The main island on which the castle stood was a solid rock that stretched above the others. From her view, it looked like a sheer cliff rising up from the river. There would be no access that way either. The only possible entrance was the bridge or the air. And men did not fly.
She swallowed. It would be an impossible city to lay siege to. Escaping would be equally difficult. Not for the first time, she hoped the king of Edriel had not forgotten the long-ago bond of fealty he’d sworn to the Dawn Children elders. Even if he considered it only legend.
Villagers stepped aside, mouths motionless in small circles as they passed by. Several people swore and ran in the opposite direction.
Ilythra watched them astride Melior. This did not look good. She rubbed Ilydearta. “If there is a way,” she muttered.
Once they reached the guardhouse, a boy of perhaps sixteen summers stared at them, white-faced and mute. Another older man wearing the red and gold of the king’s guard stepped up.
“What business have you with Edriel?” he asked.
Arien rode forward. “We wish to speak to your king of an urgent matter.”
The man blinked and seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. “You are Siobani?”
“I am a Child of the Dawn.” Arien swept his hands at the ten riders with him. “As are these. Ilythra is human.”
The guard’s gaze found hers. “Ilythra. I have heard of you. You are a healer?”
“I am.” How had the man heard of her this far west?
The guard nodded. “I cannot permit your horses to travel any farther. There are stables here with plenty of room to board your animals.”
Arien gestured to the men, and as one, the riders dismounted. The guard’s eyes widened at the synchronized display. Ilythra hid a smile.
“Does it take this many Siobani to deliver a message?” the guard asked.
“No. But it is not wise to travel alone, either. These are dangerous times.”
The guard offered a small, incredulous smile. “You really think ten men and one woman could protect you from an army?”
“Am I in danger of having to test the theory?” Arien answered.
The man scratched at the stubble on his chin. “These are troubled times, but my grandmother told me stories of the Siobani. She said they were ever our friends and allies. If that be true, there is no danger here.”
“The Dawn Children hold the bond between the kings of Edriel and ourselves highly.”
The man examined them again. “A messenger has been sent to inform the king of your arrival.” He handed the Arien a sealed scroll. “This will get you past the next guardhouse. They will give you another to pass on. The seal changes daily. Do not attempt to use it at any other time.”
“May I leave one of my men to care for our horses?”
The man bristled. “We are quite competent to do so.”
“I do not doubt it. But our horses are skittish, and the scent of men makes them more so. It would save your grooms the trouble of a bite or kick.”
The man’s eyes narrowed but he nodded.
Arien waved his hand, and Gioni stepped to the side and spoke in rapid Siobani. The horses moved toward him.
Ilythra patted Melior’s head. “Be a good boy. I’ll be back.”
“Darhon will lead you.” The guard pointed an almost-grown boy waiting with wide eyes.
Arien nodded to the guard. “My thanks.”
The guard returned the gesture, and the Dawn Children followed Darhon through the walled fortress. Stables took up one entire side of the stone-encased guard post. In a squared-off area, several men trained boys with wooden swords. In another area, a horse was led through its paces by a wizened old man. Barracks stood on the other side, now empty save for a larger building, which, from the smoke issuing from the chimney, they could tell must have been a kitchen. The path divided, making room for a large garden with a sizable pond in the middle.
“Carved out of solid rock,” Darhon said and gestured toward the pond.
She turned her attention to the Edriel guard. He also wore the red and gold of the house of Edriel, though his face clearly held the last vestiges of childhood.
“We use it to water the garden and in times of war, it would mean life or death to those walled here,” he added.
An arched entrance grew before them. She took a deep breath as a gust of wind blew her hair back and brought the scent of fresh water and wet timber.
Arien brushed his hand with hers. A gesture no one else would notice, but it settled her stomach. Soon the sky opened up above and seemingly beneath them. The water’s roar grew deafening. She stepped onto the bridge. This was as opposite of being in the caves as she could imagine. A mixture of fear and excitement coursed through her blood.
She soon got used to the swaying of the bridge, and a smile crested her lips. Not much different than riding a horse. It was almost like flying. She turned to the west. The deep blue of the ocean was a mere line in the distance, but it brought a pang of melancholy. She wondered for the first time in a long time what had happened to their island. Had someone else landed there and taken over the house? When this was over, she was determined she would find it again, walk the familiar paths and breathe in the scents of her childhood.
She turned around as the bridge began to arch down once more. When this was over. She promised herself.
