Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4)

by Jaye L. Knight

  Panic flashed in her eyes and tremored in her voice. Jace needed no further prompting. He grasped her hand more tightly and stepped closer to Balen.

  “My lord,” he said when they reached the king’s side. “We should go.”

  Balen turned to them, looking first at Jace before his gaze lowered to Kyrin, whose face was almost pleading with him, thinly veiled fear peeking through.

  Before he could utter a word, she told him, “I think we’re in danger.”

  Jace waited for his response. Would he think Kyrin was overreacting to the situation? Jace wasn’t used to seeing her so shaken, but if she said they were in danger, he believed her.

  Balen nodded and turned to the others. “We’re going.”

  Kyrin breathed a sigh but cast a wary glance toward Cray and his friends. Jace squeezed her hand again. These cretes would have to come through him to harm her or any of them.

  Word passed through the group and everyone gathered closer to Balen, including Darq’s brothers, who looked thoroughly disgusted with their brethren. Balen gained Lord Vallan’s attention and said, “I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if we took our leave.”

  Lord Vallan gave a short nod, his face grim. “I apologize for this. I don’t know what has gotten into everyone. My men and I will make sure no one follows you out.”

  They all turned toward the bridge back into the city. Darq, Rayad, and Talas led the way while Darq’s brothers and the Tarns brought up the rear, keeping Balen well protected in the center of the group. They crossed into the city, and the sound of upraised voices slowly faded behind them. Jace kept Kyrin at his side and scanned every bridge for danger. The city was quiet with so many at Flat Point, and they encountered only a few cretes along the way.

  Jace breathed much more easily once they reached the Tarn’s house. They all filed inside, filling up the living room. While no one spoke immediately, Captain Darq looked angry enough to hit someone. Had they stayed, he probably would have. Even easygoing Talas appeared to be in a fighting mood. That alone told Jace they had made the right choice in following Kyrin’s warning. Bloodshed between the cretes certainly wouldn’t have helped anyone.

  After a moment to compose himself, Darq faced Balen. “I sincerely apologize, my lord. I expected more from my people.”

  Novan, Glynn, and Darq’s brothers expressed their own regrets.

  “I would hope I speak for the majority of the cretes in saying it was a shameful lack of courtesy and honor,” Darq continued. “I don’t doubt Lord Vallan will have a thing or two to say to Cray and his friends.”

  “I am only glad we left before things grew too far out of hand, thanks to Kyrin’s warning,” Balen said.

  Darq turned his attention to her. “Did you see something that presented a danger?”

  “I believed us all to be in danger, yes,” she said. “Do you remember last summer in Samara when you met with my grandfather and Falcor at the river? Marcus said that Falcor told you to let the humans fight amongst themselves. That’s what Cray said. It could be coincidence, but what if it’s not?”

  Darq narrowed his eyes. “You think Cray could be a traitor too?”

  Kyrin lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know. He probably isn’t, but he and the others gave me a bad feeling. The last time I ignored such feelings, disaster happened. Maybe he’s not with Falcor, but he’s certainly not with us. Everything about his behavior threatened ill will. And you saw how many were listening and responding to what he was saying. That’s why I thought we should leave.” She turned contritely to Balen. “I’m sorry if I overreacted.”

  Balen shook his head. “No, don’t be. You were right to warn us. It was best we left when we did. It wasn’t worth the risk to stay.”

  “So, what’s our plan now?” Rayad asked. “If Cray and his friends are traitors, what’s to stop them from coming for us here?”

  “Naeth and I will set a watch outside,” Novan said, “to guard the house.”

  “We’ll join you.” Darq nodded at his brothers and Glynn. “That should deter anyone from snooping around or attempting any surprise attacks.”

  “It will only be for tonight,” Balen told them. “I think it’s time we left Arvael. Arguing with the clan leaders isn’t getting us anywhere. Even if Cray and his friends aren’t traitors, tempers are high and everyone is on edge. We should leave now before the whole thing gets out of hand.”

  Darq sighed. “As much as I hate it, I agree.”

