Chapter 214 Relief

Chapter 214 Relief

If you like music while you read, try "Sunrise" by Our Last Night. It's what I was listening to while writing these chapters.

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ETAN

Borsche had practically wrestled him to the ground to stop him from running back to the City when they saw the gates open, and just minutes later, shapes that soon clearly became the shapes of Ayleth and Falek on their horses.

He'd waited impatiently the few minutes for them to make it to the bend in the road and the tree cover from any watchers of the City, and he was there, waiting when they turned into the trees. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

He vaguely registered a strange tension between Ayleth and Falek, but it was blown from his mind when Ayleth leaped off her mare and ran to him, throwing herself into his chest.

She clung, not crying, nor speaking, simply clutching herself to him, her head buried under his chin and arms tight around him.

He stroked her hair and breathed his relief and gratitude that she was safe.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I'm completely safe."

Falek dismounted as well and he and Borsche clasped forearms, then immediately launched into a muttered discussion of the things they'd learned from their sources.

While Etan still held Ayleth, Borsche nodded and clapped his back. "We need to get moving," he said.

"In a moment," Etan growled. He was having trouble letting go of Ayleth, and it seemed she struggled with the same affliction.

It was several minutes before they could bear to be parted enough to mount their horses, and even then, they held hands, riding knee to knee.

But for the first time, Ayleth seemed worried about being close to him in that way, casting glances back over her shoulder frequently, though they were in the forest, not on the road, so the only person behind them was her Knight.

"Did something happen?" Etan asked her, looking back at Falek to include him in the question. "Are you worried we're being followed?"

"No, no," Ayleth said, but gave an uneasy glance back to Falek. "I'm only worried—Falek hasn't slept at all. How many hours will we travel today? We will rest before traveling more in the night, correct? I want him to get some rest."

Etan looked back at Falek, who met his gaze evenly. But the man did look pale, and a little tense, even for him.

"Isn't that a blessing?"

Borsche shrugged. "If it's real, certainly. But I fear that I have missed something."

"Perhaps the Father has simply decided we've finally been through enough."

Borsche raised an eyebrow. "I'll believe that when I see it," he whispered, with a huff of laughter. "In any case, it just doesn't make sense that we haven't seen signs of your father's army—if the messengers have already reached Anvor, the fighters can't be far behind. That we have traveled this far with no interference just doesn't make sense."

"Of course it does, we can travel must faster than an army—which is what her parents will be bringing."

Borsche fixed intense eyes on him. "Faster than an army, certainly, but not faster than the skilled assassins and spies her father commands. I struggled in the Palace, Etan. His people are not to be dismissed. They are very skilled. I am not confident I wasn't exposed, or at least suspected."

Etan wanted to reassure his man, but the truth was, Borsche would know better. But Borsche also always looked for the risks. So, as Etan sank into sleep that afternoon, he had only a niggle of concerns.

And over the coming days, when they still traveled unhindered, and there was yet no sign of the Zenithrans, Etan's courage was bolstered.

Two days later they passed over the borders into Summitras and Etan took a deep and cleansing breath with a smile on his face.

He was home—or in his homelands, at least. He had his wife, and she was safe. They were in Summitras, which meant they could rely on help from any they found in the event of a conflict.

But there had been no conflict, yet. He would return to the Castle first, find Quwan, prepare the army for war, and have the Kingdom ready when his father arrived.

He would make his father proud. He would keep his wife safe.

And everything would be—if not easy, certainly worthwhile.

He grieved the need for war, but perhaps when the Zenithrans learned the true might of the Summitran army and cavalry, perhaps war could be averted by negotiation.

Perhaps...

He would not dismiss the idea.

He would hope. And he would pray.