In the end, she huffed at them a final time. “Go set up your camp. I need a drink.”
“That went well,” Caelan muttered.
Drayce shoved a hand into his hair and scratched his scalp. “Should…should one of us try talking to her?”
“You want to go in there when you know she’s armed?” Eno mocked.
“Nope. I thought you could go. Or Rayne. He can be calming…sometimes.”
Rayne shook his head. “Let’s just set up our tents as directed. Prepare for the evening. If we’re lucky, this will be less dangerous than camping in the Ordas.”
“True, but you’re still going to practice putting the shield over the camp tonight,” Caelan said, pointing at Rayne. His advisor didn’t look happy about that idea at all, but he nodded before heading toward the vehicle with their things.
Leaving Vale to calm down with whatever alcohol she likely had stashed in her yurt, they worked on setting up the tents they’d acquired in Sirelis. They were incredibly similar to what they’d used in the Ordas, but within minutes of putting them up, it was clear they wouldn’t see them through the colder temperatures if they continued to head into higher altitudes. Summer was dwindling fast in this part of Zastrad. How much longer until it started to snow?
Between the yurt village they’d already visited and what he could see of Vale’s smaller yurt, the construction and material were made for the colder temperature and brutal wind. As Caelan was rolling out his sleeping bag next to Drayce’s, though, he found himself smiling over the memory of them laughing and wrestling in the tent while in the Ordas, Drayce spinning a crazy tale of him saving Caelan from the deadly kiss of a femme fatale. That was never fucking happening. No, he was keeping Drayce with him always.
Eno and Rayne had just finished unloading the rest of their supplies from the car when Vale left her yurt. She had a bottle of amber liquid in one hand and a huge slab of raw meat in the other. She slapped the meat on a flat rock near the fire pit and gently placed the bottle on the ground beside it.
“Would you like some assistance with the cooking duties?” Rayne offered.
Vale stopped, her arched brows snapping together over her nose. “Are you his cook?”
Drayce made a choking noise and darted off behind the car before Rayne could throw a knife at him.
To Rayne’s credit, he didn’t flush at the question. He offered up a little bow as he said, “Rayne Laurent, official advisor to King Caelan.” He twisted and motioned toward Eno. “This is Eno Bevyn, the king’s bodyguard, and that nuisance is Drayce Ladon, the king’s other bodyguard.”
“And his bestie!” Drayce shouted, peeking out from behind the trunk.
“We’ve brought food stuffs along from Caspagir. It is probably best if we use it soon before it goes bad,” Rayne continued, ignoring Drayce as only he could.
“Really?” For the first time since they’d met her, Vale perked up and appeared actually happy. “Like vegetables? Maybe some bread?”
“I believe we have a bit left.” Rayne turned to Eno, but he never said a word. The bodyguard had already picked up the box of food and was bringing it closer.
“I’ll work on the fire while you and Vale sort through the food. Figure out dinner,” Eno offered as he set the box between them.
The camp grew more companionable while Rayne and Vale were distracted with food. Eno gathered up wood and set about starting a fire, while Drayce walked the perimeter of the camp, checking to make sure that no one was close by and potentially watching them.
With a pot of stew bubbling over the fire and a handful of semi-fresh strawberries in her stomach, Vale seemed a little more willing to talk. Or at the very least, calmer about it.
“The heart of Zastrad is built around Mrtyu. It became the capital because it’s supposedly where they found the bones or some kind of remains of the Dead God,” Vale murmured. She picked up a stick and halfheartedly poked at the fire. The sun was still a ways off from setting, but the air was growing cooler.
Caelan glanced across the fire at Rayne, who was sitting next to Vale. Their eyes met and it was as though he could already read the man’s mind. It had to be the godstone. It was as close as the leaders of Zastrad could come to saying the godstone without using the word.
“Then it’s where we need to go,” Caelan said firmly.
“No offense, Your Majesty, but that’s fucking insane. Outsiders are not welcome in Zastrad. They are vaguely tolerated near the borders simply because of trade, but foreigners don’t come into the country. The farther you venture in, the more you stick out and the more dangerous it becomes. I’ve been here almost five years, and I’ve dedicated every second of that to blending in with these people. I don’t think I could pass in Mrtyu.”