Page 16 of The Prince

“The sentries won’t be a problem,” someone called as a figure stepped out of the forest and walked over to join them. Captain Grall and the two soldiers standing in their circle immediately dropped hands on their swords, but Braxton held out a hand to stop them from drawing.

“Ama. I was getting worried,” Braxton said to the person who joined them. “Ama is the informant who found the fortress. He’s one of our best,” Braxton explained to the rest of the group.

Braxton called Ama “he,” but Caro wouldn’t have been able to discern a gender on his own. Ama was thin and willowy, with lean muscle. Tall, but not too tall. Dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin, but otherwise utterly unremarkable. And yet, there was something about him. Caro studied Ama’s face, trying to figure it out, as Ama pointed to the parallel lines on the map.

“This side goes all the way into Namin. It’s wide enough to bring a cart through, but the road is unfinished; it’s so bumpy I don’t recommend bringing anything with wheels anywhere near it. They didn’t completely go into Toval yet on the other side, probably to conceal what they were doing, but the path ends only a mile from the edge of the woods. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to leave that last mile uncleared until after they’ve secured the towns in the foothills.”

Braxton bent closer to follow Ama’s finger, tracing along the lines on the map, and suddenly Caro saw it. They had the exact same jawline, the same bow to their lower lip. Except, Ama’s brow line and the rounded turn to his nose… Caro ran his finger down the length of his own nose, feeling the same turn. Ama had blood from both the royal line of Namin and Toval; Caro was certain of it. And Braxton didn’t know.

Ama looked up, saw Caro with his finger on his nose, and shook his head slightly. That head shake told Caro Ama didn’t want Braxton to know. Certainly, Caro could understand why Ama wouldn’t want Namin to learn he existed, but Braxton was different. Ama had to know that since he had been working as an informant for Braxton for who knew how long. Caro would keep his silence for now, but at some point, he would have to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Ama.

“Fen took his forces here,” Braxton continued, oblivious to the reason for Caro’s distraction. His finger went to the Tovalian side of the mountains, where Ama said the path Namin was cutting through would eventually terminate. “He’ll make good time once he reaches that road. If we leave at first light, there’s a fair chance we’ll be inside the fortress and able to open the gates for him when he arrives not too long after us.”

Captain Grall snorted. “Keep dreaming. Now tell me about those sentries,” he asked Ama.

“They’re lazy, and they’re hungry. Closer to the fortress, this game trail follows the bottom of an old ravine with very steep walls. They figure if they camp in the middle of the ravine, no one can get past them, so they’re sitting pretty as you please out in the open. If you don’t mind a bit of climbing in the morning, I can show you a way to go around them.”

“Is it past a spot that overlooks the fortress?” Grall asked. “That’s where we went to get the lay of the place originally, butit’s over a cliff face and we won’t be able to get inside from there.”

“That’s over here,” Ama said, pointing to a spot just off the game trail on the Toval side. “On this side”—he dropped his finger onto the Namin side—“is a mountain goat trail that goes almost to the fortress walls. I haven’t found any evidence they’re monitoring it, or that they even know it exists.”

“Sloppy, but I’ll take it. We’ll leave the horses here in the morning and go climbing.” Captain Grall rolled up the map and tucked it away. “Let’s go eat.” He strode off, his soldiers following in his wake. Caro, Braxton, and Ama remained behind.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Braxton told Ama.

“I won’t turn down a hot meal,” Ama replied, smiling. “Although I’m not really sure about chancing a fire so close to the fortress.” He joined them in walking over toward where food was being prepared.

“It’s smokeless wood, and we’ll be putting it out as soon as we’re done cooking,” Braxton explained. “I’ll see you get paid double your usual rate plus a bonus if you can get us into the fortress.”

“You’ll beggar yourself, then,” Ama joked, grinning at them. “That’s too easy. You’ll see.”

They joined the rest of the group for a quick dinner, then went to their bedrolls as the sun started to set, sending lengthy shadows through the trees. Caro was tired after a long day of riding, but he didn’t think he was any more tired than anyone else. Alina still stopped by as he was unzipping the bedroll. Her hands glowed green briefly as she used her magic to check him.

“Right as rain,” she said, patting him gently on the arm as the color faded away. “I’ll leave you to get some sleep.”

“How are you doing, Alina?” Caro asked, holding out a hand to stop her as she started to stand. “You didn’t have to come, you know. The army has their own healers on staff.”

Alina was at least ten to fifteen years older than almost everyone in their group and had spent a long time in the cushy life of the castle. This trip had to be difficult for her.