  “So, we’re going back to Landale?” Talas asked.

  “No,” Balen answered, surprising everyone. “First, we’re going to Bel-gard. I want to speak with King Orlan. Perhaps if the giants will help us, the cretes will change their minds.”

  “Do you really think the giants would agree to go to war?” Rayad asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Kyrin glanced warily at the window near her hammock. They had closed and bolted the shutters, but what if someone prowled around out there in the darkness? At least Darq, Novan, and the others would stand guard. Surely no one could get past them unnoticed. She tried to rest easy as she prepared for bed knowing that even if someone did manage to get to one of the two bedroom windows, Leetra wouldn’t sleep for hours, if at all.

  Changing out of her borrowed clothing, Kyrin put on a pair of linen pants and a short-sleeved shirt. With the uncertainty of tonight, it felt better to remain fully dressed than in a nightgown. At the washstand near the door, she wet a cloth and pushed up her sleeves to wash away the paint Trenna had applied. She scrubbed her left arm clean first before turning to her right one.

  When she came to the trillium, she hesitated and stared at it for a long moment. Trenna had created such a lovely design. She turned to Leetra. “Do you have any tattoo supplies?”

  Leetra looked up from fiddling with a feather from her hair. “Not with me, but I’m sure Sonah does. Why?”

  “Can you duplicate this trillium?”

  Leetra’s brows lifted, but something resembling respect lit her eyes. After all, tattoos were a significant and meaningful part of crete culture that most outsiders probably had no interest in. She nodded. “Sure.”

  She slipped from her hammock and out the door.

  While she was gone, Kyrin finished cleaning all but the trillium from her arm. A couple of minutes later, Leetra returned with a small wooden box containing three jars of brown ink and a collection of brushes. She nodded to the floor. “You can sit down.”

  Kyrin knelt on the floor, and Leetra sat cross-legged beside her. She had never considered Leetra a close friend but, right now, they shared a certain camaraderie.

  “Just hold very still,” Leetra instructed. “Once this goes on and sits for a few minutes, it’s permanent.”

  Kyrin nodded, stiffening her body and breathing carefully. She watched Leetra open the lightest bottle of ink and dip in a very thin brush. Then she went to work tracing an outline around the painted on flower. Once it was dry, she wiped off the rest of the paint and filled in the outline.

  “So what’s the significance of a trillium?” Leetra asked, her voice unusually soft.

  “It reminds me of my father.” It would be a way to carry the memory of him with her, much like the stone necklace she almost never took off. She touched the stone with her left hand and breathed deeply to stop the emotion from taking hold of her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Kyrin looked over at Leetra again and met her eyes. In the dim room, they were a deep royal purple and filled with a solemn seriousness Kyrin hadn’t seen before.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” she went on, her voice still soft and earnest.

  Though Kyrin had seen how what took place in Valcré had affected her, Leetra had never spoken of it like this.

  She shook her head and dropped her gaze. “I really should’ve seen Falcor for who he truly was. I don’t know how I was so blind.”

  Kyrin just stared at her for a moment. She spoke wi
thout anger or detachment. Her walls were down, allowing a rare sincerity to shine through.

  “Thank you,” Kyrin murmured. She tipped her head a little to get a better look at Leetra’s face. “But it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Elôm allowed my father to die for a purpose. I may never fully heal from it, but at least I know his death wasn’t meaningless. In the end, it brought my family together in a way it never was before—not even when I was young, before Tarvin Hall.”

  Leetra nodded slowly and met Kyrin’s gaze for a moment. “He also left behind a legacy in his children that would bring great pride to any father.”

  Kyrin’s lungs tightened up and pressure welled in her eyes. She had never heard Leetra pay anyone such a meaningful compliment, considering how seriously cretes took their family legacies. A smile grew on Kyrin’s face, and to her surprise, Leetra offered a genuine and open smile in return. It was as if Kyrin were catching a glimpse of the real Leetra for the first time.

