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“Report,” Johesha whispered to the bushes.
“Forty or fifty. Look organized.” Jude’s voice drifted from somewhere Lachlan couldn’t see.
“All armed, but they aren’t at the ready,” Brendsen added. “Paired guards at fixed intervals. We took care of the entry point, sir.”
Johesha unbuckled his leather breastplate.
“What are you doing?” Lachlan asked.
“Going in. Can’t go in with Jast insignia.”
Lachlan unbuckled the one he was wearing, offered by a soldier at the inn, bare of any unearned sigil. “Take this one–”
“Your Highness,” Johesha started.
“I’ll put yours on,” he said.
They traded.
As Johesha slipped back into the unmarked breastplate, he offered orders. “Do not come in, no matter what you see. Understand.”
Lachlan nodded.
But it seemed Johesha didn’t trust him, because he said, “Jude. Brendsen. The prince isn’t to move.”
Both guards offered a noise of affirmation.
“I’ll get her,” Johesha said to Lachlan. “On my honor.”
“Jo-” Lachlan started.
“On my honor.” Then the captain slid from the hiding spot and disappeared through the bramble. He reappeared where the two guards had once been, stood at the edge of the tree line, then walked right in as if he wanted to be caught.
“What is he doing?” Jessamine exclaimed, though her tone was hushed.
“What should we do?” Mattias asked.
Worried about interfering with whatever Captain Johesha had planned—because he clearly seemed to have one—Lachlan looked at Mattias, and with as much wisdom and patience as he could muster, said, “We wait.”
“And be ready,” Brendsen added from somewhere in the brush. “We’ll need the horses when they get her out.”
Lachlan hated sitting on the sidelines. His body began to twitch with anxiety. When Jessamine’s hand closed around his arm, he stilled.
She stopped him with her whisper. “Tarley won’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Your guard is capable?”
Lachlan nodded.
“You have other duties. Let them do theirs.”
He hated that she was right and hated that he felt ill with his impatience, but he understood. There was a time to act and a time to be patient. A time to fight and a time to relent. The wisdom was understanding the difference and acting accordingly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and despite everything in him wanting to act, trusted Johesha to do what needed to be done. For Tarley.
37
Four Tankards dragged her forward toward the tent.
