Achan glanced across the room to Sparrow. "You bested Larkos?"
The boy's cheeks flushed. "I caught him slightly unaware."
"So let us at least consider the prince's options for matrimony," Sir Caleb said.
Achan groaned and went back to searching for his clothes.
"The first question is being, an ally or an enemy?" Inko said. "A marriage that will be strengthening current alliances or one that will be forging new peace?"
"Ally, of course," Sir Caleb said. "Er'Rets isn't strong enough to worry about making peace with known enemies. You see what people are willing to do to gain control."
"Then who is supporting our cause that we're trusting?" Inko asked.
"I can only guess," Sir Caleb said, "but Xulon, Berland, Carmine, Zerah Rock. Probably Mitspah, as well, and Tsaftown. Armonguard, of course."
Achan found the shirt and jerkin Gren had made him. He lifted them to his nose and found them stinking of mildew. Sir Gavin's pack must have gotten wet when they waded to shore. He switched the fancy blue shirt for Gren's brown one anyway.
"Does not Duchess Amal have a daughter?" Sir Caleb asked.
"Several, I'm thinking."
"Now Carm," Sir Caleb said. "She'd be our wisest ally. The North would rally behind a queen from Carm or even Therion."
"Wasn't Esek planning the same?" Inko asked. "Wasn't he trying to wed Averella Amal?"
Achan slipped his jerkin on. "Bran's lady? Didn't Macoun Hadar capture her?"
"Aye." Sir Gavin's eyes shifted. "But she escaped."
"Good." Achan had been feeling responsible for the lady when the trade hadn't happened. He started lacing his jerkin.
"Gavin, you know the duchess," Sir Caleb said. "Do you think she'd speak with us about a betrothal?"
Sparrow squeaked.
Betrothal? "Wait." Achan dropped the laces. "I've never met Lady Averella. You can't expect me to marry a stranger. Besides, she's Bran's girl."
Sir Caleb directed his eyes to Achan. "Kings do it all the time."
"Well, not me."
"This matter could be changing the course of who would be ruling Er'Rets," Inko said.
Achan scowled. "I'll not steal a friend's love or use any woman as barter in a war."
"Why ever not?" Sir Caleb asked.
"I…" Achan ran a hand through his hair. "Why can't I find my own bride?"
"We haven't time for you to comb the countryside in search of love," Sir Caleb said. "Do you know any noblewomen who are heirs to a duchy and come with a large army? Is there another you'd prefer?"
Achan wanted to scream. He didn't want to be king or marry some woman he didn't know. His head spun. He remembered sitting with Esek at his coming-of-age celebration observing the eligible maids of Er'Rets. Esek had found none of them desirable, but Achan had disagreed on one account.
He hesitated. "She must be of noble birth?"
"Aye," Sir Gavin said.
Lady Tara. He could think of no one else. He said in a small voice, "What of Lady Tara of Tsaftown?"
"Tsaftown is at the end of Er'Rets. No one much cares who they support," Sir Caleb said.
"But I've met Lady Tara. I like her. She was kind to me when she thought me a stray. Plus, she's beautiful."
"Ah. Forgive me, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said. "I thought we were attempting to save all Er'Rets from Darkness and peril, but Arman forbid our prince marry someone plain."
"That's unfair. I shouldn't have to marry anyone."
"That's the way of kings."
"Well, it's also the way of kings to…to change things," Achan sputtered. "To-to- to make new laws."
"Don't be ridiculous, boy," Sir Caleb said.
"Well…am I king?"
Everyone went silent.
Achan sucked in a sharp breath, horrified he'd used Esek's pompous catchphrase. "I–I'm sorry."
"Have no fear, Your Highness." Sir Gavin set a hand on Achan's shoulder and squeezed. "You'll not have to decide this day. It'll be a month before we free our men and many more until we reach Armonguard. You have until then."
*
Leather saddlebags creaked, hooves clomped, and tails swished at mosquitoes as the horses carried them through the dark void. North, supposedly. Sir Caleb had tethered the animals with his rope, so there was no need to steer. Still, it felt awkward to sit atop a horse again, especially in Darkness, but Achan liked Scout. The sleek black horse had a gentle disposition. Achan sensed he was eager to leave Mirrorstone.
Achan had ridden only once before, under Sir Gavin's instruction. He tried to figure how much time had passed, but the weeks blurred together. He'd left Sitna in early summer. The battle had taken him out for days, then he'd sat in prison for another week or so. They'd been in Darkness five days now. So maybe a month had passed since he'd left Sitna?
It felt like years.
Whether Lord Eli had known of Lady Jaira's treason was unclear, but he'd been more than generous providing horses, food, and supplies for the journey.
The horses soon entered the marshlands. Their footsteps reminded Achan of the sound Gren's feet made when stomping wool in the fulling water. Gren was the only woman he loved enough to marry, and she'd married Riga. He closed his eyes and focused on her face.
Suddenly it was as if he were elsewhere. The dank smell of urine filled his nostrils, making him feel like he was standing beside Gren as she stomped in her tub. But the smell was stronger than fulling water alone. Cold dampness pressed in on Achan. He shivered.
Riga's voice filled Achan's mind. You're full of dung, knight. I don't believe it.
Truth is truth. Doesn't matter whether you believe it, a man's familiar voice said.
I believe it, Gren said.
Grenny, don't be daft. That goat boy is no king.
Why else would we be here, Riga? You think Lord Nathak would jail us for talking to this knight? Now that's daft.
How was this possible? He'd only thought of Gren and-
"Achan!" Sir Gavin's voice pulled him away from the prison cell. "Stay with us, now. We don't want your mind wandering off."
"I'm here." But Achan's pulse throbbed. What had he seen? Could it have been real? Could Gren really be in prison-and because of him? Esek had done this. Achan had forgotten Esek's threat to hurt Gren and her family if Achan left his service. But what could Achan do? He was so far away.
Arman, help her.
A sharp ping needled Achan's temple. Sir Gavin.
Achan lowered his defenses to allow Sir Gavin inside. He was getting better at this.
'Tis a long journey, lad. And now that we're riding horses, we can practice without fear of walking into a tree. We must perfect your ability to bloodvoice. Vrell's going to practice with us. I'll invite him into our counsel now.
Achan's body rocked in the saddle. He closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again. No difference. Amazing how horses could see in the dark. If they neared a cliff, would Scout stop or plummet over the side? Achan sensed himself falling-
A soft prick to his temple. Vrell Sparrow.
Achan shook away from his wandering thoughts, embarrassed he'd lost control so quickly. He opened to Sparrow, and the boy's mind floated into Achan's head.
Achan could hear nothing from Sparrow. How do you guard your thoughts so well? I've never once been inside your head. I mean, I can speak to you, but not see through your eyes.
You are strong in some ways, but so am I. Arman has given us both what we need to serve our purpose in this life. At least you're shielding well. It no longer hurts to talk to you.