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For a time, Gaius said nothing. When his eyes reopened, they bore a deep sorrow, darker and heavier than the illusion she'd spun over their color. “I tried to make my peace with what he wanted me to do. Tell myself it was for the best. That I'd sworn to serve him and I would do so until the end. I couldn't. By the time I refused to lift a blade in his name again, I'd already shed far too much innocent blood.”
Thea ran her hand up and down his bicep. She didn't know what to say. What would comfort him? She had nothing to offer but the story of her own loss to the same king's illness, and that was hardly a story that would make anyone feel better. Yet there was little else to say, except the simple words that left her mouth. “I understand.”
And she did, at least on the surface. It made perfect sense that Lucan would fear him. That a man with the power to strike a king dead would refuse to obey was terrifying. She saw how it could drive him to the brink. And she understood the quandary Gaius had been left with, though she lacked the fortitude to think of the things he must have done. He'd been forged into a weapon; all he knew was how to cut.
To rise and refuse to cut anymore must have been far harder than anything else he'd done.
Rilion scratched the back of his head and sighed, long and deep. “To an extent, Lucan probably had reason to fear. I had hoped Aleron's death was the end of it, that Gaius wouldn't be a target. We can all see that wasn't the case. I don't mean to excuse Lucan's paranoia, but an assassin came for Gaius, too. We still don't even know why.”
Thea's eyes snapped to his face. “You don't?”
Gaius nodded, resigned. “We've never turned up even so much as a clue. For all that I've searched since Calem's death, I've found nothing. No motives. No demands. Only more uncertainty. My father was old when he passed. He settled late in life. We all expected it, and Calem was ready to take the throne. For a long time, I believed his death was by natural causes. Now, I am no longer sure. It's only an assumption, but I have reason to suspect he was poisoned as well. All with no traces left behind, just as it was with Calem.”
“But we're close,” Rilion said. “I have a good feeling about this lead. We're going to find answers soon.”
“Perhaps.” Gaius took Thea's hand in his and pulled it to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles. “But I have been sullen long enough. A king should not be given to sulking or self-pity, and I have indulged in both enough tonight. We should rest while we are able. Tomorrow, we'll find answers.”
Answers, or yet another mystery.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
By mid-morning,they rode toward the massive gate on the east end of the fortress. The steep valley around them housed more animals than Thea first realized, along with shepherds and goatherds. The people in the fields paid them no mind.
The gate was closed. A handful of guards stood outside, their faces painted with varying levels of boredom, though mild interest shaded their eyes as the three of them grew near.
“Haven't had many folk come a-horseback,” one guard called. His accent was definitely Kentorian. “Who're you?”
“We heard there was work here,” Gaius replied. It wasn't what the guard asked, but the man didn't seem to mind.
“For the right people, yes,” the guard said. “What can you do?”
Gaius gestured to Thea first. “My wife is a seamstress. My brother is a scribe. I... well, I can do whatever may need strong hands. I have experience with a blade, or I can aid construction.”
“A scribe?” The guard's brows rose and he glanced to Rilion. “Are you good with numbers, too?”
The prince nodded. “Oh, yes. Is there a job to fill? Inventory, maybe?”
“Managing His Majesty's accounts. We've a few scribes who are good with numbers, but not as many as we need. Here. Prove it, read this, and I'll let you in.” The guard rooted in his pocket for a moment, then produced a piece of folded paper.
Rilion dismounted and trudged forward to take it. He blinked. “This is a recipe for acerglyn.”
The guard laughed. “Oh, you read fast. Double the numbers on those measurements, there.”
“Double is entirely too much alcohol,” Rilion muttered. “Ten gallons of water, one gallon of maple syrup, four and a half teaspoons of brewer's yeast, one and a half cups of maple sugar—”
“All right, all right.” The guard snatched the paper back before he could finish. “Maybe that was too easy. Hey, woman. You're Kentorian, right? Do you know how to make syrup?” He waved the recipe at her.
Thea blushed. “I never worked in—”
“I know how,” Gaius interrupted. “I don't know how good the sap runs are this far north, but can teach anyone who's willing to learn.”
“Ah, good! It's been far too long since we had a proper drink.” The guard grinned, an expression shared by several of the others. One of them turned to knock on the gate and whisper a password to someone on the other side.
The gate came open and one of the men pointed inside. “You'll go up the slope to the first shack on the right. You'll check in there and let the clerk inside know what sort of jobs you can do. Approval for you to stay will have to come from His Majesty, but the clerk there will take you to him.”
“Thank you,” Gaius said. He dismounted, then helped Thea from her horse. She no longer needed the assistance, but he'd scarcely touched her since they'd left Danesse. She relished the strength of his hands against her waist and the warmth of his body as he let her slip close enough to steal a hug. He squeezed her arms, but then let go and led the way toward the shack. The gate ground closed behind them.
“I didn't know you knew how to make syrup,” Thea said.
