Ever the Brave (A Clash of Kingdoms Novel)(63)
The window beside the last door shows no signs of movement inside. Never having actually broken into someone’s living space, I cannot help but feel invasive as I twist the latch and open the door.
Thankfully, it glides without a creak. Some of the pressure in my chest dissipates. A few embers burn in the fireplace against the wall adjacent to the door. Across the room, old quilts cover three modest beds. Two of which have bodies occupying them.
My pulse kicks harder under my skin. I’d hoped no one would be here. At least they’re sleeping. I step in, rolling my feet heel to toe, slow and quiet, as I cross to the small wood closet with doors cracked open and a peek of clothing showing through.
There, I slide out a pair of trousers. Though they look a tad large, they have a drawstring so they can be tightened. Keeping one eye on the sleeping forms, I back into the darkest corner and change quickly. I’d go in the yard, but if a guard was to look over the wall at the servants’ yard below, that would be my death. With the trousers in place, I slip on a servant’s tunic and then put on my belt under the garment to hide my weapons.
“Who are you?” A squeaky whisper catches me unaware.
I freeze, and then slowly twist around.
A small child with braids lining her face peers at me from one of the beds.
Gods, I pull in a breath so sudden and sharp, my lungs burn from the stretch. I press my fist to my forehead until I can breathe normally again.
The little girl twists her fists into her eyes. Many of the men and women who serve in the castle raise their small families here, but I hadn’t given children at the castle any thought until this very moment.
“Why are you wearing Pa’s shirt?” She winds her hands into her blanket. “Yours is better.”
I crack an uneasy smile. Shhh, I mouth, finger at my lips.
The streak of moonlight coming through the window paints her curious face in blue-gray hues. Fury fires through me. She can be no more than six or seven years. I’m tempted to wish, for her sake, that her parents are sympathizers with Lord Jamis. Then could this little girl be safe. But it would only be for a time. After my forces take back Castle Neart, the traitors will be gathered and punished. The law calls for it. Which means children like this one will be caught in the melee. It makes me ill considering she might be left an orphan either way.
Peace will not be found on either side, even when it’s over. Not for a long time.
Mouth dry, I step back, moving to the door, not sure what else to say. I glance at the bed beside this girl and see the long dark braids of a woman. Perhaps the child’s mother. I don’t want her to wake, so I sneak back the way I came, steps careful.
The girl’s raven eyes follow me to the door. She quirks her head to the side and I wave, a gesture to let her know I’m leaving. She waves in return and yawns before lying back down.
Hopefully, she’ll think my visit was a dream. Etched into my brain, her innocent features follow me down the stairs to the ground floor, along the main hall, and to the arcading passage that leads to the dungeon.
I’m ashamed to say I don’t know all about what happens in the depths of the castle, though I’ve heard horrible stories. My anger flares brighter at myself for being so remiss as a king. I vow it won’t happen again. If we make it through this, I’ll be the king Malam needs.
I will return in force.
I will take back my castle.
I will free the innocents caught in the rebellion.
Chapter
28
Cohen
WE’RE TOO DEEP IN THE WOODS TO FIND a healer. We’ve traveled at least forty leagues from Brentyn. I’m not even sure anything can be done for Omar. It seemed like ages before he finally took a breath. Now, his slow, measured breaths barely lift his chest. He hasn’t regained consciousness. One look at the flow of blood coming from the back of his head and his caved ribs, and I know there’s too much damage to move him.
“We need to send someone back. Someone has to find a healer.” I stand and pace away from the captain. We have to keep moving. We also have to help Omar. No way to do both.
Ulrich kneels beside our leader. He’s got worry in every line of his face.
“We have to do something.” Leif leaves his horse’s side and approaches me.
Ulrich nods. “Maybe some of us can go on and some can stay.”
“We need a healer,” I tell them.
“I’ll go.” Geoffrey’s hands tremble as he grabs his satchel and a waterskin. Takes a swig. Gapes at the injured captain. Geoffrey has been in the king’s guard a dozen years longer than me. Never seen him this rattled till now. “I can go on my own. One of you can stay, and the rest of you should continue the hunt.”
We’ve been traveling for hours. The closest town is an hour away. Considering Omar’s injuries, it’s possible Geoffrey might not make it back in time before Omar passes. Our terse expressions tell me everyone has come to the same conclusion.
Still, none of us are any good to the captain if we stand around and wait. Omar would want us to continue on the hunt. Agreeing with Geoffrey, I ask, “Who will stay behind?”
Leif takes a step closer to Omar. “I will.”
Both Ulrich and Wallace joined the guard a little under a year and a half ago. Don’t know them much, but Captain Omar felt their skill was the best for this mission. I trust his judgment. They seem seasoned enough to be strong travel companions.