AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sir Ector tried to smile. “You will learn quickly, Morgan. You’ve always been a fast learner. And you’re tougher than you let on. Tougher than you may even know yourself. I have faith in you.” He cleared his throat, his face still grim. “The number of men going... I’m afraid that is not the worst part of what I must tell you.”
My eyes widened. “What do you mean?” I was having trouble imagining how it could get worse. I was leaving everyone and everything I loved and going on a perilous journey to goddess-only-knew-where. The ass-end of the world, as Lancelet had so delicately suggested yesterday.
“Step back here with me.” Sir Ector tugged on my arm. When we were safely ensconced between two pillars near the stone wall and he had satisfied himself there was no one within earshot, he continued. “I have learned the identities of both of your guards.”
“Considering we leave tomorrow, I should have liked to have known who they were long ago,” I muttered.
“One of them is Ragnar Whitehorn. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you who that is.”
I stared. “Lord Agravaine’s man.”
Sir Ector nodded tersely. “Yes.”
Was this Florian’s doing? Having his father’s right-hand-man tag along with me? If Florian could not come himself, sending Whitehorn along as a spy would be the next best thing. I did not doubt Whitehorn would be sending reports back to my brother–and to his own master.
“But... He’s not even in the Royal Guard,” I said, flailing wildly for an excuse.
“He doesn’t have to be, does he? Your brother didn’t specify that the people accompanying you would be.”
“No, he didn’t,” I admitted.
“Whitehorn is a ruthless man, Morgan. Entirely loyal to Agravaine. He’ll do whatever is asked of him, no matter how cruel it may be.”
I tried not to let the implication frighten me. “Not an ideal companion. And the other?”
Sir Ector hesitated. “Even worse.”
I gulped. “Worse? Worse than Whitethorn?”
Sir Ector nodded darkly. “Oh, he’s a skilled warrior. And until recently, I had believed him to be an honorable man. That was, until Dame Halyna and I discovered who he truly is.”
“Who who truly is?” I said, sounding like an owl.
“The captain of the Royal Guard. Kairos Draven. He is the second man who will be accompanying you.”
“What?” I stared at Sir Ector. “But I thought you and Dame Halyna had helped to appoint him. He was promoted so quickly. I don’t understand. How can Draven possibly be a bad choice?”
It was bad, of course, because everything about Draven rubbed me the wrong way. Right down to his cocky knowing attitude.
But this was different. This was about my safety. And right now, Sir Ector looked truly concerned.
“We did not appoint him,” Sir Ector countered. “It seems Dame Halyna was under the same misimpression that I had a hand in it–and I believed the same about her. But neither of us had anything to do with Draven’s quick promotion. Your brother and Lord Agravaine–that is who you may thank. Or who Draven should thank, I should say, for his impressive rise.”
“What exactly is wrong with Draven? Why would my brother elevate a man you and Dame Halyna are so disapproving of?”
“There was nothing wrong with Draven... at first,” Sir Ector admitted. “His recommendations seemed sound. His papers looked genuine. He claimed to be a simple reservist soldier from the countryside north of Camelot. He said he’d grown up on a farm, helping his father and brothers. Of course, he seemed to have been very well trained for a rural reservist, so yes, perhaps we should have dug deeper. But we were grateful for a skilled man. And so we took him at face value.”
“And then?” I prodded.
Sir Ector glanced at me. “You’re probably unaware of this, Morgan, but Dame Halyna and I have our own connections. They’re nowhere near as sophisticated as your brother and Lord Agravaine’s spy network. But yesterday, one of our sources came through. She brought us information concerning Draven the likes of which we had not even fathomed.”
“What do you mean?” My heart was beating faster. “Please be clear.”
“I will be. I take your life very seriously, Morgan. You are precious to me. As precious as my own son. If I could force the king to call off this foolish journey, or to send someone in your stead, I would. If begging would have any effect, I would beg.” He met my eyes bleakly. “But you know your brother.”
“I do,” I said softly. “Still, I thank you, Sir Ector. The affection you bear me–you know it is mutual.”
He nodded. “Don’t thank me yet.” His lips thinned. “Draven is known by another name. Not quite a name. A title. Void’s Edge.”
