Page 34 of Highland Lords of War & Thunder: The Prequel

Creagan's amusement faded, though his relaxed posture didn't change. “I've heard mumblings here and there.”

“It's more than mumblings now,” Tate said.

Fay handed Creagan his ale before settling back in her chair. “There are those claiming Queen Eudora has no rightful claim to the throne.”

Creagan's brow creased. He'd heard vague remarks during his travels through Morra Mist, whispers that stopped when a stranger drew too near and complaints about the queen from men who had consumed enough ale to loosen their tongues. He'd paid them little mind. There were always those dissatisfied with whoever wore the crown.

“How many?” Creagan asked.

“Enough that people are beginning to listen,” Tate said.

That troubled Creagan more than the rumors themselves.

“Anyone saying who should be sitting on the throne instead?”

Tate shook his head. “Not that I've heard.”

“Then someone is stirring a pot without telling anyone what he intends to cook.”

Fay frowned. “You would put it that way.”

Creagan took a long drink.

He traveled Morra Mist more than most. From its prosperous villages and crowded ports to isolated farms like Tate's, there were few parts of the kingdom he hadn't visited over the years. He knew its people, shared their tables, slept beneath their roofs, listened to their troubles, and celebrated their good fortune.

Morra Mist was the only place he'd ever truly thought of as home. He simply hadn't chosen one small piece of it for himself. And if he was already hearing mumblings against the queen in his travels, Creagan suspected there was more to them than idle talk.

He found himself listening for something else.

A summons, he suspected would come.

He took another drink of ale.

The only question was… when?

Chapter Eleven

Creagan

“You can't leave!”

Peter and Jennie stared at Creagan as if he'd just announced he intended to abandon them forever.

“I have to.”

“But you just got here,” Peter argued.

“Please, Creagan,” Jennie begged, grabbing his hand with both of her small ones. “Please. Please.”

Creagan crouched in front of them. “I'll stay extra-long next time. Long enough that you'll be begging me to leave.”

“Nay,” Jennie insisted.

Peter shook his head just as firmly. “Never.”

Creagan smiled, though leaving them was proving harder than he'd expected.

Fay caught Tate's eye and gave a slight nod toward the door.