Page 51 of Destiny of a King

“I know it,” one replied.

“That’s a bold claim,” Dravic said.

“Only because history has a habit of favoring the victors.”

“And what makes you certain your version is the truth?” Dravic asked.

The old man studied Dravic a long moment. “Because I heard it from a man who lived through it.”

“Many lived through the Great War,” Dravic challenged.

“Not like this man. We speak often about it.”

“And who is this man and what makes him different?” Dravic asked, more than curious.

“His name is Ernach and he was King Halric’s Master of Arms.”

Dravic knew the name well. His grandfather had him hunted and killed for being a traitor.

Chapter Thirteen

Unexpected Consequences

Skellie’s Inn

Dravic closed the door behind them, the simple latch falling into place. He dropped his cloak on the chair as he crossed the room to the lone window. Pulling the curtain aside, he scanned the village before giving thought to his warriors. They had to be searching for him, but how long would it be before they found him, and how long before his identity was discovered?

Adira settled on the edge of the bed, watching him stare out into the night. After a few moments, he let the curtain drop back into place, went to the hearth and began to pace in front of it.

“It makes no sense,” he muttered. “My grandfather had Ernach hunted down and killed.”

Dravic stopped pacing and stared down at the floor, then resumed pacing.

“Yet those men spoke of him as though they had shared a drink with him yesterday.”

Adira’s eyes followed him. His long strides would quicken then slow and then he would stop, then pace some more. Whatever the two old men in the common room had told him had stolen his peace.

She wished she understood. She wished she could offer comfort and help restore a modicum of peace, though she doubted he had much of that. She had come to realize that a king enjoyed only random moments of peace, and even those were far and few between.

She continued to watch him, having learned long ago that watching a person’s face was almost like hearing him speak. His brow remained drawn, his jaw tight, his hands opening and closing as though trying to grasp an answer that refused to come.

“Could it be Ernach or someone pretending to be him? A good tale could earn a man more than a drink or two,” Dravic said, and stopped pacing. He pressed his hand to the back of his neck. “My grandfather never lied to me. Or did he?”

He started pacing again, his expression still filled with questions.

Adira always sat and listened to the king. It was her task. It was what he expected of her. But for some reason she felt restless herself and she needed to step away from him. She stood and waited to see if he would turn to her, but he didn’t. He was far too busy talking and pacing.

She went to the window and pushed the curtain aside. Soft torch lights lit a path through the village, and she smiled, seeing the snow resting lightly upon the tree branches, glistening in the light. Beyond the village lay the wider forest.

Her home.

She always thought of the forest as her home. There were times when she was in the forest that she thought she heard it speak to her. If she watched a bird long enough, the rippling of a stream, or a single leaf swaying in the breeze, she could have sworn they whispered to her.

She closed her eyes just for a moment and imagined walking in the forest beneath the ancient boughs.

Feena’s face suddenly interrupted the image. It had taken repeated warnings for Adira to understand there were places she did not go, boundaries she did not cross. Feena had taught her to identify the boundaries by trees and plants. If she saw certain ones, she was to stay away from them. It was not a safe place to go.

Yet she never felt threatened anywhere in the forest, not even the areas Feena cautioned her against.