A knot formed in William’s previously-hungry stomach. He took Liam’s arm and walked a few yards from the tents to gain a bit more privacy for their conversation. “Who’s questioning him?”
“Scerle.”
William winced. Scerle had quite a reputation as an interrogator. “How long?”
“Since late this morning. They took a break for lunch, but he’s been in there all afternoon.” Liam’s face contorted in his distress.
William laid his hand on his shoulder to reassure him. Liam had always been averse to cruelty—with good reason. Before he could speak, Marcus called behind them, and they looked toward the cottage. William’s oldest son approached and saluted. Though he appeared as surprised as Liam had been, he did not question his father’s presence.
“I hear you have a man in custody.” William took over the situation.
Marcus nodded and maintained his manner as a soldier. “We believe he’s closely associated with Taan. We’ve been questioning him for information concerning the crete.”
William did not speak for a long moment, though it was apparent Marcus waited for confirmation of his actions. Finally, William asked, “Has he said anything?” He had to handle this carefully, lest his sympathies be revealed.
“No.”
“May I see him?”
Marcus gave a quick nod and motioned to the cottage. “He’s inside.”
William strode across the fire- and torch-lit distance and up to the open door, where he stopped to take in the scene. The prisoner sat in a chair in the middle of the room, with his hands bound behind him. His face showed bruising and some swelling, and a ribbon of blood trailed down his chin and neck. The most serious injury appeared to be the bloodied gash in his shoulder. Scerle had no doubt exploited that to the greatest possible extent. Still, the prisoner could have fared worse. Marcus must have given Scerle limitations. William found some small measure of relief in this.
His eyes now switched to the interrogator. Scerle sat in another chair in front of the prisoner. He had a cup of water in his hand and took a long drink, loudly breathing his appreciation. With slow, deliberate movements, he let the remaining water trickle out onto the floor in front of the prisoner.
“You thirsty? Well, you better start talking if you want a drink.”
William clenched his fists and fought to keep the uproar of injustice and concern for the prisoner carefully concealed.
The man watched the last of the water dribble away, and then set his eyes on some object across the room. Despite the stubborn set to his jaw, he looked spent. Even if the physical abuse wasn’t as great as it could have been, hours of questions had to have worn him down. However, his tired eyes didn’t show defeat, but solid, steely determination that stirred William’s admiration.
He stepped into the cabin, and Marcus followed.
“Just give him some water. We’re not barbarians,” William commanded.
Scerle jumped to his feet, quickly remembering to salute, but his expression was anything but respectful. “We can’t give him water. I’ve been working on him all day. I can break him, but not if you give him water and strengthen him.”
William didn’t see that happening. Water or not, the man wouldn’t break—not if he had family to protect. His mind and body might be wearing down, but his will wasn’t. Strange that Scerle could not see that after all the interrogations he’d conducted. But maybe he was too confident, stubborn, and eager to inflict pain.
The interrogator’s cold eyes jumped to Marcus, his commanding officer. William glanced at his son. Marcus hesitated, but then said, “The captain is right; we’re not barbarians. Give him a little water.”
“With respect, sir, I don’t believe that’s wise.”
Marcus frowned, and his voice echoed his authority. “A little won’t make much difference.”
The man scowled and muttered a curse under his breath. William made a mental note to warn Marcus to keep a tight rein on him. Though his son made an excellent captain, he was still very young, and the older men like Scerle were bound to test their limits. He waited a moment for the man to follow orders, but he remained stubbornly in place. Losing patience, William snatched the cup from him and drew water from a nearby bucket. He started to fill the cup, but stopped halfway so he wouldn’t undermine Marcus’s orders.
He turned to the prisoner and put the cup to his lips to let him drink. When the last drop was drained, the man looked up at him, and his deep blue eyes harbored mistrust, but also a guarded, unspoken thank-you. If only William could offer more in the way of compassion, or at least let him know they were of the same faith and that he wasn’t alone here.
