Page 78 of Path of the Dark
26
Second Chances
RYANA REINED IN her horse, her attention riveted upon the flotilla of sailboats on the lake before her. A brisk wind scudded across the rough surface of the water, filling the sails. From this distance it looked as if a flock of birds had just landed upon the lake.
“The Witchmere regatta.” Elias spoke up beside her. “It’s a yearly event.”
Ryana tore her gaze from the boats and cast Elias an appraising look. Seated astride a heavy black destrier, she had to admit he cut an imposing figure. They were making fast progress south. The garrison commander had given them two horses and an escort of four men for their journey. They’d stopped at Thornmere the night before and, after leaving Witchmere, would need two more days to reach the capital.
Ryana was counting down the hours.
“Come on.” Elias urged his stallion forward along the lake path. “A tankard of cool ale awaits.”
The faces of the men following them lit up at this; it had been a long, hot day of travel. They were all sweaty and tired. Flies bothered the horses, buzzing around their ears and causing them to constantly switch their tails.
Ryana’s lips thinned as she urged her mount forward. As much as she longed for a cool drink at an end of the day’s journey, she dreaded the arrival of the evening. It meant having to spend time with this company of men. The four soldiers escorting them were brash and loud company, whereas Elias just put her on edge. He said little, yet she often caught him watching her.
Riding into Witchmere, Ryana’s attention shifted from her brooding thoughts to the town itself. She was struck by how different it was from Thornmere. The latter was built out on a giant pier over the lake, while Witchmere climbed the steep hillside in terraces. The buildings were all painted pastel shades: blue, pink, and green.
It was the prettiest town Ryana had set eyes on. Under different circumstances she might have enjoyed the ride along the cobbled waterfront, past shop fronts with hanging baskets. Elderly women sat outside in the sun, peeling vegetables for supper, while crowds of townsfolk sat on the lake’s shingle edge, watching the regatta. Even the presence of Anthor soldiers here, a constant reminder of Thûn’s occupation, couldn’t dim the town’s loveliness.
The only thing to cast a shadow over Witchmere was its Altar of Umbra. The obelisk sat high on a plinth upon the lake’s edge, looking north. Every settlement, no matter how small, in The Four Kingdoms had one. They’d been erected during the time of The Shadow King and held a powerful enchantment that made it impossible to pull them down.
The altar was a dark stain on an otherwise beautiful summer’s eve.
At the eastern end of the waterfront satThe Dog and Duck, a three-storied wooden building painted the color of custard. Stabling their horses behind it, the travelers made their way into an empty common room. Most folk were still out watching the boating.
As he had the night before, Elias paid for three rooms: one for him and Ryana and the other two for their escort to share—and as previously, Ryana ground her teeth when the inn-keeper favored her and Elias with a knowing smile.
Only two days into the journey, and it was already becoming unbearable.
Elias ignored the inn-keeper’s smirk and ordered a round of local ale. He took a small booth in the corner, motioning for Ryana to join him, while the soldiers took a larger table in the center of the floor. Moments later one of them pulled out a pouch of dice, and they began to play.
“Do the men of your country do anything but play dice?” Ryana asked sourly as she watched them.
“Not much,” Elias replied. “Aside from a bit of drinking, swiving, and fighting.”
Ryana frowned. “They must end up gambling away their wages.”
“Something I also caught you doing atThe Black Boar, if you remember?”
Ryana stiffened. She didn’t appreciate a reminder of that evening.
The tankards of ale arrived then. Elias took a deep draft before leaning back in the booth with a sigh. “Try not to look so disapproving,” he continued. “They don’t have much else to spend their coin on, this far from home.”
Ryana didn’t reply, instead taking a gulp of ale. It was delicious, with a sharp, hoppy aftertaste. Leaning back, she let her gaze travel around the common room. A few folk were starting to trickle in now, faces reddened from the sun and wind.
“We’re only a couple of days out from Veldoras,” she said when the silence stretched out between them. “What are you going to say to your father?”
His mouth curved. “I’m not sure … I’ll judge his mood, before I start speaking.”
“But how will you convince him to agree to peace?”
Elias scratched his chin. She watched his eyes shadow, saw the doubt there. “I’ll present him with the facts. Aside from land, my father also covets wealth. If he thinks it’s in his interests … he’ll negotiate.”
Ryana frowned. “And the agreements you made with Nathan … they’ll be enough?”
He held her gaze. “They’ll have to be.”