They traveled across each of the bridges with similar routines in every guardhouse until they reached the last bridge. The guard asked to see their seal, and they handed it to him. Each of the fortresses had varied in size in relation to the island. Only the first and last had horses, although a few donkeys had munched on grass on one of the inner islands. The mood of the last guardhouse seemed to be more sober than the previous, and more guards mingled on the grounds. Ilythra hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. After Arien spoke with the guardsman, they set across the last bridge. This one didn’t arch down into a city but continued up to a final guardhouse high on the cliffs but still far below the castle.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped onto solid ground. One of the Elderborn muttered something behind her, and Ilythra glanced over Arien’s shoulder to see a crowd of people had gathered near an arched entrance. Word must have spread of their arrival. Men wearing the red and gold of the castle guard neared, but a gasp in the crowd behind them slowed their step. The people dropped to their knees and the guards stood at attention, a hand on each breast.
Ilythra turned to see a man approach, riding a bay stallion. From the people’s reaction, he was obviously royalty. But why would the king not wait for them at the castle? Her stomach twisted. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what. Her hand itched for her blade. She took a deep breath and looked around. More than a dozen guards stood at attention, and commoners kneeled by the side of the road. It didn’t feel like an ambush, but the sense of danger wouldn’t fade.
As the rider approached, she saw him more clearly. His dark blond hair was caught back from his face in a low queue. He sat straight in the saddle, and his expression bore the stern countenance of a ruler. As he observed them, emotion flittered behind his gaze but she could not tell why. “Joran, prepare the guardhouse for our guests,” he said as he dismounted.
One of the men looked slightly startled but nodded. “Yes, your highness.”
Not the king. A prince? Arien stepped forward, arm extended in the manner of humans. The prince didn’t hesitate but took the hand and pulled Arien closer to kiss his cheek in the manner of the Dawn Children. If Arien was surprised, he didn’t show it.
The prince whispered something in Arien’s ear then released him from the embrace.
Ilythra felt Arien tense, but the healer smiled.
“Welcome, friend. I am Ryliann, prince of Edriel and heir to the throne.” His voice was deep and rich, but she
thought maybe he spoke louder than necessary. It was possible he was slightly deaf. “My father is saddened he could not meet you first, but he is finishing up a matter that cannot wait. I apologize,” the prince continued.
“It is good that a prince of Edriel remembers his allies. There is no need for forgiveness.” Arien inclined his head.
“You are weary after the crossing and you have a lady with you.” Ryliann turned his green gaze to Ilythra. “Please, let me offer you refreshment before you make the long journey to the castle.”
If possible, the last statement was even louder than the first. She looked at the prince. Hard of hearing, or someone who just liked the sound of his voice?
The prince led them to a nearby building. He walked side by side with Arien, and the rest of their party followed. Ilythra hung back a little. Every instinct she had flared to life. Something was not right. She lingered a moment before following Arien and the prince. She caught her breath when nothing happened inside the dim room. Several trestle tables had been laid out with breads, cheeses and wine. A bowl stood to one side of the food.
“For washing.” Ryliann pointed it out, smiling at her. She realized he’d indicated she was to wash first.
A flash of annoyance warred with her desire to rinse some of the salt breeze off her face. Did he think she was some frail woman to be pampered? She’d eaten in much more primitive conditions. The prince was soft. She bet he didn’t even have calluses on his hands.
She clenched her jaw and dipped her hands into the warm water. Several cloths were stacked near the bowl. She took the top one and washed her face and dried her hands, then moved aside to let the rest of the warriors do the same.
Arien and Ryliann were engaged in a whispered conversation. She caught Arien’s eye, and he gestured for her to approach.
Ryliann looked slightly surprised by her inclusion, but she tried not to let it bother her. He was probably raised where women were to be treated like delicate flowers, protected and cherished but not taken seriously.
The look on Arien’s face sobered her. “What is it?”
Ryliann turned to her. “This is a trap. My father has ordered your arrest. The warrant has not yet made it out of the castle, but we do not have time. These men were to lead you up and into the castle guard.”
She studied the prince’s earnest green eyes. “Why aren’t you letting them?”
Anguish crested the prince’s face. “Because my father is wrong. He is listening to counsel that is unwise and...” He shook his head. His shoulders rose and fell.
Ilythra turned to Arien. “Counsel?”
Arien shrugged. “Do you sense it?”
“I would have told you immediately. You know that.”
“I don’t either,” Arien confirmed.
The prince’s face narrowed in confusion. “Do you know of my father’s counselor?”
“What’s his name?” Ilythra asked.
“Brishne.”
Arien shrugged. “I have not heard that name in my lifetime, but it matters little.” He turned to Ilythra. “I hadn’t heard the name ‘Bredych’ until you spoke it.”
The prince waved his hand in the air. “I will get you out, but you must not linger. It’s too dangerous.”
Arien faced Ilythra. “The situation among the humans is graver than we thought.”
Fear coursed through her veins. “What has happened?”
The prince and Arien exchanged a look. “I will tell you on the way,” Arien said.
Ilythra fought an irrational jealousy. She’d been left out of the conversation intentionally.
Arien spoke a few words in Siobani. The men stood from the tables or moved away from the water bowl.