  Quiet settled around them again as Leetra worked on the tattoo, but it was a comfortable silence. Sometime later, Leetra announced she was done and now they just needed to let it dry. Several minutes passed before she took a rag and washed off the excess ink to reveal the finished tattoo. Kyrin twisted her arm around to inspect it. Though only in brown and not the vibrant blue paint, the new tattoo was even more beautiful than the temporary one. Leetra had done a masterful job in blending the different shades of brown to create a very lifelike depiction of a trillium.

  “It’s perfect.” She smiled again at Leetra. “Thank you.”

  Leetra nodded as she gathered up the supplies to return to Sonah. “It was an honor to do it for you.”

  Jace rubbed his fingers against his tired eyes. His life seemed characterized by sleepless nights. Though he had tried to rest and trust that Darq and the others had the house secure, every little sound had him wide-awake. But dawn arrived without incident. He thanked Elôm for this and asked forgiveness for his lack of trust. As much as he had learned and changed in the last year, he still found it difficult not to expect the worst of both situations and people. He comforted himself with the fact that he hadn’t been the only one. Rayad had tossed and turned all night long, as had others.

  Yet, despite the lack of adequate sleep, a sense of determination and new purpose surrounded them this morning. As intriguing as parts of it were, Jace couldn’t say he’d be disappointed to leave Arvael behind. It would be good to set foot on solid ground again.

  After folding and stacking the bedding they’d used, they all left the bedroom, their packs in tow. Female voices drifted from the dining room as they descended the stairs. Kyrin and Leetra were setting the table and talking almost like old friends. Odd. In the two years she’d been in camp, Jace hadn’t known Leetra to be very talkative unless angered. They quieted, and Leetra darted a glance at Timothy. Kyrin had pointed them out dancing last night, which was a huge step forward, considering how pointedly Leetra had ignored Timothy at Warin and Lenae’s wedding.

  But Jace’s attention didn’t linger on them, instead focusing on Kyrin. When she reached to set a cup on the table, a brown trillium tattoo peeked out just below her sleeve. He wasn’t surprised. When she looked up, she met his eyes and offered a smile, though the weariness in it said she probably hadn’t slept any more than he had. It would be good for her to get out of Arvael as well. It seemed to dredge up too many painful memories.

  Just as the women finished getting breakfast on the table, Captain Darq and the other crete men joined them from outside.

  “Did you see anyone last night?” Rayad asked.

  Darq shook his head. “No. Everything was quiet.”

  Before breakfast began, Talas, Leetra, Timothy, and Aaron excused themselves to say goodbye to their families. Once they had left, everyone bowed their heads while Novan offered thanks for the food and prayed for the safety and success of Balen and their group. They then passed around the food.

  From the head of the table, Novan looked at Balen. “Naeth would like to accompany you—not just to Bel-gard, but back to Landale. We all feel there should be Tarns actively fighting on the right side of this struggle.”

  Balen nodded. “We appreciate the help. Your people have been instrumental in our fight.”

  “Speaking of which, Glynn is going to remain here and work with Novan to find out just how many cretes will fight with us if we were to try to take back Samara,” Darq said. He shrugged. “Perhaps it will be enough.”

  Shortly after they finished their meal, Talas and the others returned with Trenna so she could say goodbye. Everyone gathered up their belongings, said farewell to Sonah, and thanked her for her hospitality. With Darq and Novan in the lead, they left the house and headed for Dragon Rest.

  Along the way, Jace fought to overcome his fear of heights and take in the scenery one last time before leaving it behind. After all, he probably wouldn’t visit again, at least not very willingly. Despite the heights, he liked the cretes’ rugged lifestyle. Even their city life didn’t feel as confining and oppressive as cities back in Arcacia. He could happily live in the forest like this had the city been built on the ground instead.

  Arriving at Dragon Rest, they gathered their dragons to saddle them and load their supplies. Just before they finished, Jace spotted Lord Vallan and his men along with a couple of the supportive clan leaders.

  “We wanted to see you off,” Lord Vallan told Balen. “It pains me that you’re leaving on last night’s terms, though I understand your decision.”

