Page 56 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

~ JANN ~

With few exceptions, every day for the following weeks was an exercise in determination. My body, unaccustomed to carrying the load of another being—even one as small as her—for endless hours, ached and wearied.

I strengthened, as well. And knew once I’d had time to rest, I’d grow stronger. But crossing the Continent on the wing for hours every day was nothing short of exhausting.

Diadre worried for me, which was both touching and frustrating.

The part of me that still danced in fear, waiting for a sign from her that she’d surrendered entirely to the bond and would welcome more than simple admiration, ran a gamut of emotion and expectation.

At some moments, certain she loved me. Others, certain she didn’t.

One thing was sure, though. My mate understood a soldier’s duty. From the moment we rose from sleep as the sun went down, until I landed, exhausted and wilting as the dawn crept up on the horizon, she remained stoic, uncomplaining, and insightful—not to mention, sharp-eyed and sharp-witted.

The first week was spent flying the plains of Dragtharn discussing the best trajectory to take across the Continent.

Dragtharn was wide Kingdom, spanning the breadth of the Continent, though once the swamplands gave way to the plains, there was little to navigate by from the sky until we finally caught sight of their capital city, Skolrag

The Dragtharians were a mostly nomadic people with the ability to change the color and appearance of their skins.

They camouflaged themselves in any terrain, and mimicked the practice with specially made tents and shelters—something Diadre remarked had inspired the Shadekin’s military tents and camps.

Their only landmark visible from a distance was the capital city of Skolrag—an area I’d only approached in battle, and from the south.

By the fourth night I was almost convinced I’d missed it and we might be terribly off course.

It was a massive relief when we finally spied the lights of the city twinkling on the rise of what I’d thought was a dark hill under the moon, just before we landed on the plains before dawn.

“We will have to visit the city tomorrow—only for an hour. I need to put an ear to the ground, to see if we’ve gained on Gall, and if there are any new rumors.”

Diadre, who’d done the meager hunting available here and prepared the furs for sleep, nodded, but her face was tense.

I caught her hand as she passed on her way to the bags and pulled her to a stop next to me.

She stopped abruptly, but her expression remained tense when she met my gaze.

“What is it? If you see something I don’t—”

“No, no. I think it’s good to get some time on the ground tomorrow,” she said. “I think you need to rest more.”

“I told you, we can’t afford the time—”

“Jann, if four or five hours of travel could change the entire course of this mission, we have much bigger problems.”

“That’s not the point—”

“It absolutely is—if you land in Ebonreach weak and exhausted, how are we going to be of any help to anyone? I can feel you. You’re remarkable at not complaining, but you’re in pain from all this flying and carrying me and—”

I pulled her down, into my lap and held her tightly against my chest until she stopped struggling and slumped, her head sweetly under my jaw.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered, her lips brushing my collarbone, which made my skin heat, weary or not.

“Thank you for worrying about me. But you and I both know that pushing ourselves to our limits is what we trained for, and why we were given this task over others. Because we will do it.”

She sighed. “I still think you need to rest more. There’s no way that Gall and Istral, with an entire court or whatever it is that’s following them could be traveling as quickly as we are,” she grumbled.

I agreed and hoped for rest until they caught up. But the following afternoon, we discovered how wrong she was.

Somehow, impossibly, Gall had appeared in Skolrag almost a week earlier. Which meant he arrived there two days after we left Noctharrow.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered to Diadre as we walked out of the city with our bags slung over our shoulders like common travelers. “Vaysh must have been wrong about how recently Gall came through—”

“But your messenger friend said the same thing,” Diadre pointed out. “They must be doing something we can’t do. Maybe they have people flying them overnight or—”

“The Fallen,” I growled as we passed out of the gates of the city set in the wall that blended so perfectly into the brown grasses and rocks of the plains that I had to focus to see them.

Diadre’s eyes snapped to me. “They can fly people more quickly?”

“Who knows what they can do,” I muttered as the last of my hope died that there was a more mortal explanation for this picture.

“But there’s no other explanation. A party of that size would never move as quickly as the two of us.

Yet they’ve gained days? It’s impossible—unless what they’re doing isn’t bound to earth and time. ”

Diadre shivered and since we were passing out of the city and back into the plains, I put a hand to her back then slid it over her hip and pulled her to my side as we walked.

We found a small rise with a thicket of scraggly brush a couple of miles out of the city and took shelter within it for the few hours left of daylight. I’d intended to eat, sleep, love my mate, then fly on, but my mind wouldn’t stop turning over the problem of reaching Gall.

I’d assumed I’d be able to get closer and possibly send Diadre among his entourage, shadow walking to overhear their plans.

The idea of putting her among Nephilim alone had chilled my bones.

But I knew how skilled she was. I’d thought if I could protect her from the weariness of travel and we made our move at night, she’d remain safe.

