Page 3 of The Last of the Dark Lords

“Who says you can’t take a night off?” Jelenna’s tone stayed teasing, but I could tell she was frustrated with me. “A little carousing and they’ll see that you’re an actual person.”

“Absolutely not.” My voice was getting louder. I tried to calm myself. Jelenna had to be honest about what she thought. It was essential to our relationship, as friends and officers.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t lose control around them. They need a steady-eyed leader, not a sloppy drunk.”

She shook her head. “If you let them see that you’re human, not one of them would think it made you less of the commander that you are.”

“A commanding officer doesn’t fraternize. It’s as simple as that.”

“Skye—”

“Any word from the scouts?”

Jelenna let out a grunt of exasperation at my attempt to change the subject, but I knew she would let it go. I had made up my mind. She might call it stubborn, but I was certain about some things. More arguing wouldn’t do her any good.

“I haven’t heard anything from them,” she said, “but your brother would know for sure.”

I stopped and let out a sigh. I didn’t say anything, but my face must have read volumes.

Jelenna gave me a pitying look. “Yes, he’s an ass, you can say it.”

“That may be,” I replied half-heartedly. “But he is my brother. Family is the most important bond. And he will be Prime of Greatfalls one day, when Grandmother moves on.”

It was hard to prize that familial bond when Athard was everything Jelenna was not: arrogant, pretentious, and utterly lacking a sense of humor. Which I supposed I’d been accused of occasionally, but he was worse.

Jelenna pressed her lips together, and then spoke. “May that not be for decades to come.”

“Hopefully by then we’ll have come to some sort of peace,” I said. “It won’t do to have the Prime of Greatfalls and the Commander of the Archers at each other’s throats.”

My stomach tightened with anxiety as the words left my mouth. Once he was in charge, Athard wouldn’t hesitate to pull rank. I was sure of it. I was glad that he would be Prime and not me, because I sure as hell didn’t want to rule. Managing the Archers was more than enough. But I also didn’t want to kowtow to his ego and poor decisions.

Jelenna winked at me. “I’ll say a prayer to Vazzart tonight for your grandmother’s long life.”

We reached the end of the dam and the flat plain of the outer fortifications, the path curving around the edges of Safehold reservoir. The trees grew more dense as we made our way to Prime Hall. Grandmother would be there as would Athard, but I could put up with him to find out if the scouts had returned.

The way was smoothed with years of footfall, curving through the groves of oak and cedar until it reached the top of a mound where the hall stood. A sturdy building of intricate carved wood, Prime Hall had been there for generations, housing the leading family of Greatfalls. For the last seven generations that had been the Adfelds. My family.

As I entered the building, I felt the weight of those generations on my shoulders. As commander of the Archers, it was my duty to keepsafe the history and lineage of Greatfalls. Prime Hall was a symbol of that history.

Jelenna fell back as I entered the main meeting area, where my grandmother leaned over a rectangular table, poring over maps and documents, her long silver hair pulled back into a braid. Although quite short, she exuded a sense of calm power that set everyone at ease.

Off to her side stood my brother Athard, leaning against a wall with a bored expression on his face. His blonde hair fell over his eyes like a petulant teenager’s, and he wore a cape that was embroidered in gold. It was ostentatious and ridiculous, but he had it made for himself several years ago, and he was never without it. His hand rested on the rapier strapped to his side.

The weapon was an unusual choice in Greatfalls, where most were trained in archery and defensive hand-to-hand combat with daggers. Athard had always been a terrible shot, and my own facility with the bow enraged him. That didn’t explain his choice of a weapon mostly associated with the long-dead aristocracy of Fyr, but I’d given up trying to make sense of my brother.

“Grandmother.” I bowed my head. Out of the corner of my eye, Jelenna sank to her knees. “Athard.” I did my best to hide my disdain as I spoke my brother’s name.

“I see you’re back from calming your unruly troops.” His words dripped with sullen sarcasm. “I hope we won’t have any more trouble from them.”

My shoulders tensed at his words. “The Archers are the backbone of Greatfalls. They deserve to know they are valued, especially when so much is uncertain.”

“Weare the backbone of Greatfalls.” He gestured to Grandmother and himself. “Your loyalty is to the family. We shouldn't have to coddle the Archers like toddlers with toy bows and arrows.”

Harsh words sprang to the tip of my tongue when Grandmother raised her hand to silence us.

“Enough, Athard.”

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