Orphan's Blade (14 page)

Nathaniel waited for Brax to respond, but he shoved bread in his mouth as if he were a starved beggar in the streets. Would he leave Valoria’s comment unanswered? Nathaniel took up the thread of conversation. “My father took me stargazing as well—my real father, I mean.” He gave Brax a meaningful glance, not wanting to speak of the king in such a familiar manner with a guest, even if she would be in their family soon.

“How about you, my prince? Ever gaze at the stars?” Valoria leaned over. She’d stopped eating, studying Brax as if he were a riddle she could not solve.

Brax took a swig from his sheepskin. “I do not have time for such frivolities.”

She glanced down as if he’d slapped her. “I see.”

Brax’s slight to Valoria made Nathaniel’s chest pang. He squeezed his hand into a fist, then released his fingers. “What were you singing of?”

“Songs to protect us, ward off danger, and make us seem uninteresting to passersby.” Valoria ripped off a piece of bread and tasted it with a sullen face.

Was she sullen because of Brax’s disinterest in conversation, or because she didn’t like the bread? Nathaniel felt compelled to cheer her spirits. “Powerful songs, indeed.”

Brax stood. “I must see to the horses.”

“You do not want dessert?” Valoria stood as well, offering a small parcel. “I brought fig cakes from the best baker in the House of Song.”

Nathaniel gave Brax an emphatic look. He never turned down food.

“I have no taste for figs.” Without looking back, the prince disappeared on the other side of the carriage where he’d tied the horses.

Valoria stuffed the parcel in her backpack. Her shoulders sagged as if she were defeated.

Nathaniel didn’t know which move was worse: to console her by trying a fig and strengthen the already compelling bond between them, or to leave her be. With all of his comments so far, it was better not to tempt fate.

“For your benefit, I’ve never seen him eat a fig.”

She smiled and then covered her mouth as if she shouldn’t make fun. “I had hoped it would be easier to speak to one another without the formality of the castle.”

’Twas always easy for Nathaniel to speak with her. He longed to put his arm around her and comfort her. The fault was not hers. Brax did not share a love of the stars, or desserts. Or beautiful princesses, from the looks of it.

The late king’s face flashed in his memory.
Promise me, when I am gone, you will look after him and steer him on the right course when he falters.

Nathaniel clenched his hands into fists, breathing hard as he reined in his feelings. If he wasn’t careful, someday they’d grow too large to control, and he could never let that happen. Not if he wanted to keep his promise. “Brax is a man of few words. Give him time.”

Barren Ground

“Hey, there! Help an old man on the side of the road?”

“We cannot leave him.”

“What if he recognizes one of us? What if it’s a trap?”

“There’s no chance a farmer’s ever been to the castle, never mind seen me up close.”

Valoria awoke to voices. She jerked upright as panic strangled her throat. How long had she been asleep? She reached for her harp and grasped thin air. Lyric’s broken string! Staying up all night to ensure their safety must have caught up with her. And now they’d paid the price.

Someone on the road had noticed them.

Relief coursed through her as she found her harp in the hay by her feet. Clutching the instrument to her stomach, she waited, listening.

The wagon slowed and stopped. Had both men lost their minds? What if they were recognized this close to the castle?

“Can we be of aid, sir?” That was Nathaniel’s voice.

Valoria peeked out the leather in the back. The sun was on the verge of setting across a land of bare, blackened trees. She must have slept all day. At least they weren’t near Ebonvale’s borders any longer. The risk of being recognized wasn’t as great as she thought.

“Raiders stole my bags and my horse. I need transportation to the nearest village.” The voice had the grittiness of an old man’s.

“Where are you from, sir?” Nathaniel’s voice grew softer as if he’d jumped from the wagon to approach the old man.

“New Shaletown. I was on my way to help my son. He’s moved up north to work on a farm. Doesn’t like the barren ground.” The old man sounded sincere, however far-fetched the story was. Yet, Valoria picked up a slight rise in his voice at odd intervals. Anxiety crept up her spine. Knowing Nathaniel, he wouldn’t deny someone in need.

“We’re traveling south.” Brax barked.

For once, Valoria appreciated his shortness.

“I’ll go anywhere. Just don’t leave me here.” The man pleaded. “I have a bad leg, and I won’t be able to walk far.”

