Page 68 of Path of the Dark
22
My Consort
THE LEAGUEFORT ROSE before them against a blushing sky.
Ryana slowed her step as she approached it, taking in the huge construction of ash, beech, and iron, and the twenty-foot palisade that stretched into the distance either-side. A high wooden watchtower loomed over the gates.
She suppressed the urge to look over her shoulder. She’d sent out scouts that morning, and they’d returned with the news that Rithmar soldiers were heading toward the border, but were still many furlongs behind them.
They’d outrun their pursuers—but even so, Ryana was nervous.
For the first time in hours, she glanced Elias’s way. “The fort looks new,” she observed.
He nodded. “Aye … it’s the leaguefort that Ninia burned to the ground a few months ago. They only recently finished rebuilding it. “
Ryana digested this news. If this wasthatleaguefort then they were around two leagues north of Lake Thornmere, where Asher had traveled earlier in the year to track down and kill Ninia and the woman who guarded her.
Ryana’s lips compressed. So many people wanted her dead, but Ninia had defied them all. So far, kindness had been her strongest weapon. “How are you going to play this?” she asked.
Elias raised a dark eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Will you tell them Ninia’s dead?” It was a bold question, but she needed to hide the fact that the sight of the leaguefort unnerved her.
She was about to enter enemy territory.
The prince’s mouth lifted at the edges. “Aye … it’s best for us both if everyone thinks that for the moment.” His gaze shadowed then. “My father will be easier to deal with if he doesn’t already know I’ve failed him.”
Again.
The word was unspoken, yet seemed to whisper in the humid early evening air.
They were nearing the iron gates now. A row of helmed Anthor guards stood before them. Their stance was aggressive, spears thrusting toward the newcomers. However, when some of the soldiers recognized the man striding toward them, they lowered their spears.
“Your Highness!”
Elias smiled and raised a hand in an unconsciously regal gesture.
Ryana’s tensed, misgiving fluttering in her belly. They were about to walk into his world—a world where, after his father, Elias of Anthor ruled.
The line of guards parted, and one of the men stepped up to the iron gates and pounded his fist upon it. “Open the gates … Prince Elias has returned!”
Elias walked through the tunnel and halted while his men raised the portcullis on the southern entrance and opened the gates. The garrison commander awaited him. Tall and rawboned, he was new to the post. Mira had killed the previous commander.
The man bowed low from the waist, leather armor creaking. “Your Highness … welcome. I’m Commander Aureliano.”
Elias acknowledged the man with a nod. “Good eve, commander. Have a room prepared in the fort. We’ll be staying overnight.”
“Aye, Your Highness.”
“Address me as ‘captain’,” Elias replied. “Save the formal titles for court.”
The commander’s face tightened in embarrassment. “Of course, captain.”
Elias’s attention shifted to the leaguefort that loomed over them. “You and the lads have done a good job rebuilding this,” he commented. “Last time I saw the fort, it was little more than a smoldering ruin.”
Commander Aureliano smiled, basking in the praise. “The men have worked hard. No one crosses the border without our say so.” His gaze searched Elias’s face then, his dark eyes burning with curiosity. “Your mission … was it successful?”
“Aye,” Elias replied, deliberately keeping his answer brusque. “I will deliver the news to my father in person.”
