“I’m fine. I just need —” He took one step and dropped to one knee, catching himself before he fell completely.
“You’ve been poisoned, your highness,” Ashyn said. “And four days in a fever. You cannot expect to get up and walk out of here.”
“You sound like your sister. Except she’d inject more snap and less civility in the sentiment. Now, speaking of Moria…”
Again, he trailed off. The fever may have broken, but he hadn’t quite recovered his wits, and he kept forgetting himself.
“Is she still…?” He looked up sharply. “She was captured. Did you find her?”
“We could not,” Ronan said. “Daigo could not either. We believe she was delivered straight to Alvar Kitsune, as a prize of war.”
Tyrus nodded slowly, and Ashyn could see his mind turning. “Yes, that would make sense. If she’s with Alvar, then she’s with Gavril, which means she is safe. Whatever he’s done, it’s not as if he’d allow her to rot in a dungeon.”
“That was my thinking as well,” Ashyn said.
“Good.” A weak smile for her. “Then we can both rest easier until I recover her, which I intend to do as quickly as I can. I presume the counselors have been sent back to tell my father what’s happened?”
Ronan looked at Ashyn.
“I fear the counselors are dead,” Ashyn said. “They were waylaid after we searched for the children’s camp. Which we did not find.”
“Because the children were never here,” Tyrus said.
She nodded. “It seems so. The man with the story about his brothers was likely a trap to convince you that you were heading the right way.”
“While Alvar’s men attacked Northpond instead.”
“I don’t know.” She’d been trying hard not to think of that.
When she looked over, she knew that this was exactly what he was thinking. Of Northpond. Massacred because he’d made the wrong choice.
“The counselors supported your decision,” she said.
“Which would be much more helpful if they’d survived to confirm that.”
“We’ll confirm it. And Simeon. He survived, and we’ve sent him back to the city to tell your father. A fast rider should be along any moment now.”
Tyrus nodded, but his gaze was still distant.
“Simeon will tell him what happened,” Ashyn continued. “You made the best possible choice, and you had the full support of both counselors. We all heard that. You will be fine.”
“The people of Northpond will not be fine. Nor will the counselors. Or the warriors who rode with us.” He fell quiet, then managed a wry twist of a smile. “Well, I always said I had no interest in politics or a high military position. Now I don’t have to worry about it. And I’ve long wanted to see the desert. I’ve heard the outposts there aren’t nearly as bad as they claim.”
“No one is exiling you to a military outpost,” Ashyn said. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I’m joking.” He paused. “I hope. But enough of that. When exactly did you send Simeon and what were his orders?”
“A rider should have come by now,” Tyrus said when Ashyn finished explaining. “Something has happened to Simeon.” He stood again and looked about. “You have my blades.”
Ronan passed them over, along with Tyrus’s belt and tunic.
“We’ll start for the city,” he said.
“Now?” Ashyn said. “You’re not recovered enough for the journey.”
“I have to be. The longer we delay, the longer my father doesn’t know about Jorojumo’s betrayal. And the longer before I can go after Moria.”
“You truly aren’t in any condition to travel. Ronan can go. Guin’s here, though I’m not sure she’s more help than hindrance.”
“Guin…? Ah, yes. The spirit-possessed girl.” A half laugh. “I cannot believe I just said that quite so casually. We do make an unlikely group, don’t we? The Seeker, the thief, the ghost, and the bastard prince.” He shook his head. “We are leaving, though. All of us. If I can’t manage it, Ronan will go on ahead, but I need to try. We leave before sundown.”
TWENTY-SIX
Ronan stole horses for their journey. No, Ashyn corrected. They stole horses. Ronan only found the steeds and facilitated the theft. They needed mounts as much as they’d needed food.
Tyrus made a note of the homesteads they’d taken them from and vowed that he’d pay the owners back tenfold. But they were still on Jorojumo’s land, so the chance that Tyrus could pay them back was slight, though it made them feel better. Or it made Ashyn and Tyrus feel better. Ronan and Guin seemed to consider the entire discussion a waste of time.
Having come from homesteads, the horses were not accustomed to galloping long distances. Neither, Ashyn would admit, was she. Not that she mentioned it, even when she could barely walk upon dismounting. To her surprise, Guin didn’t complain either, though she seemed to be in as much discomfort as Ashyn.
The horses did their best, but by the time they were two days’ hard ride from the imperial city, it became clear they could go no farther without resting. The group stopped at an inn to water and feed their mounts and themselves.
Tova and Daigo stayed in a patch of forest near the stables. Tyrus hid his tattoos and blades under a light cloak. In his present state, it was unlikely his face would be recognized even in the city. It was still wan from the poison and filthy from the road, with a yellowing bruise on one cheek and a healing cut on his chin.