William set the empty cup on the table and motioned to Marcus as he stepped back outside. Once it was just the two of them, he faced his son. “I don’t think you’ll get anything from him. He looks pretty set on silence to me.”
Marcus sighed and rubbed his neck as weariness crumbled the strong, professional mask he’d been wearing. William could understand the intense pressure he was under to fulfill his first real mission. “I don’t think so either. Scerle won’t want to give it up, though.”
William looked him in the eyes. “It’s your call, Marcus.”
“I know.” He stared out at camp, though his gaze was unfocused as his mind contemplated other things. William watched him, praying. He didn’t know what he should pray exactly—only that his son would choose to hold off further interrogation for now.
A moment later, Marcus’s expression changed, hardening in the way it did when he believed he was doing the right thing but felt conflicted. “The General would order us to press on. This is what he sent us for. We need to find out where the crete is hiding . . . any way we can.”
Set on his decision, Marcus turned into the cottage again, and William’s heart sank. How he longed to call his son back, to sit down with him, and explain things and have him understand. But it couldn’t be. From the time he was a boy, Marcus’s loyalties had been divided. In the end, it was always the General who had the strongest influence on him—holding him to his duties, no matter what the cost may be.
His spirit burdened, William turned and walked away from camp. He needed to pray and, for that, he sought solitude. Leaving the glow of campfires behind him, he walked into the rocky darkness of the Sinnai slopes. With camp far behind him, he stopped and stared up at the night sky now riddled with pinpricks of light.
He drew a deep breath. Guide me, Lord. Show me how to reach my sons before it’s too late. And show me how I might aid this prisoner. I have no doubt he’s a child of Yours. If there’s anything I can do for him—
A shadow flashed at the corner of his vision. Before he could react, a strong arm wrapped around him and a razor edge caught against his throat.
Kyrin bit down hard on a yawn that escaped anyway. The excitement of the last few days had drained her, yet, in a way, she enjoyed being out and about and seeing more of Ilyon. She’d spent too much of her life isolated in Valcré. Still, it didn’t distract her from what the group had yet to face, particularly Timothy. To see him sitting and waiting anxiously at the fire stirred up all the fear and heartache stored with her memories of when Sir Richard had held Kaden captive. As she loosed the tie to her bedroll and rolled out the blankets next to Kaden’s things, she prayed for Timothy and his brother. There was nothing worse than sitting helpless when a family member was in danger. She picked up the top blanket to shake it out when a stir of commotion sounded behind her.
“Captain!” It was Glynn’s voice. “We’ve captured one of the soldiers!”
Kyrin looked over her shoulder as the three cretes entered camp. Talas and Falcor led a man in a black and gold uniform between them. Her breath caught in her chest, and the blanket dropped right from her hands. “Father!”
She rushed toward him, but Darq snagged her by the arm and cast a suspicious look at their prisoner. Kyrin tugged against his hold, her heart nearly bursting with impatience. “It’s all right; h
e’s my father.”
But Darq wasn’t convinced. “How do we know we can trust him?”
“Because I’m a follower of Elôm,” William told him calmly.
The suspicion cleared, and Darq finally released his hold as he ordered Talas, “Cut him loose.”
Talas obeyed immediately. As soon as her father’s arms were free, Kyrin ran into them. He squeezed her tightly, and then opened one arm to pull Kaden in as he joined them. Holding them both, he breathed near Kyrin’s ear, “It’s so good to see you two.”
“I thought we might never see you again.” Thickness constricted Kyrin’s throat. Being branded a traitor had destroyed any hope of a reunion with her family before now. Thank You, Elôm!
Their father held them a moment more before looking into their smiling faces. “Well, here I am.”
“I saw Marcus in town,” Kyrin said, “but I didn’t know you were here too.”
“I actually just rode in about an hour ago. I stepped outside of camp for some time to pray and met your friends.” He nodded to Talas.
The crete gave him a contrite smile. “Sorry about the knife.”
