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R ufe caught Niam near sunset. He expected to have to talk his way through the guards, who might or might not know of him—and who might or might not hate him for being Cormiran.

He never expected Niam to step from the trees into his path. Rufe’s heart gave an energetic leap. How odd. He rarely got this excited to see a lover. It must be the thrill of being part of the mission. Yeah, that had to be the explanation.

“Rufe? What are you doing here?” Was that expression on Niam’s face surprise, pleasure, or something else?

“I might ask you the same thing. Where are your guards?” How dare the soldiers leave their king unprotected?

“Right here.” Captain Casseign and three of his men stepped out from the trees. “Rest assured, we wouldn’t allow Ki…” Casseign glanced sharply toward Niam before finishing with, “… Ned, to wander the woods alone.”

Ned. Good. And Niam had dressed as a lowly private. No one of importance. Which meant, to keep up the ruse, Casseign outranked him. But wait! Cass spoke Cormiran? Had Rufe heard him speak Cormiran before? If Nera knew she'd pretended he didn't, acting as interpreter.

Rufe forced his gaze away from Niam and onto the captain. Delletina’s protocol might differ from Cormira's, but he used rehearsed words. “As a soldier fully trained in combat, I offer my sword to your service and request entry into your company.”

Casseign glanced at Niam, but Rufe kept his attention fixed on Casseign. As the highest-ranking member of this campaign he'd met so far, the choice should be the captain's.

Finally, Casseign nodded. “We welcome your expertise.” He grinned. “Just remember, for the duration of this assignment, I’m your commanding officer.”

“Can I still call you Cass?”

“Why not?”

Rufe saluted with an arm across his chest. Although he and Cass might hold the same rank, Rufe knew that following Draylon to Delletina could get him cast out of the Cormiran army. He could do worse than find himself under Cass’s leadership.

Rufe fought the urge to fill Niam’s cup or plate at dinner. What was wrong with him? He was a soldier, not a servant, and if Niam planned to continue pretending to be a private, he’d have to fend for himself. Besides, movement meant trying harder to hide aches .

Not that Niam seemed to find taking care of himself a hardship.

He wasn’t like other nobles Rufe knew, expecting to be catered to, and even took his turn at guard duty and had learned the healer’s art.

He might not be Delletina's best swordsman, but he could defend himself, and he rode a saddle as if he'd been on a mule since infancy.

While Rufe couldn’t wait on him, he took the liberty of sitting next to Niam by the campfire, where he stretched his injured leg out.

He could always claim he sat there because only Niam understood Cormiran, though he’d realized Cass spoke more of the language than he’d initially let on.

The warmth of the fire eased some of the pain Rufe didn’t dare mention to anyone.

He also put on quite the performance to hide any traces of a limp. No one was going to send him back.

They ate roast rabbit that Cass and some others snared. While the captain watched Rufe from across the campfire with curious eyes, he showed no animosity, merely lifting a brow when Rufe settled next to Niam. Roughly two hundred soldiers gathered around campfires or stood guard.

Which explained how Rufe caught up so quickly. Niam’s company had stopped to pick up more soldiers.

Niam spoke first. “I wanted you to rest and heal, but Captain Casseign has assured me it’s better to have you with us when we enter Renvalle territory, as you can convince any sentries we’re not a threat. ”

“I can certainly try.” Actually, Rufe had little doubt he’d succeed, being known for his powers of persuasion. Some Renvallians, however, still saw him as a Cormiran barbarian.

Niam lowered his voice to a quiet murmur. “I’m glad you’re here. I regretted my decision to leave you behind almost immediately.”

Now, more warmth blossomed inside Rufe than came from the fire. “I’m glad to be here.”

“I just hate leaving Mother alone.”

Rufe fought a laugh. If anyone could take care of themselves, it was Nera. He’d have loved to have met Yarif’s mother, though her kindness and fortitude lived on in her son for all to see. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We're going to Renvalle to support King Draylon and Consort Yarif. We’re only bringing around two hundred soldiers, but I’m given to understand that’s more than Renvalle has after Soland invaded.. And would they even turn against Yarif? I'm counting on any Cormiran soldiers to listen to Draylon.”

Rufe wondered about that, too. “Doubtful. But we’ll see.”

They finished their evening meal and then settled on bedrolls, side by side. During the night, Niam slipped his hand into Rufe’s.

Rufe smiled and dreamed pleasant dreams.

The route directly south let them bypass the Telaga Pass, though the avoidance cost them three extra days on the road and required a slight detour into Draige.