“Come with us.” Nathaniel’s voice softened. “Either we’ll pass another party going north, or we can take you back to Shaletown. I mean, New Shaletown, and you can find another horse.”

“Mar’s the name. Old man Mar.”

A grunt followed, like someone hefting another person into the front of the wagon.

“I’m Blue. This here’s my brother, Axel. Our sister, Val, is in the back.”

Valoria bit her lip to keep from smiling. Nathaniel had chosen Blue like his last name, Blueborough. Axel had some of the letters of Brax, and Val was what her mother had called her. Very fitting, but an odd bunch of names put together. Hopefully, Mar had an odd enough name not to question theirs.

Brax shouted to the horses with his rumbling bass voice, and the wagon began to move.

“You moving down south?” Old man Mar picked up his voice to speak over the din of the horses’ hooves and creaking wheels.

“We are.” Nathaniel sounded young and hopeful, just like someone trying to make a new life. “Work on the farm has dried up.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” The old man coughed. “’Tis a hard world we live in now, nothing like the peacefulness of my youth, back when wyverns were just a fireside tale.” Fabric rustled and the bench creaked as if he shifted in his seat, maybe glancing backward at the wagon. “Brought everything down with you?”

The question was odd in an abrupt sort of way. Why did he need to know what they carried in the back? Valoria pursed her lips. Perhaps she was being overly cautious. He was an old man, not a warrior with a sword.

“Everything we own, which isn’t much.” Nathaniel’s answer was clever. Valoria’s mother had told her never to admit having anything of value to a stranger, even if he was an old man.

“Some provisions for the road?” For an old man, Mar was inquisitive.

“If you’re hungry, I have a heel of bread in my pocket.” Nathaniel answered.

“Thank you much, Blue. Your brother doesn’t talk much, does he? Look at those arms—thick as tree trunks. Has he had warrior training?”

Valoria tilted her head. An underlying anxiousness and eagerness had crept into Mar’s tone, and it wasn’t from being robbed. This man was hungry, but not for a heel of bread.

She picked up her harp, took a deep breath, and strummed a unique chord.

“Honesty is key

In a world where truth is veiled.

Loosen your tongue

So I can see

The fact from the tale.”

“Val loves her music.” Nathaniel laughed nervously. He may have thought Valoria would give them away, but they’d done enough of that themselves. She continued stroking the chords, building the dissonance until it could not be ignored.

“I am tired of this ceaseless banter.” Brax growled. “Small talk makes my feet itch in my boots.”

“Must you always be so impertinent?” Nathaniel chastised. “Sometimes I think you have no polite words in your thick head.”

Valoria smiled and kept strumming. If only her sense of morality would allow her this opportunity every day.

“And you have no simplicity. You prattle on and on, tying your words into tapestries of riddles. You might as well be a minstrel.” Frustration lined Brax’s voice.

Valoria plucked an angry note, almost breaking her spell. Wincing, she returned to her chords of truth.

“How do you ever expect to marry one if you cannot stand their ‘tapestries of riddles’?” Nathaniel shot back.

“My marriage is none of your concern. I cannot even concern myself with it at present, nor do I wish to.” Brax’s voice rose with each word.

Nor does he wish to? Valoria’s chest panged.

“Go on, go on. All I have to do is keep you two distracted for another two miles.” Old man Mar interrupted just when the conversation was turning interesting.

“And why is that?” Nathaniel changed his tone to one of intrigue.

“For the ambush.”

“Whoa!” Brax must have pulled on the reins, because the wagon veered to the right and halted abruptly.

Valoria stopped playing and steadied herself against the forward pull of momentum. Quickly, she picked up her chords where she’d fallen off.

“And who is going to ambush us?” Brax growled. Fabric rustled and boards creaked as the old man cried out. Valoria bet Brax had the man’s throat in his hands.

“My band.” The old man’s voice turned fearful.

“Who is their leader?”

“Gibson.” He cried. “Gibson the great. He’s going to bring prosperity back to these lands.”

“Prosperity?” Nathaniel sounded dumbfounded. “More like murder and crime.”

