Page 62 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Fifty-Six

TOLVAR

E lanna was right. The Edan Stone was a burden. He’d already experienced it, but he’d assumed ’twas because it reminded him that he was alive and Sloane was not. But the weight of it—and what it encased—tested him.

The race to Ashwin seemed like a lost cause, although Tolvar kept this to himself.

He vowed to be the knight Elanna Saw in him.

’Twas not that he believed Ashwin could not defend itself, and they had his own army at their disposal, but it nagged at him that they might finally—finally—encounter Crevan.

He longed to be rid of his notions of revenge. He did.

Traveling, Tolvar noticed that two pairs had formed while he’d been away in Greenwood.

Joss and Barrett were the first, although, stars be good, they were trying to keep their relationship a secret from him.

It brought a much-needed lightness to Tolvar’s overall gloomy mood.

Observing the two attempt to shuffle off separately or dart ogling glances at one another almost brought a laugh.

He considered informing them that he knew but was inclined to let the entertainment play out a little while longer. Stars knew Joss’s first reaction would be a drastic self-berating .

The second pair gave Tolvar much more consternation. Hux and Elanna. He’d first noticed it the night Elanna had come undone, and Hux had been the only one who could give her solace.

But since that night, the two kept their distance from one another. ’Twas obvious that Hux, who’d earlier professed his feelings but claimed he’d ne’er act upon them, had indeed acted upon them.

Elanna was more obvious, however coy she thought she was. Her side-glances were awkward, at best.

What Tolvar could not estimate was why the two so blatantly avoided each other. If Elanna had rejected him, wouldn’t she simply ignore him? Truly ignore him.

A spat of some sort?

True, Hux was a wealth of idiotic ramblings. Mayhap he’d offended her.

Whatever it was, ’twas irritating, nonetheless. Tolvar shook his head. What did he care? He should revel to see the vexing Ravyn suffer.

But he didn’t. Tolvar scratched his beard, observing Hux groom his stallion at one end of the camp and Elanna groom Rasa at the other. Their uncomfortable glances were so frequent, one might wonder if the two were engaged in some sort of staring competition.

“M’lord.” Gus approached, holding a parchment. “This arrived via messenger from South.”

When they’d stopped at the last village that had ravens, Tolvar had sent messages to the ten biggest towns in Askella inquiring for news and instructing them to send a reply to South, a village along the Cresswell—their last stop before making it to Ashwin.

Tolvar broke the wax seal and read.

“Siria’s skirt,” he swore. Other colorful words escaped his lips as he read to the bottom.

Greenwood had breached Kelton, and the town was now under his authority.

Those who’d attempted to flee had been killed.

“A blood bath,” the description had read.

Tolvar frowned, considering how long it would be until the town of Shaen suffered the same fate.

Rumors of frays between Namid and Elendura, as well as some provinces in Grenden, were snaking their way through Lenfore.

The only relatively positive news was that ’twas also rumored that a band of Anscom’s men had been lost in what was now becoming quite the mysterious North Forest. Some villages were even coining it a new moniker: The Uninvited Forest.

But ’twas not enough to help Tolvar’s distress. The note had stated that the last portion of news—confusing and terrifying—was a matter Tolvar needed to see for himself.

A second page of parchment was attached to the note. Tolvar carefully slid it from under the note. It was a WANTED banner. He swallowed. A drawn depiction of his own face stared back at him.

Gus eyed it. “Who would do this?”

“Mayhap Greenwood. Anscom? Or Crevan,” Tolvar returned. Stars, the last few years had not made Tolvar a novice to being a “wanted” man, but he’d done naught to earn it this time.

Clever Crevan.

“‘For attempted assassination of the sovereign,’” Gus read. “Stars, m’lord. This is grave news.”

Tolvar hadn’t read that statement but offered a glance that said, “you jest not.”

“This framing will have me hunted down thrice as worse as last time.”

Gus nodded. “But this time, you have a StarSeer on your side, m’lord.”

“True. Unfortunately, as far as the realm is concerned, that may complicate matters. Read the bottom.”

He handed the banner to Gus, who produced impressive cuss words after reading.

The StarSeers, Elanna in particular, were being blamed for the attempted demise of the sovereign. So much so that Elanna was wanted for questioning by a number of provinces, including, not surprisingly, Anscom and Greenwood.

Clever again.

“But I cannot understand this. There were witnesses. Many witnesses. The queen especially. Stars, Lady Tara is still there at Castle Sidra. Will she be safe?”

“That’s the thing about rumors,” Tolvar said. “They usually need little evidence behind them. This WANTED banner most likely did not come from Asalle. After we left, Queen Ferika sealed its gate. No one to enter. No one to leave. What better circumstances does one need to start a rumor?”

“What’s happening?” Joss stood next to them, followed by the others.

Tolvar thought again of Crevan’s words: Bring down the light. Certainly, a falsely accused and hunted StarSeer would do the trick. He nodded to Gus, who shared the news.

Elanna paled but said nothing.

No one did.

Joss, ever the dame, began to brainstorm ideas to combat the WANTED banner and rumors. In that moment, even if there was naught they could do, Tolvar was beyond grateful. A pang of guilt at the memory of Bernwald crept over him.

Tolvar knew himself to be the cause. Despite stars speaking to him or Sloane’s ghost visiting him in visions, the guilt stung.

In a way, this hurt worse than losing his father and Thorin Court. He had a blasted StarSeer with him, who’d told him not to leave Asalle, and he’d bungled everything anyway. The death of Bernwald. The likely death of the sovereign. Rumors of the Wolf turning traitor. Had he stayed…

“How far is South from here?” Tolvar asked.

Stars. He’d ne’er itched like he itched now.

“About one hour’s time, m’lord,” Gus said.

He nodded and went to saddle Valko.

“M’lord, where are you going?” Gus said. “I shall come with you.”

“As will we,” Joss echoed.

Tolvar was too ashamed to say what he was about to do, and he couldn’t have the others tag along. “Peace. I need no escort. South is insignificant, and certainly, no one there has yet received this same news. Who would think to include them? ”

Despite these words, Tolvar gazed at Elanna to assess whether or not she would halt him. She gave the slightest of headshakes.

Stars’ shadow.

He gritted his teeth, hurled Valko’s saddle onto the ground, and stomped away from camp, shouting death to anyone who followed him.