Rufe hated any reminders of being taken captive in Draige, but wouldn’t voice his reservations to the present company.

Not his helplessness, his humiliation, or the horrors he’d witnessed.

That’s behind me now. The past can’t hurt me.

But it did. Every time he saw his damnable tattoo.

They rode as stealthily as possible, hoping no Dragan forces caught them trespassing, as they hadn’t yet taken sides in this latest conflict of Draylon and Yarif against the emperor. He breathed a sigh of relief once they crossed into Renvalle.

Even with the delay, they shouldn’t be far behind Draylon if he stopped to consult with Commander Vihaan of Glendor and gain more forces.

Though Rufe’s injuries still caused him pain, he rode to Casseign and volunteered his services. “We’re ten miles from Renvalle Castle. I want to go ahead and see what waits for us.”

Cass nodded. “I’m riding out with a party of ten scouts. You may join us.”

Rufe cast Cass a suspicious glance. “You’re not going to fight me?”

“I know a good fighting man when I see one. I believe, even injured, you’d outmatch any Renvallian.”

“Except for one.” The memory of the first meeting with Yarif crossed Rufe’s mind.

“Really? ”

“You’ve never seen Yarif fight. He held off five of my men the day Cormira invaded.”

A half smile tugged at Cass’s lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The scouting party had not ridden far when Rufe spotted banners for Herix and Draige in the distance. So maybe Draige had taken sides. Was that…? Rufe stopped his mule beside Cass’s. “No wonder we haven’t met up with Draylon. He’s been recruiting. Send for our men. I’ll make our presence known.”

Rufe spurred his mule toward Glendor’s banner, where a woman wearing the insignia of a Dragan commander stood next to a Glendoran captain. A commander? Here?

Cass rejoined him as Rufe dismounted and saluted.

“Greetings, Captain Rufe. King Draylon said you wouldn’t be here, but placed a wager that you would appear.

” The Dragan commander’s eyes widened at the sight of Casseign.

“A Delletinian captain. Do we need to watch our rear? Of course, you don’t seem to be his prisoner…

” She trailed off, allowing Rufe to elaborate.

“This is indeed Captain Casseign of the Delletinian forces. He’s brought two hundred men to back King Draylon.” Rufe surveyed the surrounding land, trying to count the troops.

The woman smiled. “We have over two thousand soldiers from five kingdoms, six counting Delletina. I don’t think Emperor Soland stands a chance.” Her smile held no pity for the emperor.

She’d so openly discuss defying Soland? “What is happening?”

“Decoys of King Draylon and Commander Vihaan approached the gates while the actual king and commander snuck in,” the Glendoran captain explained .

“How long have they been gone?”

“A few hours. King Draylon went in search of his brother.”

Rufe didn’t ask, but was Draylon hoping to convince Avestan to overthrow their father? “Please give the word that Delletinian soldiers approach, and they’re not to be harmed.”

The commander inclined her head to a subordinate, who saluted and strode off after a brief conversation. “Did you bring a banner?” she asked Casseign.

Niam and Rufe sat on their mules on a ridge overlooking Renvalle Castle, underneath the black and white banner of Delletina.

Rufe fought the urge to get down and pace, since that would have aggravated his leg.

What was taking so long? He wasn’t the kind to sit around and wait; he wanted to charge in and ensure Draylon's safety.

Would Avestan agree to any schemes to overthrow Soland? What would Soland do? Though Renvallian soldiers gathered before the castle gates, so far, none approached. The sun reached its zenith and sank toward the horizon.

Finally, a murmur went up among the assembled soldiers.

Fear gripped Rufe’s heart as a black flag rose over the castle.

A black flag? Rufe’s breath caught in his throat.

That meant a member of the royal family had died.

With no other thought but to reach Draylon, Rufe urged his mule down the ridge, riding hard for the castle gates.

Hoofbeats behind him said others followed.

He turned enough to catch sight of Niam and Cass.

Rufe reined in his mount when a lone figure marched up the hillside from the tree cover.

Yarif!

Rufe rode toward Yarif instead, jumping from his mule—with a painful gasp—and wrapping the man in his arms before recalling Yarif’s damaged back and letting go. “Yarif! Is Draylon all right?”

Niam’s familiar hands gripped Rufe’s shoulders, steadying him.

Yarif gave a tired smile. “He’s fine, as is Avestan. I can’t say the same for Emperor Soland.” The warning in his eyes and the bloodstains on Yarif's tunic stopped Rufe’s questions. “Dray will return shortly.”