Page 126 of Destiny of a King

“Close enough that your impatience may finally be satisfied tomorrow.”

“My impatience will be satisfied when I actually stand before the High Council.”

Ernach bobbed his head and rode off.

Something else had begun troubling him as well.

The symbols.

He had first noticed them shortly after Seger had mentioned them to him. He spotted one carved into the trunk of a tree alongside the path. He might have dismissed the single marking if he had not recognized it as one of the Morvane symbols the High Council had sent him a message about and requested Wynn’s return to help understand why the symbols were being seen outside Morvane borders. He had spotted several more since then.

Today they appeared with increasing frequency. Some were carved deeply into trees while others were etched into stones along the path, worn enough to suggest they had been there for years. Yet the ones the High Council had discovered were fresh markings, so what did it mean that these were older?

Dravic had asked Ernach about them earlier that morning, but the man claimed to know nothing beyond the possibility that they marked clan territory.

Whose territory was the question.

Dravic spotted another as they rode, this one cut into the broad trunk of an ancient tree.

Adira shifted suddenly in his arms.

He glanced down and saw her staring at it. Was it familiar to her?

Her gaze lingered on the symbol before she looked at him, giving no indication that she recognized anything.

Dravic studied her for a moment. Something about it had caught her attention, though apparently she knew no more about the marking than he did.

His gaze returned to the path. The symbols had been occasional. Today they seemed to be everywhere. Wynn had mentioned the Morvane Clan lived in the deepest, darkest part of Driochmor. This area did not fit such a description, but what was it his grandda had taught him?

Magic is trickery, never forget that.

Were they being tricked? He would tell Seger to take precautions.

They reached Dunvar as daylight began to fade.

Dravic had grown accustomed to expecting the unexpected from villages in Driochmor, but there appeared to be nothing unusual about this one. Modest cottages lined a broad central path. The scent of roasted meat filled the air. Children hurried out of the cold at their mothers’ calls, and men finishing their day’s work paused to watch the approaching troop.

No strange lights floated above the paths. No vines flourished impossibly beneath snow. Nothing emerged from beneath tree roots to take an immediate liking to Adira.

It looked like any small village he might have passed elsewhere in Scotara. Dravic wasn’t sure whether that reassured him or bothered him.

An older man approached as they entered, introducing himself as Bram, headman of the village. If the unexpected arrival of the king unsettled him, he hid it well.

“You and your men are welcome here, King Dravic.”

“We need shelter for one night. We leave at first light.”

“It will be provided,” Bram assured him, his gaze briefly going to Adira before returning to Dravic. “We have a cottage where you and your woman can stay.”

Adira felt his body shift, and she understood his concern now that she could hear what had been said. He wondered how Bram knew Adira was his woman. And with the irritated glare he sent Bram, she was sure the man would hurry to correct himself.

“Word travels quickly in Driochmor, my king.”

Dravic did not hide his annoyance. “So, I’ve been told.”

The man’s smile was cautious. “The cottage is small but warm, and you’ll have privacy.”

Privacy.