She smiled at him. “It’s bringing back happy memories, to be honest. I started my healing career doing just this. I knew what I was in for, and I’m doing just fine. Thank you for your concern though.” She finished standing, smiled at him again, and then walked off to wherever her bedroll was laid out. The growing gloom, exacerbated because they didn’t dare keep a fire lit, allowed her to vanish from view quickly.

Caro settled into his own bedroll, zipping it closed as the nights were nippy. He was located in the center of the camp, Braxton’s bedroll next to his, where they had the most protection. Shadows had lengthened into full darkness, and Caro was dozing by the time Braxton joined him. Caro rolled over and freed a hand as Braxton slid into his own bedroll. Braxton took it, squeezing tightly, and Caro didn’t have to imagine his reluctance as he let go so Caro could tuck his hand back into the warmth of the depths of his bedroll.

“Sleep well,” Braxton whispered, no doubt as aware as Caro that they were surrounded in all directions by eagerly listening ears and mouths all too happy to share juicy gossip.

“You too,” Caro whispered back, burrowing deeper into his bedroll so the tip of his nose was covered. In the dark, salacious recesses of Caro’s mind, he wanted Braxton to share a bedroll with him. Perhaps if they went camping sometime after this was all over, somewhere they didn’t have a dozen soldiers and a healer escorting them, that could happen. The memory of kissing Braxton was fleeting, but, oh so sweet, and it fueledCaro’s brain whenever they fell asleep so close to each other, yet still so far away. In the prior two weeks, they had both been so busy preparing for this trip they had only managed a bit of together time once, and only for about a half hour. Braxton tasted sweet, his lips soft, and his touch gentle, as if he thought Caro were a delicate piece of glass. Part of Caro desperately wanted more, to taste skin and feel firm muscle under his fingertips, and another part of Caro couldn’t stand the thought, shuddering at the idea of someone touching him. Even though Braxton wasn’t anything like the men who had beaten him—there was no comparison—just the thought of someone else’s hands coming near him was terrifying. Which Braxton somehow understood, pulling Caro close while still maintaining some distance.

Soon, Caro hoped, the scared part of him would learn Braxton wasn’t a threat. Every gentle touch, every soft caress, helped banish the lingering memories of pain and violence. Not that Caro thought those memories would magically vanish, but blunting the impact they had on his psyche with better ones would allow him to slowly return to a more normal existence. Like a simple goodnight while holding hands, which allowed Caro to finally still his thoughts and drift off into full sleep.

Chapter Eleven

THE FORTRESS WASstill being built. Caro squinted against the midmorning sun, trying to see more between the last of the colorful leaves clinging to the branches of trees looking more wintery than autumn. The reds, oranges, and mostly brown leaves hung between him and their destination, obscuring the fortress, while also hopefully helping keep them hidden. He thought they had been following a small path yesterday, but when Ama took them upward this morning, climbing into the burgeoning dawn overhead, Caro learned otherwise. The goat track Ama had discovered meandered between sturdy stones that allowed their party to climb to the top of the ridge, after which they had to practically crawl, clinging to the rocky surface and the bark of convenient trees and bushes. They couldn’t have made this climb in full winter, not without the admittedly limited leaves to conceal them from any watchers below. From what Caro had heard about Toval’s snow and ice, it would also probably be very slippery in a few short weeks. Thankfully, this far to the south was still autumn, if only barely.

The fortress below them was set in another clearing, this one larger than where they had left the horses and whatever supplies they couldn’t carry. The curtain wall was built, large cut stones set between natural rocky protrusions. Two gates sat ateither side, where the trees had been cut for the two cart paths Caro remembered from the map. The middle portions of the fortress weren’t finished. What appeared to be a large barracks building at least three stories high only had the first two floors built and the third under construction. Next to that was what appeared to be a very long stable, looking like it was going to eventually be two floors. If Caro had to guess, the second floor was likely for storage or where the servants would sleep. A third, smaller building, might be an office or mess hall, or possibly officers’ quarters, but it was only foundation and no walls, so Caro couldn’t make a more educated guess just yet. Right in the middle was a nine-foot by nine-foot, flat flagstone area. An uneducated observer might think it was a courtyard, stoned to keep it from turning to mud under booted feet, but Caro knew better. The space was a small arena for soldiers to fight without a proper coliseum. Disputes would end in death or severe injury in that square, all for the entertainment of others.

Caro looked away, not willing to dwell on negativity before a fight, instead trying to find some method of getting them inside. They couldn’t very well open the doors when Fen arrived if they were still camped above and outside the walls.

“Sloppy. Lazy,” Braxton grumbled under his breath, his voice soft so it wouldn’t echo. “I see why Ama brought us up here.” He looked around at the rest of the group who were all taking the same opportunity as Caro to rest after the morning’s climb. “They built the wall into the mountain, and didn’t add any height. From up here, we can easily climb down right into the bailey.”

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