But if we couldn’t even catch them…

I sat with my back to a half-buried boulder, chewing on a twig to clean my teeth, and looking at the problem from every angle.

“What are you growling about?” Diadre asked.

“My plan isn’t going to work. I need a new one.”

“Which part?” Diadre asked, sitting next to me and leaning back against the rock as well.

“I thought we’d catch Gall and I’d send you in to spy. But they’re moving him more quickly than we can, I’m flying blind. Literally. Not only do I need to warn Melek, but it means we have to make a choice about which capital to visit for news on the way into Ebonreach. Meyrath, or Kyrion Vale?”

Meyrath was the smallest nation on the Continent, and the least powerful—primarily because it was a human nation in the shadow of the Raven peaks.

The Nephilim, my people, took from them as and when we chose.

The strongest and most resilient becoming slaves.

Occasionally some chose the life for themselves and convinced a Nephilim of their value in trade or merchandise.

But most of the best of the Meyrath were owned by Nephilim against their will.

Conversely, the Centaurs of Kyrion Vale were our most powerful, natural enemies.

Their strength matched our own, and they could actually fly.

In theory, they could traverse the Raven Peaks, though none had ever shown a desire to do so.

The greater threat they posed was their incredible abilities and strengths as archers.

Rather than invading our lands, they’d developed powerful weapons and the skills to use them.

Centaurs didn’t shoot arrows, they shot bolts. Nephilim were still mortal.

But then, so were the Centaurs, and their natural bulk, while powerful and swifter on land than we Nephilim, gave us a distinct advantage in the sky.

I explained both peoples to Diadre, adding to the historic knowledge she had of the Kingdoms, and their interactions with mine.

“…I assume Gall will visit both, but if he’s this far ahead already, we waste critical time following. We could gain several days by skipping one or the other—but then I have to wonder which to leave.”

Diadre frowned. “You’d just walk into Braventhall?”

Braventhall was the capital of Kyrion Vale, and the home of the Centaur’s society.

“The Centaurs will not attack until they see a threat,” I muttered. “They pride themselves on wisdom and peace. If anyone—male, female, Nephilim or otherwise—is willing to listen and speak, they will do the same. And they can’t lie.”

Diadre’s brows rose. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“As far as I can tell, they can’t. Melek said he’s seen them refuse to answer when tortured for information—” Diadre winced at that.

“—but never tell a lie. He hoped to form some kind of alliance, or at least a truce with them. But if Gall has passed through there before us… who knows what will have been said or what they might expect?”

“And they’re far further south,” she pointed out.

I nodded. “Beyond the lakes, though. Water is the most precious resource in the plains here, and if we took that route, we’d be grateful for the abundance of the lakes.”

“So, you think we should see the Centaurs? Not the humans?”

I frowned, thinking. Oakstead was the capital of Meyrath, a city under the trees which made a natural shield for the eye and much harder for malignant Nephilim to find their quarry—but also reduced the visibility of the skies from the ground.

The humans there were afraid of us. They’d offer no resistance, and if Gall had already visited, would volunteer the information I needed. No need to dance with words or etiquette to squeeze information from them—and yet, their perspective would be skewed by their fear…

I sighed. “Visit the humans and hear the grandiose tales of the Nephilim, fueled by their fear, but get what we need quickly? Or visit the Centaurs and be forced to navigate and negotiate, but likely hear much more strategic and useful information…?”

“What about your friend?” Diadre added. “Where are you supposed to meet him?”

I huffed. “Never let Caelan hear you refer to her as a man, she’ll slice off your ear,” I chuckled.

“But I have no worries about her finding us. Her instincts are impeccable, and her network of eyes and ears extensive. It’s why I’m desperate to speak with her.

Her overview of the political factions in Ebonreach and the implications of them is second to none.

If I had become King, I would have make her my primary advisor. ”

Diadre looked at me warily. “Her?”

“Yes.”

“Your dear friend, trusted ally, loyal only to you… is a woman?”

I felt the pinch in her through the bond and tipped my head. “Why… is my mate… jealous?” I chuckled.

Diadre’s face was thunderous. “Less jealous, more wondering why you didn’t mention that she was a her before now?”

“I never refer to her in the feminine in anyone else’s company. Even my friend from Noctharrow doesn’t know she’s female. It’s the best cover for any spy, don’t you think?”

“How does she stay safe in Ebonreach if you’re gone?”

I was about to answer easily, when it occurred to me how Diadre might hear the words, and I swallowed them for a moment, frowning.

“What?” my mate asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, only… Well, she won’t be harmed because… she’s mine.”

Diadre went very still. “Your what?”

I swallowed and turned to look at her at my side, but she was staring blankly at the dirt in front of us.

“My… well, I suppose you’d call her my slave.”