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Chapter twelve

Nerys

“ I thought you said this place was only a few hours away,” Nerys said, shifting her seating on the horse, which was in front of Idris.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the most gifted at equine navigation, which made her feelings about this situation complicated.

Moreso than they were already. Sitting with his chest right against her and being this close to him was…

unsettling. She was all too aware of his body against her back, his corded arms around her sides as he clasped the reins in front of them.

Definitely unsettling. “Fina’s going to panic that we’re gone,” Nerys continued, anxious to draw attention to anything else but her nerves.

“We were going to learn cheese slicing today.” Cheese slicing at court was an art. For some reason.

“I did lie to her a tiny bit,” Idris said, “ because Fina will panic. She’ll understand later.”

“She’s going to kill you.”

“Probably.”

They had been riding through the wilderness since before dawn, through an endless sea of deciduous and pine trees, birds and ground critters, and rocks and logs.

The weather was turning cold, making leaves change to brilliant reds and golds, nature caught in an emerging battle between the life of summer and a wintery death.

Already some of the trees were bare, their leafless skeletons standing in silent judgment, watching them pass.

While it was frigid in the morning, the sun—when it managed to break through tree branches—warmed them, which would have made for a pleasant day. In normal circumstances.

A messenger for Idris—apparently yet another Cerdorani spy—had arrived in the night.

Idris woke Nerys long before dawn, telling her to dress warm and that the “proof” of the R?ll’s treachery was ready for her.

It was what she had been waiting for—what would let her decide once and for all whether she was going to kill the R?ll.

But what if it was something she didn’t want to see?

What could it be? A captured spy? An incriminating letter? Or something worse ?

They had left a note for Fina—claiming they’d be back before midday—before stealing off with little more than a pack of food and one horse.

Hence, Nerys found herself in front of Idris, and consequently spent most of the morning trying very hard to ignore his hard body pressing against hers.

His muscular form—particularly his sculpted legs—was impossible to ignore, his heat a comforting sensation.

Today he smelled like leather and cloves—a definite improvement over when she met him.

Even his clothing tugged her mind to places it couldn’t afford to go—form-fitting armor, which was hidden under his cloak, was far too flattering on his frame.

Metal plates covered his shoulders, while most of his body was encased in leather.

All of it black. Did all Cerdorani men dress this way?

If so, that was quite the battle tactic—distracting the enemy through attire. Tight attire…

She needed to focus on something else, anything else. In these woods, with Idris, the R?ll could’ve been a lifetime away, and her attention needed to come back to the present. “Now that we’re well on our way,” Nerys said, “what’s this ‘proof’ you’re taking me to?”

Idris didn’t answer.

“Idris—are you really not going to say anything? You can’t stay silent. Unless your plan is to dump me in the woods and leave.”

Idris huffed. “No. Not that. Never that. I’m… Yes, I should warn you.” His tone was grim. “It’d be cruel not to.”

“Cruel?” On no.

Idris adjusted his cloak. “Are you sure you’re not cold? I can wrap you in my cloak.”

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t. She just didn’t trust herself to be that close to him, literally wrapped up with him. “You’re changing the subject. Talk.”

“Maybe we should—”

“Idris.”

“Alright.” Idris sighed and rubbed his face, holding the reins with only one hand. “I received word that another village was attacked last night. If my sources are correct, then we’re going to find the same things you saw at yours.”

“Such as…” A chill worked through her, craving and fearing his words at the same time.

“You never told me details of the scene, correct?”

“No.” Why would she? It was difficult enough talking about her family’s death, much less the way that her sister’s corpse was brutalized.

“Then that should do it, if you see the same scene again. It will prove that it’s the R?ll. ”

Nerys’s heart sank. Was she going to see more death? More carnage? “All that will prove is that the Cerdorani have done the same thing to other villages. Not that the R?ll was involved.”

Idris paused. “You promised me you’d come see.”

“I did.” Nerys clenched her fists. “I didn’t promise that you’d convince me.”

