see a small vein pulsing on his neck, but I didn’t drop my gaze. Finally, he took in a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. He released the reins, and turned his horse in the direction of the castle.
“What about them?” Rafe jerked his head back at the pile of dead.
“Leave them to rot.”
The streets remained empty as we rode to the castle. Buildings that had once been friendly and familiar now held deep shadows where danger lurked. My reins grew damp from my sweaty hands, my shoulders tight with every step. Fear gripped me hard.
Rafe rode beside me, with bow and arrow in hand. His horse responded to knees and feet alone, the reins lay knotted in front of Rafe’s saddle. Prest rode in the same manner, but slightly behind us. They both scanned the surroundings constantly, focused on catching the slightest hint of an attack.
Keir rode in front, his swords sheathed, looking outwardly relaxed, but with his head moving from side to side, watching the buildings around us as we passed.
I cleared my throat to ask about the lance again, but Keir gestured for silence without even looking back at me. I bit my lip as my throat went even drier, and fought the urge to hunch in my saddle.
The horses sensed our tension and shifted restlessly under us. But Keir held our pace to a walk. It was only when the castle gates appeared in the distance, ablaze with lights and people, that he urged his horse to a trot. We sped up to follow him the final distance into the main courtyard.
People, both Xyian and Firelander, were clustered about, and palace guards moved forward for our horses. The sun still filled the area with light, causing my dress to glow like a bright flame. I tried to look confident and relaxed, but my stomach cramped as the Xyians around me reacted to the dress.
Keir, Prest and Rafe were still on guard, keeping an eye on the crowd. Keir swung down first, and gave me a concerned look as he helped me dismount, as if he sensed the strain. Rafe and Prest joined us, and they surrounded me as we entered the castle proper.
Othur appeared before us. “Warlord.” He bowed. When his head came up, his eyes sought mine, filled with concern. I risked a small smile. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he continued. “Allow me to show you to the antechamber.” He guided us into the same chamber where I had waited for the submission ceremony. It had only been days ago, but it felt like a lifetime. As we entered, my shoulders relaxed, now that we were out from under prying eyes.
Othur stood in the doorway behind us, and bowed again. “I will inform the King of your arrival. He will join you shortly.”
Keir held up his hand. “We will delay for a few moments. I will send for Xymund when I am ready.”
Keir moved further into the room, threw his cloak over one of the chairs, and started to pace. The light of the fire and the lamps played over his face, making his blue eyes dark and forbidding.
“Who were they?” he asked.
“Not one of us.” Prest answered firmly.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
Prest shrugged. “They missed.”
“He’s right.” Keir continued his prowl. “Had one of my people thrown the lance, you would have been hit.”
“The fletching was Iften’s.” Rafe’s voice was soft.
“Iften’s?” I stared at Keir.
“Full-tipped.” Prest added.
“What does that mean?” I asked, frustrated by the cryptic comments.
Keir sighed. “The tip was whole when the lance was thrown. Lance tips are meant to break when they hit. A scavenged lance wouldn’t be whole.”
“It’s possible that one wouldn’t break.” My argument sounded weak, even in my ears.
“Unlikely,” Prest observed.
“Horses get captured with quivers full.” He shrugged. “But the fletching is Iften’s and he’s not lost a horse that I know of.” Rafe paused, not looking at anyone in particular. “And Iften has been in the city.”
I put my hand over my mouth. “Remn said that Iften met with Xymund alone.” Or had he? I tried to remember what he’d said, but it slipped away from me.
Keir interrupted my thoughts, and I focused on him. “Yet those scum were paid well. That speaks of Xyians.”
