Page 31 of To Touch A Silent Fury (The Bride of Eavenfold #1)

The Scentlands, however, had more loudly denounced my actions.

I had killed Canenrill’s second son, as well as a valued and wealthy landowner.

There were rumblings of war, of a breaking of the Triad.

Such was only stayed by his wife, my aunt—Hyamis—who pleaded in our favour.

Still, their anger ran deep, and Gossamir’s bounty came at a good time.

My posting here had kept me out of the courtly eye for a few years, but Braxthorn could not avoid sending men with me who followed the banner of those I had slain .

Thankfully, my actions had also sowed a horrid amount of terror within the Triad.

Braxthorn believed me when I told him that was my intent all along. A display of strength, a reminder of the Hammer that came before, that could fall again in a moment. Derynallis did not.

It was better to be up here, even around men like Slash who feared and hated me in equal measure, than to be there, around vultures playing games with their thrones.

I focused in again on Slash, his angry brown eyes contained only by his wariness. “If an elite mass of highly trained tribesfolk somehow made it down and camped out in Junisper, what would you do?”

He thought for a moment, then growled. “Gather my men and flush them out like Nox-riddled rats.”

I nodded. “Even if they made no attempt to fight back? They just stayed there, in your woods?”

“I’d still keep at them, Your Grace,” he said, looking out into the woods around us as if he would see one right now and prove his example. “Pick them off until they went back to where they came from.”

“And if they started killing you all, in your own lands,” I said. “What, then?”

He scowled at me, as if I was somehow criticising his loyalty. “I’d petition King Canenrill to destroy them. The might of the Triad would wipe them to nothing.”

“Exactly.”

The meaning fell on him slowly, like a sack of feathers dropping. But he made it there before Lord Ravillin, who still looked confused.

“I am not afraid of King Odenor,” Slash said.

“You should be. The tribes are united against us already, for we have killed their trees to build our barracks. But may Edrin help us, should we start to kill their men in truth.” I thrust enough meaning into it, enough implication of hidden strength and force that it sobered both the men before me.

Slash looked to Ravillin, then back to me. “I apologise, Your Grace.”

“It is forgiven, soldier,” I said, and half-meant it. “I know these have been a hard few years, and nothing harder than these last weeks.”

Slash grunted. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

They looked between them, and I could tell they were waiting to be dismissed once more. I let the moment sit, the cool night winds carrying fresh smoke into our faces.

I raised my hand to wave them off, but paused just before, as if remembering something for the first time.

“Oh, Lord Ravillin.” He straightened. “Do see that your men are accompanied at all times by at least one other. And I mean at all times. I shouldn’t want any further misfortune to befall a lone soldier. ”

I did not look at Slash again, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him pale. He would be spitting with rage in the barracks later. No doubt he wouldn’t call me ‘Your Grace’, then. No, he would use my other name. The Scourge of Courvin.

“As you say,” Lord Ravillin said.

“Dismissed.”

They turned on their heels and walked away. Their steps were short and backs rigid until they were long out of my sight.

“That won’t be popular.” Foxlin stepped up beside me and tutted. “You should hear the way they talk about Slash. The men love him.”

“I won’t have any of my men thinking they are above the law.”

“There are no laws out here.” He waved his arm at the night sky, partially obscured by the tendrils of branches and splatters of dark leaves. “There is only a natural order of things. Life and death. ”

I rolled my eyes at him. “And to avoid the death of all my men, I don’t think we should encourage murder.”

Foxlin sighed. “I don’t disagree with you, Lang. You know I don’t. But these men are exhausted, and those bastards’ fucking traps have claimed too many.”

“I know.” Once more, I sighed. It seemed a habit at this point, the large exhalation of dismal hopes and fraying nerves. It had been a long fucking span. “They found the silver mine.”

“Took them long enough. You still want to leave it?”

“I’m sure as Mephluan’s grace not sending a squad of men laden with their silver all the way from here to the border.”

“What will Braxthorn think of it?”

My father. It always came back to him. But he was my problem to deal with. “We’re nearly done here. Silver is nothing compared to the value of a dragon.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “Come now, let’s return home.”

“That place isn’t my home,” Foxlin said, but he turned into the dark nonetheless.

I swivelled on my heel, and froze.

I saw it again.

A flash in the darkness, lit by the fire at my back. Bright, and then gone just as quickly. I blinked rapidly, staring at the tree line.

I knew rationally that it must have been some creature, one which had fled upon our movement. It was the same thing I told myself last time, the same thing I struggled to believe now.

“And once you are back, your father will have lined up every eligible lady in the Triad for your hand,” Foxlin said, already steps ahead.

“Don’t remind me,” I murmured, but my mind was elsewhere, staring off into the trees.

“You cannot tell me you would rather be out here?” he replied, looking over his shoulder .

I made no reply, wandering aimlessly after him.

“Stop!” Foxlin yelled.

The noise was so huge in the silence of the forest that I stopped dead, my heart pounding. Before me was a patch of moss. Unnatural in its thickness, with no obvious hold. Displaced.

A trap. Not even one of their more sophisticated ones. I’d nearly walked straight into it.

I knelt down at its edge, and Foxlin called back to the men at the fire for assistance. Carefully, I pushed the moss away, revealing a cross-hatch of vines covering a hole filled with spikes.

I looked up at Foxlin. “Thank you, my friend.”

He looked back with pure incredulity. “You’re a trained Sightlander, with dragon eyes besides. You’ve never missed a trap.”

An owl hooted above us as I stood and brushed wet leaves off my knees. “First time for everything.”

Foxlin shook his head. “Keep your secret if you must, but you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

I hummed, but I kept my eyes focused as we returned to camp. Part of me wanted to keep looking, trying to find them again.

That pair of perfectly white eyes.

But maybe Foxlin was right, and she was nothing more than a ghost.