Page 144 of Fate Breaker

And slipping away, sand through his fingers.

He dreaded the second they would end.

It was the shouts of the innkeeper one morning that sent them both rolling from their bed, scrambling for boots and clothes. Garion slipped out first, his rapier belted into place, his fingers lazy on the Amhara dagger. He moved like water, dancing out into the hall before Charlie had a shirt over his head.

Cursing, he followed, grabbing for his own sword as an afterthought. Charlie doubted he would be much use against bandits or pirates or whatever else caused such a commotion, but knew better than to walk into a fight empty-handed.

He barreled down the narrow stairs to the common room, only to find Garion already with the innkeeper. The old man was white-faced, stumbling over his words, one finger shaking as he pointed out toward the street.

After more than a week at the inn, Charlie had never seen the man so fearful, let alone at such a loss for words.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Garion said, soothing the old innkeeper as he would a spooked animal.

It seemed to work a little. The old man pointed again, his long white beard waggling.

“Invasion,” he forced out, barely a hiss. “Invasion.”

Charlie’s insides turned to ice.

Garion’s soft manner dropped away, his mask of encouraging calm shattered. His dark brow furrowed, his eyes black and sharp. Without a word, he went to the door to the street and yanked it open, stepping out into the rare sunlight.

Charlie followed, trembling. His mind whirled, a tangle of thoughts.Grab our things, get the horses, make for the hills.But he did none of them, following Garion instead.

Outside the tavern, the street turned and angled up a slight hill, offering a clear view across the harbor and out into the Auroran Ocean. Charlie had to shade his eyes, squinting as he looked westward into the coastal hills, toward the border with Madrence.

He expected the flash of sun on steel. The gleam of armor and swords, the thunder of a marching legion. His throat tightened as he braced for the sight of a green flag and a golden lion. Or worse, a prince all in red, a bloody wizard at his side.

To his surprise, there was nothing but the mountains, the forested slopes fading to stone and snow.

Then Garion touched him, slipping a hand under his chin. Gently, he directed Charlie’s gaze away from the west, and out to frigid ocean.

But for Garion’s hand, Charlie feared his jaw might drop clean off.

The horizon filled with sails, their flags caught in the still blustering wind, one unfurling after the other.

Tears stung Charlie’s eyes as he studied them one by one, their flags unmistakable.

28

The River

Erida

She was half-dressed by the time Taristan rolled over, blinking forcefully, his hair a red mess across one side of his face. He sat up slowly, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him as he surveyed the commandeered bedchamber. Erida watched him from the adjoining room, her arms spread wide as her servants clothed her.

In the Konrada, they had smaller apartments, forcing Taristan into closer proximity with the Queen’s dizzying array of attendants. His disdain for them was well known, and impossible to overlook. As he rose for the day, the maids quickened their pace.

Jeweled rings slid onto Erida’s fingers, a ruby bracelet over one wrist. She chose a gray gown from the few available, an artwork of pale silver brocade over dove silk. The maids braided her hair last, weaving together a great many strands to form a long plait down her back. It felt like a rope swinging between her shoulder blades.

“A little early for full battledress.”

Taristan leaned against the doorframe, naked to the waist, his breeches belted low over bare skin. If he meant to frighten the maids, hesucceeded. Their eyes shot to the floor. Erida smirked over their heads and pulled out of their grasp.

She raised an eyebrow at Taristan’s appearance, from his white-veined chest to his bare feet. “Shall I call for your manservants?”

“Is that a threat?” he answered roughly.

“That will be enough,” she said, dismissing her maids with a curt wave.

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