A pair of Hunters stood near the door of the council building, their attention settling briefly on Kaelan.
Bria felt his body tense beside her, though not with fear, but with assessment.
The same look appeared on the Hunters’ faces. Warriors measuring another warrior.
Then the door opened and the two Hunters immediately stepped aside.
A tall man emerged. Dark hair brushed his shoulders and gray eyes swept across the settlement before settling on Bria and Kaelan.
The reaction was immediate. The tension surrounding the entrance eased, not completely but enough.
The Hunters respected him and the people of Driochmor appeared to trust him. Few men could move comfortably between two worlds that often viewed one another with suspicion. He could be only one man… Dar, husband of Elara.
He stepped forward, his attention shifting first to Bria.
Kaelan stepped closer to his wife, not taking his eyes off the man, and spoke, “I am Kaelan of Northland, and this is my wife, Bria of Willowmere. And you are?”
“Northland,” Dar said, taking note of it. “I am Dar of Venngraith and husband of Elara, granddaughter of Lord Oaken.”
Before another word could be spoken, a familiar voice sounded overhead.
“Finally.” Fiora dropped from the sky and landed directly between them and shook her tiny finger at them. “There you are. What took you so long?” She cringed. “Never mind, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know what you were doing. But you have kept everyone waiting long enough. Now hurry your pace, important matters need to be discussed.” Her wings fluttered impatiently. “Like, why Hunters are wandering all over the settlement.”
Dar’s smile faded, his response surprising. “Aye, so would I.”
The moment Bria stepped through the door, raised voices greeted her.
“This is unacceptable.”
Lord Oaken stood at the far end of the room, his silver hair nearly gleaming in the morning light pouring through the windows.
Across from him stood a broad-shouldered Hunter. Unlike Dar, there was little warmth about the man. Impatience radiated from him.
“We were given orders,” the Hunter argued. “My duty is to carry them out.”
“Your duty,” Lord Oaken said sharply, “is to remember where you stand.”
The Hunter’s jaw tightened, his hand inching toward his sword handle. “I stand where the king sent me.”
The room fell silent.
Kaelan’s hand settled along Bria’s back as they entered. The gesture appeared casual, but Bria knew better. He had already assessed the room and decided he did not like what he saw. He intended to stay close to her, ready to protect her.
Bria’s glance hurried across the room searching for her great-grandmother. She did not stand far from Lord Oaken, and Seren stood beside her. She was safe, for now.
Dar hurried to stand by the woman near the hearth… Elara, his wife.
The Hunter noticed Bria and Kaelan but dismissed them almost immediately and returned his attention to Lord Oaken.
“I was sent by Cadmus, Chieftain of the Venngraith, with orders from King Dravic to locate the Wise woman and escort her to Caerith.”
“Escort?” Marek asked dryly. “That is an interesting way to describe taking someone against their will.”
The Hunter ignored him. “The king impatiently waits her arrival.”
“The king should learn patience,” Lord Oaken said. “And he evidently needs to be reminded that he does not rule Driochmor.”
The Hunter bristled. “The king rules all of Scotara.”
