Page 65 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

I grabbed Diadre’s upper arms and leaned down, searching her eyes. “How do you know this?”

Her lips twisted and she folded her arms, but she didn’t avert her eyes as she answered. “I found a village and walked the shadows to listen to their—”

“I fucking knew it!” I spat. “So fucking dangerous and you were alone?!”

“It was nighttime, they didn’t even know I was there. I knew we couldn’t leave this place until we understood what had happened, and why they were attacking. And you were so deeply asleep. It was a good use of time, Jann.”

“It was a fucking risk.”

She tipped her head and her brows rose. “That’s what we do, Jann, remember? That’s our job, you said that. We were sent for this mission because we will do what needs to be done… right?”

I spluttered. “Yes, but—”

“No buts. I asked you what you’d do if our responsibilities took us apart—”

“Meaning that we were assigned those tasks. We aren’t in Theynor anymore, Dee. You can’t throw your life away for the sake of intelligence we might not even need—”

“I did not throw my life away.”

“One slip,” I growled. “The Centaurs are easily as strong as me, and while they are usually a lot slower to attack, we already know they’re shooting first now. It was reckless—”

“It was necessary!”

“You’re being flippant with your life!”

“No, Jann, I’m doing what needs to be done because I can. It’s what I’m good at—and if I hadn’t we wouldn’t know Gall passed through here almost three weeks ago.”

I went still, my mind reeling. “That’s impossible!”

“I thought so too, but I heard it from four different sources, and in all cases it was casually mentioned as if everyone knew it for fact.”

I straightened, keeping my face blank against the pain and shaking my head. “That can’t… there’s no way they covered that kind of ground—”

“It can’t be the real Gall, Jann. The Fallen… they have to be impersonating him. Right? The Centaurs are talking about him growing angry at a youngster and striking a blow. He almost killed the poor kid.”

What? No. There was no way—

“Jann, whoever is doing this, he’s appearing as a true ruler—intimidating, and powerful.

One of the females I listened to had seen him with her own eyes, and she was begging her mate not to fight.

She believed Gall could level her Centaur husband.

She grieved for the young one he hurt, but said it was a mercy he hadn’t attacked the males.

To her he seemed… impossible to defeat—and she wasn’t speaking of an army, or guards. She used his name.”

I swallowed hard. “Rumors and gossip—”

Diadre shook her head. “Wait until you hear the rest. Because you need to decide what message we’re sending back to Melek. I’m afraid we’ve misjudged this, and he needs to be looking for the true Gall and Istral. This can’t be them. It simply can’t.”

“There’s no messengers out here,” I growled. “If he crossed the Raven Peaks weeks ago we have to get into Ebonreach and get news of what’s happened there—”

“I found a scribe in that village—they're on the border with Meyrath and they have runners—”

“No, Diadre. You are not going back into the—”

My mate planted her fists on her hips and glared at me. “I am. I did. And this is what I do, Jann. Now, I listened to you when we were in your terrain, but this kind of fight is mine . As long as you have to rest, I’m gathering intelligence to arm us and Melek and Yilan.”

“Not alone.”

“It’s safer alone. Far less likely for me to be discovered, and besides, you can barely walk. What are you going to do—fly a patrol to find me?”

I growled and suddenly her face softened. She put that hand back on my chest and I clapped mine over it, needing to feel her and remind myself that she was unhurt.

But as I was about to insist that she reconsider, she gave me a little shove, and with a spluttering growl, I overbalanced and almost fell. Diadre grabbed my wrist and caught my weight enough to give me counter-balance until I was steady again—but glaring.

Right into her very grim face.

“You need to sit down and keep healing.”

“You caught me off-guard because I trust you—”

“Jann, please stop. I know it’s scary when your body lets you down, but you will heal and until then, we need to make the most of the time we have. So, please, go back to the hammock and lay down. I’ll cook and fill you in and we’ll discuss the best way to do this. Together.”

I opened my mouth to argue—then realized she’d presented a very valid plan. Except for the laying down part. If it was true I’d slept longer than a day, I needed to move to loosen and stretch muscles. And I told her so.

She shook her head again. “No, you need to sit in that hammock and let me massage your back and work those muscles for you,” she muttered, turning back towards the hammock.

And I would have argued that point too, but the moment she said the words, she sent an image of me, naked and sitting, with her seated behind me, her hands all over my back and… and I found that idea quite appealing.

Grumbling so she wouldn’t think I’d given in, I did as she suggested, led her back to the hammock and sat down—slowly, carefully, because my body still complained.

But once I was in the hammock, Diadre climbed up behind me, opened her legs around my hips and let the hammock’s tension keep her pinned against me.

Then she opened that bag she’d brought with her and drew out a small bottle, unstopping it and pouring a small amount of herbal-scented oil into her palm.

And then she began to massage my back, her hands small but strong, kneading, sliding, pressing—even her elbows digging into the muscles at one point—and she carefully and strategically outlined what she had learned so far, and what she hoped to find when she went back this evening.

I growled at that, but didn’t interrupt her, the growl becoming a groan and flinch when her massage hit the core of the sore muscles on my back.

But soon, even her hands on my skin couldn’t distract me from what she showed me in my head—and what it meant for our world.

Gall, entering Braventhall as a ruler already on the throne—with heralds and wealth and command. Power.

Gall, ignoring the traditions and making an already uneasy population of Centaurs twitch with his words and actions.

And a young Centaur, curious and childlike, getting in his path when a disagreement with the Council had Gall striding out of their chambers with a threat to fire the forest if they didn’t sign a truce.

‘…he walloped the baby,’ she sent sadly.

‘No one knew at first, because it was during his retreat. The child wasn’t supposed to be on that path.

The females are weeping about it still. Almost killed the colt.

He’s still recovering. If they’d seen it happen, they would have leaped on him, even with his guards and power.

That’s why they attacked when you gave them the signal.

They thought it was Gall returning to make good on his threat and they have vowed vengeance. ’

Oh, dear God. The Centaurs were incredibly patient and slow to rise to conflict, but once they did…

“Jann… they’ve named the Neph a traitorous state.”

I stilled, my jaw going slack. “No, they can’t have—”

“Yes. You can not show your face, or approach any Centaur. They will kill you if they can,” she said quietly. “Good thing you’ve got me to be your spy, I guess?”