Page 81 of Destiny of a King

Fiora suddenly flitted in front of her face, pointing.

Adira did not need to look where, she knew it was the king. She turned and he snapped his hand for her to join him.

She went to him, Fiora following along. She reminded herself not to take his hand when she reached him. She had to wait for him to take her hand, though she wished she could take hold of it whenever she liked. It brought her a strange comfort. One she had never felt before. One she quite favored.

Dravic took her hand and a small smile surfaced, though she quickly extinguished it before anyone saw it.

But Fiora saw and grinned as she flew ahead of the couple as they walked.

“Oh, how the mighty king is about to fall,” —she chuckled— “in love.”

The small clearing behind an abandoned cottage sat in deepening shadow, sheltered from the village by a ring of bare oaks. It was an ideal place to keep a prisoner away from curious eyes and loose tongues.

Dravic spotted it as soon as they closed the distance. The rope that had secured the man to the tree stirred lightly in the evening breeze.

The prisoner was gone.

Percy and Segar were already running toward the two guards on the ground. Blood had matted the one man’s hair where a vicious blow had split the back of his head. A second guard lay several paces away, his fingers still curled around the hilt of the sword he had never managed to draw.

It took only a moment to tell…

“They are alive,” Percy called out.

“Barely,” Seger added.

Dravic’s eyes searched the shadows surrounding the clearing.

Percy glanced at the king. “The wounds are fresh.”

Dravic did not hesitate, he shouted, “Find him!”

The command rang through the trees.

Seger sprang to his feet, summoning his Hunters with a roar. They all scattered in different directions when they saw what happened. The king’s guard did the same, Fiora joining them. Seger rushed off to get a healer and Percy remained with the wounded men, one man beginning to stir.

Adira stood quietly beside the king as he kept focused on the area, searching as if certain the prisoner was near.

Her ears suddenly caught something. Not the gentle whispers that drifted among the trees, or the strange murmurs that had followed her since entering Driochmor.

This was a sharper sound that grew steadily faster and drew disturbingly closer.

She grew anxious, her heart beating faster, and her eyes searching the area with the same intense scrutiny as the king.

Nothing. She saw nothing.

And yet the sound grew louder. Closer.

An overwhelming urgency seized her and before she could think or question… she spun and threw herself against Dravic, pressing herself tightly against him.

Her fright hit him like a punch to his gut and instinctively his arms wrapped around her hugging her tight.

Cadby’s head snapped toward the far corner of the cottage.

A man exploded from behind it, his face streaked with blood, fury twisting every feature.

The dagger left his hand almost the instant he appeared. It spun through the fading light, straight for the king.

Cadby’s sword flashed free. Steel met steel with a sharp crack that echoed through the clearing. The dagger shot sideways, disappearing into the snow.