Orval stood quietly as a storm of protest erupted from everyone, including the babes. Between crying infants and upset people, it was loud. He hoped no one outside could hear; the stone walls of the gatehouse should have muffled the sound.
“No,” Amari said, glaring at Orval. She settled on a stool and put Lara to her breast.
“Not just no,” Roth growled, arms crossed over his chest. “Hells, no. You are not going out there, and especially not alone. Are you mad? You just cautioned patience.”
Rosalind was trying to comfort Dalan, who was shrieking furiously.
“I swear this boy’s voice can pierce castle walls,” Orval shook his head as he limped over and took the babe from Rosalind. “Hush, my boy,” he crooned, offering his own glare at the others.
Amari shut her mouth into a thin, angry line.
Roth at least lowered his voice. “Your wits are gone with the winds.”
Rosalind went to check Xydell, sleeping on a pallet near the hearth and showing no signs of rousing at the noise.
Yfin stared, wide-eyed, at all of them.
“I have perfectly sound reasons for doing this,” Orval said, prepared to review all of his logic.
“All of them stupid,” Roth responded.
“They might yet come to us,” Amari insisted, desperation in her voice, but it was the fear in her eyes that hit him hard. “They might knock on the door tomorrow morning. There is no need to risk yourself.”
“Amari,” Orval rocked Dalan, stroking his cheek to get him to quiet, “remember our contract. Above all else is the safety of our children. Roth and Yfin can protect you, and I won’t risk you or Rosalind.”
Dalan grew quiet but alert, eyes shining as if he was listening. “If things were different, I might set Xydell on them, like a mastiff after a bone.” Orval gave Amari a smile.
It was not returned. She was fierce and angry, but he could see resignation creeping into her eyes. “I—” she started, then stopped.
“I am the Lord High Baron. I am the best choice. The only choice,” Orval said.
“And I am your protector.” Roth said flatly as he moved to block the door, his arms crossed. “I can’t allow you to do this. Unless you let me go with you, I will keep you in here until you regain your wits.”
“Roth,” Orval said, “I have to do this. Our position is not defensible, we are running out of food and firewood, and—”
“You are the last of the Blood, Orval of Xy,” Roth’s voice cracked. “You and Xydell, The last of the House of Airion.”
“Roth,” Orval said, exasperated, “you give me no choice. I command—”
“No,” Rosalind said, startling all of them. “Tell him the truth, Lord High Baron.”
Orval froze, jerking his head around to stare at her.
“Tell us all the truth of who we are protecting.” Rosalind stood tall and straight, one of the tapestries spilling from her hands to lay on the floor.
Orval glanced at Amari, lifting his eyebrow.Did you tell her?
Amari gave a slight shake of her head.No.
Roth caught the exchange. “Tell us what?”
Orval turned to Rosalind. “What do you think you know?”
“Gossip,” Rosalind said, “from the Court. Dates. The babes themselves.” She gestured at Dalan. “Tell him.”
Orval drew in a slow breath and looked again to Amari, who nodded.
Roth waited, watching them both.
