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Elara’s own mount was housed in one of the newer stables, and therefore safe, but knowing as much did not make the loss any easier.

“Some are saying three, others five. Either way, ’tis too many. Do you believe as I do?”

“That the fire was intentionally lit?”

Stirling was calling for the recruits to return to the castle, but none seemed to be listening. Elara searched for Alden, but did not see him.

“My father says your body knows before your mind, that it has a longer recollection. Listening to it can often be beneficial,” Elara said. She stopped looking for Alden and gave her attention back to Gareth, who appeared confused.

“Apologies,” she said. “It was my way of saying, though I’ve no evidence for it, that aye, I believe ’tis very possible something is amiss.”

“If that is so . . .” Gareth lowered his voice. “Our traitor is becoming more brazen. If this was to distract or sabotage us, I cannot guess.”

“Why then”—it was the question she could not answer—“have we not already been exposed? It would seem an easy enough task and one which would make such subterfuge unnecessary.”

Gareth shook his head as the man Elara had been looking for came toward them.

It mattered little they were surrounded by chaos. Elara’s heart leapt at the sight of him—her desire to touch him, hold him, was strong.

He looked her up and down, as if assuring himself she was safe.

“Where are the others?” he asked Gareth, but not taking his eyes from her.

“Roland brought the women safely away from the keep, though I know not where. I have not seen Darien since the fire began. Did he come out with you?”

“He did not.”

Darien stepped into their circle from behind her.

“Alden has been spending more and more time . . . in the inner courtyard garden. I presume that’s where you were this eve?”

There was little to smile about this night, but the seriousness of Darien’s expression as he asked the question did lighten the moment.

“Precisely, I was in the courtyard,” Alden said, his voice gruff and his cream linen shirt nearly black with soot. He’d obviously been close to the fire. Too close, to her thinking, if he was covered so completely. Smears of black on his face made him even more fearsome looking than usual.

“We are all safe,” Gareth said. “’Tis what matters most. Alden, could you escort Lady Elara back to the keep? Darien, help me urge the men back inside? The fire is contained; watches have been stationed to ensure it remains so.”

“Of course,” Darien said.

Elara hesitated.

“There is naught to do here, my lady. I will inspect the site myself,” Gareth said, his meaning clear.

“Come with me?” Alden nodded toward the keep, and Elara took the opportunity Gareth had given them. Under the guise of Alden returning her to safety, the two walked away from the stables, which Elara could see from a distance for the first time.

“It is collapsed,” she said. “And could have been so much worse.”

The stable hands. If the fire had spread. Already they had lost beautiful animals, ones who served their masters, the recruits, well. Most had come to Blackwood with their prized warhorses, valuable beyond measure and, to most knights, extensions of themselves.

“If it was set intentionally, there will be signs.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why do such a thing and not simply expose us instead?”

“I do not know.” Alden looked around them. “But we should not speak of it here.”

“No,” she agreed. “We should not.”

They walked silently toward the keep, but Alden stopped when he arrived. “I would find the others, ensure their safety.”