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But Telor’s face tightens with doubt. “Hudem is in three days. It takes a week to move an army down through this mountain range and then up to the rift. We will not make it in time.”
“We will if we go through Soldor.” Zander taps the map.
“Where?” When did they come up with that plan?
“An old mining city, riddled with Nulling beasts, parts of it likely fallen right into the rift. The eastern entrance was barricaded centuries ago.” Telor shakes his head. “No one has gone there, for good reason.”
“I have,” Radomir counters. “It’s not as bad as you describe. Only two spots that open into the rift. There’s even a water source.”
“How delightful.” Elisaf is no more thrilled about this plan than Telor is, but he hasn’t been happy since the name Venhorn was first spoken.
Radomir shrugs. “The creatures in there are on the small side and easy enough to kill, though they tend not to bother my kind. They don’t have a taste for us.”
“And what about our kind?” Telor glares at Zander. “You cannot seriously be considering this? What about our horses?”
“I’ve ridden right through on horseback many times,” Radomir answers.
“And we have swords for the creatures,” Zander says evenly. “Radomir knows the passage well and says we can be through within thirty-six hours, placing us at the rift’s pass. But we must move as soon as possible.”
“My stronghold of three hundred will be trekking through caves and underground passages. They should emerge here”—Radomir taps on the map, on a spot north of us—“by nightfall. If we meet them there, we can march to Soldor together.”
“Traveling through the night?” Telor sounds doubtful.
“If it’s any consolation, it’s always night in Soldor.” Radomir chuckles.
“We use this passage, we do not stop, and after the second sunrise, we will be at the rift and ready to lead whoever is there. The saplings can wait until nightfall of Hudem to emerge.” Zander nods, as if the plan is coming together.
But he doesn’t have Lord Telor’s agreement yet, and by the deep frown across the lord’s face, I don’t know if he’ll get it. “The rift soldiers will see Ybarisans ride out and they will attack before I can reach them.”
An idea strikes me. “What if they don’t see Ybarisans. What if they see Ulysede’s soldiers?”
“The armory.” A slow smile stretches across Zander’s lips. “There is more than enough to outfit them with helms, shields, and weaponry. It should buy us enough time with confusion. Good idea. Will they agree to this, Kienen?”
Kienen’s lips press. “If Her Highness orders it, so it shall be done.”
Zander turns to Telor. “What say you? Are you with us? Will you help us save Islor?”
Finally, he sighs. “If there is a battle to be fought at the rift, you know I will be there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ATTICUS
I can’t recall the last time I was in the Goat’s Knoll this early. It’s filled with shadows, empty save for two couples in booths across the room. The air reeks of last night’s ale, making this dull ache in my head all the more potent.
“Where might I find the owner?”
“At this hour? You may not find her.” The hostess manning the door keeps her focus on the green leaves she hand-stitches into a corset.
“That is some talent you have there.” I set three gold coins on the wooden counter.
She blinks at them, but then returns to her work. “My lady does not wish to be disturbed before she comes down for the evening.”
I can sense her heartbeat racing with want. Bexley treats her mortals well, but this pretty young blond could sew a hundred gowns and never receive such payment. “Your lady.” So, Bexley is upstairs in her apartment. Perfect. I lean over the counter on my elbows, dropping my voice. “I don’t recall granting Bexley land or title in my realm, and my father and brother certainly did not.” How Bexley ever secured a prime business establishment like this one on Port Street, I’ve never cared to ask. I know little about the tavern owner, besides what I’ve had my mouth and hands on from time to time. Those parts, I know very well.
Finally, the servant’s eyes flip to mine and widen. And then widen more. “I … Your Highness?” She moves to put her work down, but I set my hand atop hers.
“No need for formalities. In fact, I’d prefer discretion.” It’s why I used the passageways behind the walls to leave the castle, why I donned my leathers and hid within my deep cowl.
Her head bobs, her breath shaky.
“It’s been a while.” I can’t recall her name, or how she tasted, but I do remember her pale green irises. “How are you?”
“I didn’t know you were … you that night.” Her cheeks flush a scarlet red.
“I wasn’t me that night.” I wasn’t the prince or the commander either. I was just an elven male looking for a release after my parents had been murdered and I had been duped. “Thank you for the information. I will ensure she does not punish you.” I set another two coins on the others. “And this is to ensure my visit here is never confirmed, nor discussed.”