Ryliann stepped out of the door. “I understand. The king will be disappointed, but I shall give him your message.” Quieter, he turned to Arien. “Follow my lead.”
They walked back toward the bridge. A few castle guards looked at him strangely, but none questioned him.
“The Siobani has had an urgent message that he is needed home at once,” the prince spoke loudly.
Confusion creased the guard’s forehead, but he stepped aside.
Ryliann continued to walk at a fast pace toward the bridge. “The least I can do is walk you through to the mainland,” he said in a voice that would carry.
“They will know no message has come,” Ilythra whispered. “They’d have seen it.” This close to the prince, she caught a scent of spices, leather and horse.
Ryliann smiled and his green eyes sparkled. “There are many stories told of the Siobani. Some say you can disappear at will.” He leveled his gaze. “Some say you speak mind to mind even across vast distances and have no need for written messages.”
Despite herself, Ilythra smiled. He was counting on superstition to aid their escape. She thought back to the Rugian’s belief that she was Thira. She’d have done the same in his place. Her respect for the soft-soled prince rose, but only a little.
They quickly moved through the guard posts. On the last bridge, the prince stared toward the ocean and stopped. “Do you see the white water there?”
Ilythra followed his gaze. In the distance, white triangles of water shone above the vivid blue. Occasionally one would seem to explode into the heavens. “What is it?”
He turned to her and he seemed suddenly less like a pampered prince and more like a warrior. His scent mingled with the salty air and twisted something low in her belly. She blinked. His eyes were very green.
He took a deep breath and his irises expanded slightly. “They call it Dragon’s Teeth. It is a row of sharp, jagged rocks. Even if a ship were to make it upstream from the ocean, a daunting task, I assure you, they must pass through those rocks. One misstep, one miscalculated wave, and you’ll be dashed against the teeth and into the maw of the dragon.” His gaze had distanced. He seemed to come to himself and shook his shoulders slightly. “Another time it would be my privilege to show you the kingdom of Edriel, Lady Ilythra, but now I must get you and your party to safety.”
His manner was genteel and gracious, but it felt odd. She was neither highborn nor royalty. Was he mocking her? She was tempted to scoff but when he stepped away, she was suddenly aware that it had been warm next to him. The cold breeze stole across her skin and she had a sudden impulse to step close to the prince again. She shook her head and followed the group.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped into the warmth of the stables and Melior whickered a welcome, but the tightening in her chest wouldn’t lessen. Edriel was not an ally, no matter the prince’s action. They were alone against Bredych.
Chapter Eleven
“So what happened?” The trail had grown steep enough that they slowed the horses to a fast walk. Ilythra had reached the end of her patience. She glanced behind them. The trail remained empty. So far there had been no sign of pursuit, but she knew Arien would feel better once they’d reached camp.
Arien turned toward her, his face pensive. “What did you think of the prince?”
She shrugged. “Who cares about the prince? What happened?”
“I would like your impression of him to see if it coincided with mine,” he replied evenly.
She breathed in then blew out her frustration. “Typical prince, I guess. I’ve met a few. Usually privileged, soft hands.” She hesitated. Maybe she was being unfair. “He took a big risk warning us. I doubt his father will be happy about it.”
“He showed remarkable courage. I offered to let him come with us, but he would not leave his men behind. He said he owed it to his father and Edriel to prevent the king from cutting off his tongue to spite his stomach.”
“Okay, so he’s a good guy. Now tell me, what happened?” she repeated. “What did you talk about?”
“You know Bredych moved against
the villages in the south, sending the sea creatures to destroy their wave rider boats.”
Ilythra nodded.
“Well, the Creeians have been attacking the wave rider villages almost nonstop for over a year. They petitioned Edriel for help, and so far, the king has refused. According to the prince, the king is instead preparing for an attack by the Dawn Children.”
“What?” Stunned disbelief blocked Arien’s next words.
“...that the Dawn Children have conquered the east. First attacking Greton and Elston and now turning against our allies in Isolden. The king of Edriel gathers an army, but against us, not for us.” Arien took a deep breath. “Not only that, lordships have been changing hands at a remarkable rate. Anyone who might oppose the king’s actions has fallen ill or died in some kind of accident. Our prince has been doing some research, and neighboring kingdoms have fallen under the same fate.”
“But...” Ilythra stared into the distance. A weathered tree grew almost perpendicular to the road, its trunk and branches gnarled and twisted, the leaves windblown. “That’s ridiculous. How can that not raise some kind of alarm? How could Bredych do all of that?” she finished, but her words had no energy.
“Slowly and over time. He’s placed the pieces in motion. Who keeps track of that kind of thing? Each death was explainable, and there is no obvious reason to link them.” Arien shook his head.
She studied his pensive features. “You think Bredych counsels the king of Edriel?”
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