William waved the apology off. “No harm done. If you hadn’t brought me here, I would never have seen these two.”
Kyrin took her father’s hand. His skin was cold against hers. “Come by the fire. I want to introduce you to everyone.”
He followed her and warmed up near the flames as she and Kaden introduced him to their friends. Kyrin was especially pleased to introduce Jace. He hung back in the shadows, but she beckoned him closer. He seemed a bit reluctant—intimidated, possibly—but he accepted her father’s greeting and then quietly stepped back again. If only Kyrin had time to tell her father more about their friendship and how much Jace meant to her.
After greeting everyone, William’s eyes settled on Josan. “I assume you’re the crete my son is searching for.”
“Yes, though Taan is just the name of my clan. It kept us safe for a while, but no longer, I’m afraid.”
Timothy stepped up beside him, his eyes hungry for information. “You said you just arrived, but did you see my brother? We believe he was taken captive.”
“I did,” William answered, and Kyrin caught the hesitation in his voice.
Timothy swallowed. As much as he wanted information, it would no doubt be difficult for him to hear. “Is he all right?”
“They’ve been questioning him concerning your whereabouts.” William paused, but continued with the truth, “They’ve been rough on him, though not as much as they could be. From what I saw, he looks to have a very stubborn streak of determination.”
Timothy gave a sad smile. “That he does.”
Kyrin looked up at her father as her sympathy for Timothy came on strongly again. “Do you think there’s any way to rescue him?”
Before he could answer, Glynn spoke. “That was the reason we took Captain Altair captive. We had thought we could trade him for Aaron.”
“Perhaps we still can,” Darq said thoughtfully. His eyes rested on William. “If you are willing, of course.”
“I’m willing.”
“We’ll go down with the dragons. That will give us the advantage and help ensure the trade goes smoothly. We have no desire to harm anyone, but they don’t know that. We just need to determine the best time to make our move.”
“If I were you, I’d move soon,” William told them. “When I left, they were about to start another round of questioning, and I think this time it’ll be rougher.”
Darq nodded. “Then we’ll leave immediately.” He paused when his eyes came to Kyrin and Kaden. “Unless you two don’t wish for your brother to see you.”
“We could go, but keep to the shadows,” Kyrin suggested.
“Right then; we’ll saddle up.”
Most of the group turned toward the dragons, but a quiet voice stopped Kyrin. “I’ll saddle Ivoris for you.”
She looked up at Jace, and a smile broke out. “Thank you.”
He nodded and glanced once at her father, before ducking his head as if embarrassed and walking away to join the others. Trev offered to saddle Exsis, which left Kyrin, her brother, and father alone at the edge of the fire.
Kyrin faced him and drew a deep breath as her chest tightened up. “I wish you could stay longer.” Though this short time was more than she could have hoped for, she wasn’t ready for goodbye when they had no assurances of when they might meet again.
“So do I,” he replied. “Maybe there will be a chance to see you once more before you leave.”
Kyrin gave an eager nod. “We’ll ask Captain Darq what our plans are once we have Aaron. Then we can figure out where to meet you to say goodbye.” Anything to put it off for just a bit longer.
“We’ll do that. Now, while we have a little time, why don’t you tell me about these last few months. Last I heard concerning the two of you was that you’d escaped. No further details.”
In the next several minutes, Kyrin and Kaden took turns briefly recapping the events that had led up to settling in Landale. They told him a little about camp and their goals there, but it wasn’t long before the others were finishing.
The cretes hadn’t even bothered to saddle their dragons. Instead, they all stood talking with Josan. When Trask’s group had finished, they gathered at the fire again, where Darq stepped forward.
“Captain Altair, before we go, there’s a matter we wish to discuss with you.”
“Yes?”
Darq glanced at Josan, who nodded his approval, and then asked, “Could you get into Auréa Palace?”
Kyrin’s heart missed a beat, and an objection rose up inside her, but she bit her lip to keep it contained. She couldn’t make her father’s decisions for him, as much as she hated where she knew this conversation would go.