  “It’s no reflection on you,” Balen assured him. “Regardless of last night, we’ve received great hospitality here. We just don’t want to cause any further discord among your people.”

  “Perhaps someday, Elôm willing, you can visit under better circumstances and receive a more fitting welcome.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Lord Vallan glanced around at the group. “I wish you all well and pray that things go as you hope in Bel-gard.” He lowered his voice a little. “I cannot guarantee it, but, should you convince the Dorlanders to join you in your fight, it may go a long way in convincing the other clan leaders to change their minds. Whatever the clans feel about Arcacia and Samara, I don’t believe any of them would turn against the giants. They’re our closest allies.”

  “Then we too will pray that they will be inclined to offer us aid.”

  The two lords shook hands, and Vallan bid the rest of them farewell.

  Ready to depart, everyone traded final goodbyes. Novan shared a hug with his son, and though both of them maintained a strong face, Jace understood how hard it was to part from family. Especially under uncertain circumstances. This was especially evident when Trenna gave Talas a tight hug. The girl wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions. Tears wet her eyes, but she kept up a bright smile.

  After saying goodbye to Kyrin and Kaden, she turned to Michael. Jace worked to hide a smile as they traded a rather awkward, but sweet farewell.

  At last, they all turned to their dragons and mounted. Calling goodbye, they each took to the sky, and Dragon Rest shrank behind them, soon disappearing amidst the trees. Putting the sun on their left, they turned south toward Dorland’s capital of Bel-gard.

  Anne welcomed another two days of sun with only one day of rain in between. It provided the perfect opportunity to take the horses out for a good ride. Not to mention an opportunity to make good on her promise to Trask to visit his father more often. She hadn’t seen him since the party a week ago.

  After changing into their riding clothes after lunch, Anne and Elanor met Elian outside, where their three horses were saddled and waiting. Anne took up her horse’s reins and pulled herself up into the saddle. The white mare danced in place a little, eager to set out. Anne didn’t blame her. It would be nice to go for a good run if the roads weren’t still so muddy. They would have to take it easy until things dried up a bit . . . if they dried up. Anne was beginning to wonder.

  They set off at a brisk walk. Anne angled
toward the forest road first, unable to keep from hoping Trask might just happen to meet them somewhere along the way. It depended on just how closely his men watched Marlton. As good as the sun felt, the shade was nice. All the moisture in the air created very humid weather. Even so, getting out was freeing from the heavy weight of uncertainties that hounded them lately. Anne even found herself enjoying a couple of good laughs with Elanor over purely silly things.

  An hour and a half after they left Marlton, they made their way to the edge of Landale. A little of Anne’s joy faded when they spotted Dagren’s guards ahead, but she was determined to keep up a cheerful attitude for Baron Grey. So, she pasted on a smile when they neared the guards, who called them to a halt.

  “What’s your business in the village?” one of the men questioned.

  “I am Lady Anne of Marlton and this is Lady Elanor. We’ve come to visit the baron.” Anne spoke sweetly despite her irritation with the situation. The more innocent they appeared the better.

  The man gave her a long look before shifting it to Elanor and Elian as if searching for something amiss. Anne resisted the urge to make sure the dagger she had in a sheath under her skirt remained well-hidden. Of course, it wouldn’t be very effective against armed soldiers, but she felt better lightly armed than not at all these days.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked after a moment. She put on her best innocent damsel act. “Surely you can’t suspect two young women of causing any trouble.”

  The guard met her eyes again before waving them through. “Carry on.”

  Anne nudged her horse forward again, and they rode into the village. She glanced at the surrounding fields along the way. They could hardly be called such—just large patches of standing water and mud. Only scattered clumps of sickly, waterlogged crops had broken through the brown sludge. Her father was right. If things didn’t change soon, it would be a hard winter for many people.

  They rode into the courtyard of Landale, and a smile broke across Anne’s face. Baron Grey stood out in the sun and appeared much healthier today. Though still too thin, his eyes were not so tired and held a twinkle, and color had returned to his face. Trask’s visit must have done a world of good. He offered a wide, welcoming smile as they halted the horses and dismounted.