Page 48 of The Duke and the Disciple

Teleria signaled the guards, who weren’t surprised to see them. Fezzan Castel marched straight to Aesylt as soon as they were inside.

“Ah, cub,” he said, with a crestfallen sigh. His eyes traveled toward Aleksy and then beyond the group. “This isn’t everyone, is it?”

“For now,” Rahn replied. The gatehouse was filled, shoulder to shoulder, with guards. Some wore the Wynter standard—a snarling wulf—the others the compass of the Castels. “You were expecting us.”

“Was hoping not to see you, but I feared I would anyway.” Fezzan traced his beard with a finger. “Drazhan and Imryll...”

“Are coming.” Rahn verified the door was locked, and of course it was. Bolted. Three men stood before it, forming a drawbridge. “I cannot say when.”

Screams filled the courtyard. None of them winced this time. Aesylt’s dark, hooded gaze was jarring with the way she was whispering sweet assurances against Aleksy’s reddened cheek.

Rahn continued. “We need to get them out of here before this escalates beyond our control.”

“And you, Scholar.” Fezzan sized him up. “You’re going with them.” He squinted one eye at Aesylt, who was trying to catch an outside view through the huddled mass of soldiers. “If she tries again what she did the other night, it won’t end well, you understand? There’s no sneaking about anymore, none that doesn’t get her in a world of trouble.”

Rahn nodded, his solemn gaze still locked on Aesylt across the room.

“Now Drazhan seems to harbor some inexplicable belief she’ll listen to you, even after she slipped out right under your nose.” Fezzan frowned in reproval. “So you’re to stay with her at all times. I’ve arranged for you two to take my sister’s apartments, second largest in Castellan. She joined the Ancestors in the sky last year and won’t be needing them. You think you can handle her this time?”

“I can hear you, Fez,” Aesylt said coolly, casting a look over her shoulder. “And I understand the situation. I don’t require the scholar’s diligence, or yours, to keep me from running off.”

The windows rattled in their frames. Mail and leather shimmered as the guards tightened their formation in response. Rahn caught Teleria’s anxious glance drilling him from the dense crowd of guards, but he had nothing to offer her worries. Fezzan and Drazhan might be unnaturally calm in the face of war, but that scared him more than a fevered response would.

“Good. Then I’ll say no more.” He offered her an apologetic smile and turned back toward Rahn. “I have to go join the steward now. My son, Uli, and our men will take things from here.” He checked his sword belt with a grunt. “If the Ancestors are truly with us, this will be over soon.”

Chapter11

We Can’t Keep Running

Aesylt hadn’t changed her path in hours. She moved from one end of the hearth to the other, then a quick dip behind the couch, followed by a window pass. Aleksy stayed calm as long as she didn’t stop.

Rahn and Teleria watched her like she were made of solid ice, impenetrable against the evening’s horrifying developments. She preferred it that way. In fact, she almost enjoyed the concern in their eyes, flickering now and then to fear. For her... of her. The specifics were unimportant. As long as they stayed away. As long as no onetouchedher... because if they did, she might shatter.

Failures were lessons. Gifts. Her father had taught her that, and the wisdom had transcended words. He’d been so hard on Hraz, the eldest, but his toughness came with grace. She remembered little about Ezra Wynter because most of those years had been swallowed by the stunning shock of unresolved grief, but she remembered that. She lived by it.

Until tonight, she’d been the only victim of her ill-fated choice to visit the Barynovs. With Drazhan and Imryll still unaccounted for, and no official reports from the battle they’d left behind at Fanghelm, she couldn’t know how far her transgression had rippled. Who it had swallowed in its destructive wake. Whether there’d be any atonement sufficient.

She’d spent enough time at Castellan over the years for it to feel like a second home, but there was nothing familiar about the cold room they’d shrouded in darkness for fear candles might draw attention to the apartments from the outside. No one on the opposing side knew they were there, but it wouldn’t take long to figure out the Wynters had fled to the home of Drazhan’s top man. If her brother had a plan beyond getting them through the night, he’d better reveal it soon.

“You’re being such a good boy,” Aesylt whispered into Aleksy’s mussed hair. His red curls caught the moonlight as they passed by the window. Imryll was a redhead, but Aesylt’s mother had also been one. None of her children had inherited it, only the grandchild she’d not meet. “Oma will be here soon. So will Ota. I can’t wait to tell them how brave their little wulfling is.”

“Dawn is breaking,” Teleria stated. No one responded. The guards stationed near the windows and door didn’t react at all.

Aesylt caught Rahn’s hard gaze as she approached the hearth. She broke it and kept walking.

Commotion sounded in the hall and then the door flung wide with an echoing thud. Imryll came marching in first, Drazhan right on her heels. Stormbringer was sheathed, but the steel Drazhan had crafted for his wife with his own hands was still swinging from hers.

“Thank the gods. Thank the gods,” Imryll cried. She thrust her sword hilt out to Drazhan and rushed across the room.

“Ancestors deliver us,” Aesylt whispered, cradling Aleksy tighter. She met Imryll halfway, passing her nephew off with reticence she hoped no one else noticed. Strength was the first thing Aesylt noticed of Imryll, blooming across every inch of her, but there was something deeply unsettling just beneath it.

Imryll crushed her son to her bosom with a long, quivering breath. Aesylt smiled because it felt like the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but her unease followed her as she went toward her brother.

“Don’t you even think of making something up to protect me.” She spoke before he could, her blood already boiling in anticipation of his coddling. “Hold nothing back, or I swear upon the names of every last Ancestor?—”

Drazhan’s hand shot out and cupped her cheek. With a tired smile, he brushed his thumb along her jaw. “We drove them back to the gates. Fanghelm is secure. My men have a decisive hold on the perimeter now. But it’s not safe for us. For you. No one was killed, but there were a couple dozen wounded. That’s all I can tell you, cub.Thank youfor coming here. For seeing the wisdom in taking Aleksy. You did well.”

Aesylt clamped her hand atop his and squeezed. “Good. Good, wulf.” Her emotion started as a tingle in her jaw. There was little relief in learning there’d been no mortalities, only a sharp ache of remorse that gripped her from head to toe. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for starting this. Anything you need from me, I’ll do.”

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