“His face. There was something wrong…” He swallowed. “I apologize, your highness. I know it sounds like the words of a madman and perhaps my mind tricked me, in the darkness and the confusion of waking so abruptly.”
“Describe what you saw.”
“It was my brother, yet it was not. His face was wrong, twisted. Ghastly. Like something from a nightmare.”
“Then what happened?”
“I fell back in horror while he turned away and they both kept walking. There were figures on the road. Distant figures, walking. Fearing for my life, I fled into the forest. From the road, I heard marching footsteps. They did not stop. I don’t know where my brothers went.”
To join them, Ashyn thought. They went to join them.
At the tramp of feet, she jumped, turning so fast she forgot she was mounted and nearly slid off. It was only the rest of their group.
“Which way?” Moria asked the merchant. “Tell us which way they went.”
Ashyn watched as the man lifted his finger and pointed in the direction they’d been traveling.
The road to Riverside.
Tyrus released the man. When the merchant saw where they were going, he decided to head out on his own – in the opposite direction. Ashyn didn’t blame him.
Ashyn waited with Simeon while Tyrus and Moria told the counselors about the man. After the conference, Tyrus looked as if a lead-lined cloak had been lifted from his back.
“The counselors agree,” Moria said as she rode to Ashyn. “Given what that merchant saw, we’ve made the proper choice in going to Riverside.”
Ashyn exhaled in relief. The counselors openly supported Tyrus’s decision. Which meant if anything went wrong, the blame would be shared, as he’d been acting with their counsel.
Tyrus allowed Ronan out of hiding, explaining that he was a scout Tyrus had brought along to help with exactly these situations. Ronan would need to keep his swords hidden, but otherwise, he could freely join them as they continued toward Riverside, and whatever awaited them there.
NINETEEN
It was nearly night again. They kept at the wagons’ pace, knowing they didn’t dare whip the horses into a lather, but it seemed frustratingly slow to all.
Ronan was scouting ahead. Ashyn hadn’t seen him since they’d taken a brief break for a midday meal, stopping mostly to water and rest the horses. Moria was with Tyrus, not so much for camaraderie now as support. Simeon rode with Ashyn.
“Do you mind companionship, my lady?” Simeon asked.
Ashyn managed a weary smile for him. “We sometimes had scholars stop by Edgewood, wishing to see the Wastes and the Forest of the Dead. My father always found a chance for me to speak to them, but it was never enough. Truth be told, I don’t think they took my interest seriously. There aren’t many girls apprenticed to scholars, I presume?”
It took a moment for him to say, “No, not many,” and even then the words came hesitantly, as if she’d not answered the question he asked. Which she had not.
“Ah,” she said. “That explains it, then. Well, I do appreciate the chance to converse.”
His cheeks colored, and she wondered if she’d misspoken. It was such a difficult line to tread – not wanting to encourage romantic attentions but not wanting to refuse his friendship either.
Relations between young men and women were so complicated. In this instance, also so ill-timed. There ought to be a universal law that if dire circumstances arose, they happened only to those past the age of romantic entanglements, so as not to interfere with the more pressing issues at hand.
“I must ask you a question, Ashyn,” Simeon said as she craned her neck to look for Moria and Tyrus. “I fear you’ll think it impudent.”
“Hmm?” she said distractedly.
“It’s about the scout. Ronan. What is his caste?”
She tensed. “Yes, that is indeed impud—”
“I know he carries a blade, though he hides it around the warriors. Does the prince know?”
When she didn’t reply, Simeon continued, “I am aware that there are men who break the laws in such matters. Mercenaries and bandits. I can see how the imperial family might find use for such men, so I am not questioning —”
“Ronan comes from an old warrior family. Common warriors of low ranking.”
It was true, though she did not say Ronan himself was a warrior. She was not certain when his family had lost their caste, only that it had been several generations past.
Simeon’s face fell, as if in disappointment, and she felt a prickle of annoyance. Was he hoping to discover Ronan was indeed a bandit or mercenary? He’d never seemed the sort to indulge in scandalous gossip.
“Then I must ask another question,” he said after a few moments of riding. “As much as I’d hoped that, in your answer to the first, I could avoid this one.” He gripped the reins tighter. “Are you courting?”
“What?”
“I’ve seen the attention he pays you, and I had hoped he was lowborn, so I might be certain that attention was only the reverence due a Seeker.”
She opened her mouth to say that since she could not marry, there was no need to worry what caste her suitors were. But that would imply the answer to the question was yes – they were courting.
“We are friends,” she said. “He accompanied me across the Wastes.”
“Oh, he is from Edgewood? I did not know that.” A slow smile touched his lips. “Well, then, that makes perfect sense. I am glad to hear you are not otherwise involved. He seems somewhat… disreputable.”