Valoria put her harp down and pushed her head through the leather. Hot, dry air stung her face. A flurry of wind threw ash and soot in her eyes. She’d heard stories about the ravaged country in the south, but to stand in the middle of it sucked her lungs dry. Now she understood why so many people turned to raiding. Who could find hope in so much death?

As expected, Brax held the man by his throat. The old man’s face turned red, and spittle drooled down his chin.

“Do not interfere,
sister
,” Brax scolded her. “We have matters under control.”

“Do you?” She strummed three distinct notes, each one higher in pitch.

Nathaniel winced, and Brax brought his hand to his forehead. The old man’s eyes rolled into his head and his body slackened. Brax removed his hand, and shock lit his face as he laid old man Mar down on the bench.

“Did you kill him?” Nathaniel gawked.

“Of course not.” Valoria placed her hands on her hips. “I suppose you think he spoke the truth of his own accord.”

Brax blinked in astonishment and eyed her defensively. “You cast a spell on us. Back when we were talking, and again just now.”

“I had to. You accepted a spy as a friend.”

“Not I.” Brax crossed his thick arms across his chest. “I would have left the scoundrel on the side of the road. Nathaniel gave in to his cause.”

Nathaniel frowned, studying the old man. “He looked so helpless, how could I leave him?”

Valoria touched Nathaniel’s arm. “If we had left him on the side of the road, we’d have no knowledge of this impending ambush. You were right to help him.”

“But, what will we do with him now?” Nathaniel scanned the area. “We can’t bring him back to Ebonvale to stand trial.”

Brax unsheathed his sword. “We cannot let him live. He knows too much.”

“Hold on.” Nathaniel commanded as he raised his hand.

Valoria pushed by Brax and positioned herself in front of Mar. “He will not remember this when he wakes.”

“Are you certain?” Brax’s dark, cold eyes bore into her.

Valoria nodded. “Leave him on the side of the road where we found him.”

Brax’s jaw tensed and a vein in his forehead pulsed. “And let a traitor, a raider, go free?”

Valoria refused to allow him to bark orders as if she were a servant. “We can’t drag him with us the entire journey.”

“We should leave him like Valoria says.” Nathaniel placed a hand on Brax’s shoulder. “If he went missing, the raiders would suspect the Royal Guard at work.”

Surprisingly, Brax calmed. “You are wise, brother.” He sheathed his sword and took the man’s feet. “Help me move him.”

Of course, when she suggested they leave Mar it was preposterous, but after his wise brother suggested it, Brax relented. Valoria breathed to calm her temper as Nathaniel and Brax carried the man to the side of the road. Ash wafted as they dropped him on the ground. His hands were calloused, like those of a farmer. They were not the hands of a petty thief. Had he been a farmer before the wyverns came?

Pity softened her anger. One day she’d right the wrongs afflicting these people, but first she had to staunch the flow of evil up north. Both men were speaking quietly, and Valoria jumped from the wagon bench and joined them on the side of the road. They quieted as she approached.

If they would not speak, she might as well take the lead. “And what of the ambush?”

Nathaniel pointed southwest. “The hills we think they are hiding behind lie just a few miles south before the dried lake. My father and I used to sit upon them in the spring when we delivered our goods from Shaletown to the north.”

Nathaniel turned east. “There is a path through the dead forest. It will take four days longer, but we can avoid the entire area.”

Four days? Valoria calculated the risk. “That would not give us much time to find creatures no one’s seen in over a century and convince them to trade their most valued good. We
must
return to Ebonvale before the next necromancer attack.”

Brax wiped sweat from his broad forehead and sized Valoria up with mild admiration. “I agree with the princess. I’m more inclined to stay and fight.”

Valoria stared in disbelief. Brax? Take her side?

“We do not know how many people they have in their party.” Nathaniel’s voice was calm and patient, like the voice of reason. “If they capture us or steal our wagon and horses, we may not return to Ebonvale for quite some time. And we have the princess with us.”

Brax ran his hand over his shaved head and frowned. “There’s that.”

Valoria narrowed her eyes. She expected as much from Brax, but from Nathaniel? “If I wasn’t here, you’d both be killed in an ambush.” Honestly, how many times did she have to save them to prove her worth?

Valoria shook her head, trying to think beyond all of the macho chauvinism. She turned to Nathaniel. “You say you know which hills?”