He gave a slow nod. “If I had a reason to seek an audience with the emperor or one of his advisors. Why?”
“If you’d be willing to further aid us, we have need of someone to retrieve certain items from the palace library.”
“Go on.”
“There’s a complete collection of the King’s Scrolls disguised as crete family histories hidden there.”
William’s brows rose, mirroring Kyrin’s initial reaction to the news, but he let Darq continue.
“We’d like to return the Scrolls to Josan so he can complete his copies. We also believe they would be safer in Dorland, at least for the time being. It’s possible they’re one of the last complete collections in Arcacia. Obviously, you understand the risk involved in this, so it’s entirely your choice.”
William folded his arms and considered it. Kyrin waited, gauging his expression. Her thudding pulse gave away her hope that he would decline and stay far away from the emperor. The memories of Daican’s deceptive smile and smooth words still gave her chills. Then again, her father’s cover of loyalty was intact, and the emperor would have no reason to suspect him. If only it brought her comfort.
“I can try,” William decided after another moment.
Kyrin let out a quiet sigh and sent up a prayer for his safety.
Darq was pleased. “We thank you. Your help is much appreciated.”
“I understand the importance of protecting the Scrolls, and their ability to encourage and empower the followers of Elôm,” William said. “I believe now is the time we’re most in need of them. If copies can be made and distributed, it will offer hope as people begin to despair.”
“Well said,” Josan replied. “People do indeed need hope, as well as guidance, and Elôm’s Word is the greatest source of that. It is also a source of strength; not only in difficult times, but in our daily lives.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Any idea how you’ll get into the palace?” Darq asked.
“Emperor Daican will want a report on what’s happened here,” William answered. “I can be the one to bring that information and, while I’m there, find the Scrolls.”
“How soo
n can you leave?”
“Once you have Aaron, there won’t be much left for my son and his men to do. I’ll offer to ride to Valcré in the morning and explain the situation to the emperor.”
“We’ll accompany you. Unseen of course. We can discuss any further details once we camp tomorrow night.”
With these plans established, they turned to the dragons. Along the way, William said to Kyrin and Kaden, “Looks like we’ll see more of each other after all.”
Despite her uneasiness concerning the emperor and the danger, Kyrin’s smile was quick to surface. She would savor every moment they had together in the next couple of days. Only Elôm knew when they might have the chance again.
At the dragons, Kaden offered to let Timothy ride with him while Kyrin took their father. In moments, everyone but Josan had mounted.
Kyrin looked over her shoulder at her father. “Are you ready for this?”
“Not quite what I’m used to, but this might be the only chance I’ll ever get to fly. I always wanted to when I was a boy.”
Kyrin chuckled. “So that’s where Kaden gets it from. You should’ve seen his face when we heard we’d be getting dragons.”
Just before they took to the sky, Darq told Trask and his group, “Stick with me. Glynn and the others will announce our arrival.”
With Trask’s nod of understanding, the cretes commanded their dragons into the air and the others followed.
“Hang on,” Kyrin told her father right before Ivoris launched herself upward.
The cold night air blasted Kyrin’s face and sent a shiver through her body, but it was invigorating and erased all remnants of sleepiness. The sky widened into a sparkling black canopy above them. They rose above the rocky slopes that hid their camp, and lights twinkled ahead of them. Even from here, the fires from Marcus’s camp were clearly visible. Following Darq’s lead, they flew straight for it.
They approached the area rapidly, and when they drew close, Talas, Glynn, Falcor, and Leetra sped ahead of the others. Right as they reached the camp, all four dragons released an ear-splitting roar. Another shiver tingled through Kyrin. The dragons circled camp, and a frenzy of movement erupted below them. Just before joining the rest of the group, Storm and Glynn’s dragon opened their mouths and spewed out steady streams of fire onto the open ground, several yards from the edge of the soldiers’ camp.
The King's Scrolls Page 13