Page 33

“Good.” Voice still quiet, Rufe asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes. A bit shaken and angry with myself for not paying better attention.”

Rufe remained alert, checking the shadows for places an assassin might hide. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You should be able to trust your advisors and guards.” Zanial’s position put him close to Niam. Had he noticed Rufe and Niam’s relationship while on the road together?

He’d also been in Renvalle when someone sabotaged the saddle Niam gifted to Rufe.

As advisor, Zanial likely knew of the purchase of both mule and saddle.

Had he known they were gifts, or had Niam been the intended target?

The very thought sent chills through Rufe, quickly replaced by boiling anger. How dare the man!

Rufe, Niam, and the guards strode into the castle through an arched doorway, down a long hall, and into Niam’s rooms. Rufe longed to look around, but now wasn’t the time. He ordered the first guard, “Check his rooms.”

The guard disappeared through the door, reappearing a few moments later. “All is clear.”

Rufe caught Niam’s gaze. “Stay here. I’ll be back later to tell you what I’ve found.”

“What about the boys and Mother? ”

“I’ll check in on them.” Rufe took the dagger from Niam’s fingers.

“I need this weapon as evidence. Take mine instead.” He removed his bone-handled boot knife and handed it over.

“Don’t be afraid to use it if you have to.

” He returned to the door, gazing deeply into Niam’s troubled green eyes.

“Stay safe.” Rufe wished he could say more.

The guards paying close attention meant he couldn’t.

Once Niam disappeared inside the bedchamber with one guard, with the others watching the door, Rufe traipsed off down the hall to his rooms, quickly changing from his finery to an all-black outfit he’d brought but hoped he wouldn’t need to wear and strapped on his sword, finally not feeling vulnerable.

He slipped out of the castle, winding down the darkened path to the stables. A lantern burned before the door. Rufe kept to the shadows, following the sounds of voices.

A loud slap sounded. “Where have you been, boy? Your work isn’t done.”

The boy’s work was possibly more done than anyone realized.

“I had to go out. I was only gone a few minutes. Zanial sent me on an errand.” The stable lad might as well have confessed. He sounded so young, voice just beginning the unstable cracking as it crossed from childhood to maturity. Perhaps he was younger than Rufe originally thought.

Rufe crept in through the door, following the light from another lantern where the stable master berated the boy.

“I don’t care who told you to do what. You work for me. You don’t leave without my permission. ”

Rufe studied the boy’s face in the lantern’s glow and stepped into the light.

The boy let out an “Eep!” of fright and darted out the back door. Rufe ran faster.

The boy whirled, pitchfork in hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

The stable master barreled toward them. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This boy just tried to kill King Niam!” Rufe snarled.

“No! I was only supposed to scare him!” The boy slapped both hands over his mouth, dropping the pitchfork.

Rufe pulled the dagger, a homemade blade with an elk horn handle, from his tunic. “Never pull a blade unless you intend to use it,” he hissed in Delletinian.

Smash! Something hard hit Rufe’s head, knocking him sideways. Damnation! He’d just lamented Niam’s lack of awareness. The boy ran. Rufe turned on the stable master, who raised his wooden bucket again for another strike.

Rufe grabbed the bucket in one hand, sending the portly man off-balance. A right hook put him on the ground, out cold.

Rufe tossed the bucket and took off after the boy, at a distinct disadvantage in unfamiliar surroundings.

So many obstacles, so many places to hide.

He stopped, listening. Nothing but the breeze rustling the tree limbs.

He drew his sword. How foolish of him to come out here alone, no one knowing where he’d be.

No telling where his dagger went. He couldn’t recall even dropping it.

That no one knew his actual position or reason for being in Delletina could be used to Rufe’s advantage.

People likely wouldn’t expect a diplomat to hold his own in a fight, though anyone paying close attention would see his callused hands and notice the scars and tattoo—hardly the marks of a noble used to soft living, even a Cormiran barbarian.

Rufe stole quietly through the woods along a path, slowly, as the quarter-moon provided little light under the trees, and many hooves had churned snow into slush with no discernable footsteps.

A blur caught from the corner of his eye made him spin just in time to avoid a dagger to the throat.

Instinct took over, Rufe’s finely honed reflexes kicking in.

He dropped the sword, grabbed the man’s wrist above the hand holding the knife, and tugged, pulling his assailant off balance and landing a punch to the soft midsection.

“Oof!” The man dropped. Rufe landed behind him, wrapping one arm around his neck and yanking back.

The man grappled with both hands, fighting against Rufe’s hold—so no knife. Rufe rose, pulling his attacker along with him. Shouts came from the direction of the barn. He waited to see what might happen before hauling his quarry in that direction. There could be more enemies.

“Let me go!” the man in Rufe’s arms screamed. No, not a man. The boy from before.

“Lord Rufe!” called a voice he recognized as Casseign’s.

“Here!” Rufe reached down for his boot knife. One couldn’t be too careful. No wait. He’d given the knife to Niam.

Thudding footsteps heralded more than one person approaching.

Casseign and another soldier appeared, a lantern in one hand and a sword in the other.

Rufe stood aside, allowing Casseign to approach.

Was the captain as loyal as Rufe thought?

He held his breath. More guards arrived, forming a loose semi-circle around Cass, Rufe, and the stable lad.

“Take his captive,” Casseign ordered.

The man with Cass sheathed his sword and stepped forward, grasping the struggling stable boy by the arm.

Rufe lifted his chin. “He made an attempt on King Niam’s life. I want to question him personally.” He wasn’t in much of a position to bark orders under the guise of a foreign dignitary without his sword to back up his word.

Casseign nodded. “So you shall.” He retrieved the fallen sword and handed it to Rufe.

The guard raised a brow. Oh, right. He didn’t know Rufe as Casseign did.

“Lord Rufe has experience in interrogation,” Casseign explained. “Take the boy to my office. We’ll be there shortly.” He pointed to the other guards. “Go with them.”

Rufe waited until they left to tell Casseign, “The stable master attacked me with a bucket.”

The edge of Cass’s mouth twitched. “Defending the boy, most likely. His nephew.”

The uncle should’ve taught his nephew better. “The boy didn’t scheme to kill Niam on his own.”

Cass sheathed his sword. “No. He’s a bit gullible. Someone definitely commanded him.”

“The stable master? ”

“No. He’s no mastermind. Crude, but loyal.”

Oh, right. “The boy said Zanial sent him on an errand. When he failed, Zanial tried to attack King Niam.”

Shouting came from the stables, followed by the unmistakable clang of steel. Rufe rushed after Casseign toward the shouting.

Three guards stood back-to-back with Vihaan, breathing hard. Blood dripped from a cut on Vihaan’s forehead, as well as his sword. Four lay dead—one the stable lad, with an arrow sticking from his throat. The other three victims wore Delletinian uniforms.

Someone hadn’t wanted the boy questioned. No assailants were in sight. Whoever attacked did so quickly, retreating just as fast.

“Vihaan, are you hurt?” Casseign asked with more concern than their public positions would have suggested.

Vihaan swatted a hand, like batting away a troublesome fly. “It’s nothing.”

Casseign nodded. “Please ensure all is well here. I’ll take Lord Rufe back to the castle.” He and Vihaan stared at each other a moment longer than absolutely necessary, in Rufe’s opinion.

A servant met them on their way back to the castle. “Captain Casseign? Zanial has escaped.”

Damnation! Chances were, he didn’t escape on his own. How many enemies hid within the castle walls?