Page 10 of The Threadbare Queen

Luc’s gaze met Dak’s, and his friend gave a tiny shake of his head.

Kym caught the exchange, and blew out a breath. “You know the Kassians withdrew most of their forces on the Jatan border to try and crush you before you reached Fernwell?”

Luc nodded.

“For the first week after they left, the Jatan were just grateful for the reprieve. I think they were on the verge of collapse. But they slowly realised the Kassian forces were gone for good, not just licking their wounds nearby.”

Dak looked worried. “Kym says they’ve started to encroach on Kassia.”

Kym nodded. “They have. You need to decide how much you’re comfortable with them taking, because I watched them for the first two days of their advancement, and they didn’t look like they were stopping.”

“You said they were near defeat when the Herald moved his army away to take on the Rising Wave?” Luc wondered why they were being so bold, if so. An army on its last legs was not wise to take territory it couldn’t defend.

Kym nodded. “I think they’ve lost a lot of their experienced warriors, and perhaps the older ones who are left are hungry for revenge, and there are some young, green leaders promoted out of necessity. They’re moving way beyond their capability to defend their position, but they’re also getting excited about their progress. If you don’t nip it in the bud, they’re going to start feeling like the bits they’ve taken are really theirs to take.” She fidgeted, and then looked down.

“What is it?” Luc watched her carefully. She was holding something back and he wondered why.

When she lifted her head, he could see the strain around her eyes and mouth.

“Some of them broke off from the main spearhead.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I think they were headed for Cervantes, but I didn’t have time to both follow them and get here to give you the news.”

It would have been a hard choice to make. Luc tilted his head. “What about the other watchers I set on the border? Joacim, Mande and . . .” He tried to remember the last name.

“Farvela,” Kym said quietly. She lifted both shoulders. “I haven’t seen any of them in well over a week. None of them came to our last scheduled meeting. That’s when I decided I had to come to Fernwell. To let you know what was happening. I was stretched too thin.”

“You did the right thing. Go bathe, rest and eat. And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to lead us back to where you think the Jatan have gone.” Luc thought about it. Every day’s delay was dangerous. Especially if they were headed for Cervantes.

All the Cervantes soldiers were here, part of the Rising Wave force that had taken the Kassian capital. The villages and camps of his home were completely undefended.

They had given up their strongest to bring an end to Kassian rule.

If the Jatan thought to replace one foreign power with another . . . for a moment, exhaustion and despair drained his strength, and he forced himself to shake them off.

He had taken the Kassian stronghold of Fernwell. He could take some green Jatan officers with more ambition than strength and sense any day.

“I’ll see you have all you need.” Dak put a hand on Kym’s shoulder. “Luc’s right. We’ll have to go head them off.”

With a nod, Kym followed him out, and Luc stood in silence for a moment. Rafe said nothing, and the only sound was thesnap snap snapof the tent canvas in the brisk wind.

“There was a night, two years ago,” Rafe said into the silence. “We were about to fight the Venyatux. The Kassians thought we would fight their battle for them, that the threat of harm to the youngsters still in the camps would keep us in line.”

Luc turned to look at him.

Rafe smiled, a crooked lift of one side of his mouth. “I considered taking my own life, that night. Having that control over myself at least, if I had nothing else.”

Luc’s felt a chill grip him at this admission.

Rafe lifted a hand, a silent request to be allowed to continue without interruption, and Luc gave a nod.

“You came into the sleeping tent at maybe two or three in the morning. I could see you had been running or riding hard, that you’d gone somewhere and come back.” He gave a chuckle. “When you said you’d snuck into the Venyatux camp and made a deal with them . . .” Rafe lifted both hands, palms up. “I had never heard of anything so brilliant. But for me, the biggest, most amazing gift you gave me in that moment was my control back. And when we went out onto the field the next morning, and instead of attacking the Venyatux, turned on the Kassians lined up behind us on the field . . .” Rafe sighed. “Nothing will ever compare. Not even taking Fernwell by having the gates simply open to us, and being invited in. You have never led us astray since that night on the eve of battle, and you will not lead us astray now.”

“Everyone is tired. We’ve fought almost continually since that night you describe. And when we haven’t been fighting, we’ve been on the move.” Luc knew the Cervantes needed a break. A time to come to terms with everything that had happened.

Not just in the last two years, but since the establishment of the Chosen camps, the systematic abduction and internment of a generation of children.

He sucked in a breath, thinking of all the young Cervantes he’d been able to liberate from the Chosen camps after that fateful day when he’d negotiated with the Venyatux, and turned on the Kassians.

The day he’d become the famous Turncoat King.

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