“Just…see. That’s all I ask.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t likely she could hop off the horse and magically wake up in bed—she was stuck with him. She had to see this through.

The conversation lapsed as they came to a small gorge, a part of the trail that had been washed out, which Idris had to carefully guide the horse through.

Nerys gripped onto the saddle’s pommel as Idris’s arm wrapped around her, holding her tight.

It should not have felt so right to be close to him like this.

She swayed and held her breath as they passed over several large rocks and divots, where a single misstep from the horse could send them crashing to the stones.

Once Nerys regained her breath, and the horse was safely on its way once more, Idris continued, “You only told me that everyone was killed. I believe that seeing this” ?he let go of her waist? “seeing the same thing at yet another village, will tell you the truth of what I have to say—Abnar is summoning a demon.”

Nerys’s guts twisted. “You’re serious. I’m going to see a massacre,” she whispered. She was going to have to witness her worst fear. Again. No. Not that. Her nightmares were bad enough. Adilette…

“You’ll see, in order to understand why we have to end it,” Idris said gently. “I’m sorry. If there was another way I would have taken it in an instant.” His hand rested on her shoulder, a small beacon of support against her terror.

Nerys blinked back tears. She was really going to see it again.

“You…why…you could have just killed the villagers yourself. Sent someone else to do it.” Did she really believe that Idris was responsible?

No. It just sounded better than the alternative—that the R?ll, Chosen of the Living Gods, Ca’mail’s protector, had betrayed them.

Idris scoffed. “Do you really think the Cerdorani army would be able to massacre six different villages, do the exact same thing, and not get caught? More importantly, why would we do this?”

“Cause discord. Chaos. We’re at war.”

“Please. We don’t need innocent villagers for that. Don’t mistake me, Nerys, I intend for Cerdoran to win this war—but we want people left alive after it. Our future people. We save our tactics for the army, where the casualties matter and aren’t the result of depraved beasts.”

What he said made sense—it would be a lot of effort for Cerdoran to send in troops this far from the border for nothing more than to terrorize minor villages. Too easy for their plans to be interrupted, their own men captured. She forced her breath steady. The R?ll…

“How have Ca’mail’s people not learned of this?” Nerys asked. “Surely, if multiple villages were treated like mine, someone would notice.”

“Because Abnar is thorough. And he isn’t doing this alone. But we should get there before his cleaners arrive—the ones who make the scene look like Cerdorani troops did it in truth.”

“Such as?”

“The right uniforms on the right corpses can change history.”

“I didn’t see them in Raven’s Crest. And I still saw the…scene.”

“…That’s because they hadn’t arrived yet.”

Nerys gasped and her body shook. “That means…” Those poor villagers.

“Anyone the R?ll’s men found are likely dead. The ones left after that would be too few to spread the tale. Especially with no corpses, no sign of a ritual to contradict a few traumatized peasants.”

Arabella…hopefully she left in time. Hopefully they had all left in time.

“Why wait so long at all? Why not have the scene changed immediately?”

Idris shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it has to do with the ritual?” 70

A jolt went through Nerys—Idris was expecting to encounter soldiers. So that’s why he wore armor and brought a sword. Nerys had assumed it was just to avoid the dangers of the road. “You’re expecting a fight?”

“This is war, Nerys. Always expect a fight.”

It took both far too long to reach the scene of the massacre and no time at all.

If only seeing it wasn’t necessary—but it was.

She had to know whether the R?ll was responsible, whether to believe Idris.

She had to know whether it was enough to risk her life, to murder the ruler of her own kingdom.

Yet the best reasons didn’t prepare her to face her nightmares again.

Nerys covered her mouth, coughing through her sleeves at the smoke from smoldering buildings filling her lungs.

This village was little more than an outpost for travelers, but that did little to minimize the horror.

Idris gave her a pitying glance, his blonde hair tied away from his face.

“I’m fine,” she said. She was—at least compared to the corpses.