The King's sword

“There are not many left,” the guard offered the captain.

“Less and less every year. The Johran and Dragols will be the defeat of one another.” Diato smirked and Ronan moved closer, anger tempting him to slice off the captain’s head.

“The wizard Thestian said that the blacksmith had joined the tribe of Johran,” the guard reminded and Diato nodded.

“He’s a clever little blacksmith.” Diato fisted his hand. “One that takes what belongs to other people. It will be easy to kill him.”

“But what of the sword?” the guard asked and Diato glanced at the young man as if he was stupid.

“I’ll take the sword to Merisgale myself. Fiona has failed her duties. I shall make her regret taking up with that blacksmith.” Diato stared into the night, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was looking right through Ronan’s dark gaze.

“The blacksmith…he is a wizard. A man can’t kill a wizard and get away with it, Sir.” The guard looked around as if fearful that someone might hear their discussion. “The wizard Thestian will not look over it.”

“The wizard Thestian is an upstart who will do whatever I advise him,” Diato snapped and Ronan’s hand dropped to the hilt of the sword at his hip. He could kill him quickly without anyone really knowing what happened. Ronan was aware that doing so he would be face a sentence to prison, perhaps even death but at this moment, it seemed worth it.

“Except search for King Robusk.” The guard’s words caused Ronan to still his urges.

Diato scowled. “That will be amended as soon as I bring the sword to Merisgale. Thestian cannot become the King if Robusk is not present. He doesn’t grasp that concept yet. He is only focused on the retrieval of the sword. He will be an idiot King.”

“That you will control.” The guard nodded in agreement.

“As best as I am able for the good of Meris.” Diato nodded. “But I will take care of this blacksmith first.”

“Why do you hate him so?” The guard asked.

Diato’s gaze darkened. “He’s taken something that is mine.” The sword, Ronan thought sourly as he took a step backward. He turned and began walking away. Diato was after the sword so he could take over at Merisgale. Diato was working for Sleagan.

Diato’s next words caused Ronan to halt abruptly. “Keegan Yore travels with the blacksmith.” Ronan turned slowly, eyes resting on the two men once again.

“Keegan Yore?” The guard shook his head, indicating he did not recognize the name.

“Doane Vaughn.” Diato raised a brow as the color drained from the guard’s face.

“Vaughn?” he whispered. “But no one’s heard from him for years.”

“He’s been hiding out, laying low, no doubt hoping that people forget his crimes. I’d be considered a hero if I brought him in and it would excuse why I killed the blacksmith.” Diato’s teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Who cares of a blacksmith wizard when we have captured an escaped dangerous criminal?”

Ronan felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. Keegan had lied to him. Keegan was the one who betrayed him. Ronan’s blood pounded as he turned and quickly left the campsite. Monty swooped down and scooped him up onto his back. Ronan said nothing as they flew back toward the Johran huts.

“Well?” Keegan was waiting for him when they returned. Ronan didn’t even look at the horseman as he slipped the cape off and tucked it back into the pack or Sorcha’s back.

“They didn’t even know I was there. I just listened.” Ronan glanced at the others as they waited for him to share what he’d learned. “I’m tired right now and have too much to think about. I just want to sleep.” And without another word, he ducked into his hut.

Sitting down at the table and chair inside, Ronan buried his face into his hands. It seemed every step of the way was made more difficult than the last. How much longer could he hold it together?

Fifteen

The next morning Ronan did not urge them to rise and ride. Instead he remained in the hut, thinking about everything that he’d learned. He’d spent most of the night working through his thoughts, his suspicions, and what he needed to do to get the sword to Merisgale. He didn’t like the conclusions he’d come to.

An hour and a half after dawn Arien knocked on the hut door and poked his head in. “Wihr?” He called with uncertainty as he stepped into the hut. Ronan smiled at the way the boy always remembered to address him with the appropriate title.

“We are not moving today,” Ronan answered the question he knew the boy had come to ask.

“But why? Aren’t you still in a hurry to get to Merisgale?” Arien looked at the chair Ronan manifested for him then sat.

“I am, but Diato and his men will be upon us soon. I am not in a hurry to meet them.” Ronan ran a hand over his face. “It has been awhile since you and I had any kind of conversation, Arien. How are you doing with these things that have happened to us?”

Arien leaned forward, resting his arms on the wood of the table. “I’m overwhelmed most of the time. Scared. Excited.”

“Excited?” Ronan lifted his eyes to the boy and raised a brow.

“It’s been an adventure,” Arien stated simply. “One that only happens to a king’s guard. Not to an orphan like me.”

“Or a blacksmith like me,” Ronan agreed.

“And it’s confusing,” Arien continued, shaking his head. “I don’t want to think anyone would betray us.”

“Nor did I.” Ronan sighed and reached over to muss the boy’s hair. “You are a brave young man. I am grateful you’ve come the whole way with me.” Arien’s eyes lightened and his smile was beaming. He stood and nodded toward the door so Arien stood and walked into the morning with him. They were all waiting. Ronan slanted a gaze down at Arien.

“They thought you would be less irritable if I were the one to come in and see about you.” Arien offered a lopsided grin.

Ronan sighed, looking out at those who waited. “We stay here and wait for Diato.”

“What?” Fiona shook her head but Ronan held up his hand before anyone could protest.

“He is not going to give up. We shall have to face him sooner or later.” Ronan glanced at Keegan. “They think to capture you and haul you to a prison in Merisgale.” Keegan’s face blanched.

“Where we are right now is little more than depressing. One among us is a betrayer but I do not know whom. The wizard Robusk has been imprisoned. And a band of King’s Guards will be upon us by nightfall.” Ronan’s eyes slid over each of them. “If any of you wish to back out of this now I shall understand and will not hold it against you.”

Mikel the Hort glanced around then slowly raised his hand. “I’m no good at fighting.”

“Then go, little friend. I wish you well.” Ronan inclined his head and for a moment the changeling hesitated, then scampered away from the group, his short legs moving him quickly across the moors. “Anyone else?” No one moved.

“Very well then but I warn you that things do not get any less depressing from this point.” Ronan crossed his arms, collecting his thoughts, and then took a deep breath. “I did not sleep last night. Many things did not rest well with me and I remained awake pondering everything that has happened and what we have learned.”

Ula settled down on the ground and one by one so did the others to listen to what Ronan had to say. “Last night Diato spoke that Thestian was an ill prepared wizard, easy to control. Why would Robusk name a wizard like that to be the next King?”

“I’ve met Thestian. He did not seem ill prepared to me. Young perhaps but…” Fiona began but Ronan continued, silencing her defense of the young wizard.

“Plus, Thestian does not send men to search for Robusk. He cannot be King if Robusk is missing. The sword must be presented to him by the current King.” Ronan began to pace as he spoke. “Thestian sent one warrior as an escort to Merisgale, a capable warrior but only one and to guard something as valuable as the King’s Sword?”