Ieduin caught her in the hall near where they’d had dinner. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled free of his grasp, eager to change the subject. “What did the scouts have to say?”
“Not much,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Bunch of bandits are holed up southeast of here, probably being supported by Trinta. There’s another group to the west that I’m more worried about. They’re marauding along the border, burning any farms and crops they come across, killing the farmers and their families… I’d like to dispatch some Crows to take care of them, but we don’t know where their base of operations is. I sent someone to track them, see if we can’t find out. Lastly, a force of Trintan soldiers about twelve hundred strong is massing at the northern border. I think they mean to cross through the highlands and come at us from the high ground.”
“Enemies in the south, west, and north. Never mind that there’s a necromancer out there, too, and we have no idea where.” Rixxis shook her head as they started walking together. “They’re trying to divide our attention.”
“They all need to be dealt with. If we leave the bandits to burn everything, there won’t be enough food to go around come winter, and the ones holed up in the south are hitting every merchant caravan that comes through here, bringing trade to a standstill. But if I move a large enough force to engage either or both, I risk not having enough men here to defend Greymark. Somehow, I’ve got to figure out which order to fight them in, how to divide our forces, and how to restore a badly broken supply line, and I’ve only got a few weeks to do it before the first snow hits. If Trinta doesn’t crush us first.”
“We’ll get it figured out,” Rixxis promised. “But can it wait for tomorrow? You look exhausted.”
He rubbed his face. “Iamexhausted, but I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve run the numbers again to see if I’ve missed something. You go on. Warm the sheets up for me.” Ieduin gave her a tired wink and stretched.
“Only if you promise to come to bed. Otherwise, I’m filling your side with ice.”
“That’s not a very good threat, Rixxis. As hot as you run, it’ll be a puddle in a few seconds and then you’ll have to sleep in a wet bed. And since I won’t be in said bed, I won’t even notice. Where are you going to get all that ice, anyway? It’s not even winter yet.”
She snorted. “Stop poking holes in my devious plan.”
Ieduin chuckled. “You don’t have a devious bone in your body. Compared to me, you’re a damn saint.”
They paused at a crossroads in the hallways and turned to face each other.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Rixxis?” Ieduin asked.
She sighed and gave a longing look down the hall, wanting nothing more than to just fall into bed and forget about Rowan and what’d happened in that room. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later.” Without a thought, she bent down and planted a kiss on Ieduin’s cheek.
It wasn’t until she was halfway back to their room that she realized she’d never kissed him before, either.
Seven
Ruithstaredupatthe massive building of eighteen stories in the center of D’thallanar. Every story had its own wraparound balcony and eves that rose to a point. The flags of the twelve clans and the Yeutlands waved in the breeze, one at each corner. High above, at the highest point, stood the crossed swords of Clan Deepfrost, next to a black flag of mourning.
A generation ago, his mother had been trapped there, held prisoner on the highest floor, a prisoner of her blood as much as her cousin. For eighteen days, she ruled as the captive queen, the very seat of the elvish government under siege. Once, Ruith had believed that Taratheil’s siege of the Hall of Wisdom was about power, a coup to oust the monarchy and install a republic.
Instead, the eighteen-day siege of the Hall of Wisdom had never been about power. It was for love.
From the ground, Ruith peered up at the highest window where Queen Siriyama was said to light a candle every night, signaling to Taratheil that she yet lived and hoped for a rescue. If Eris and his child were being held captive, even by her own family as his mother had been, Ruith would have fought his way through twelve armies to get to her, too.
It was a strange feeling, to stand where his father must’ve stood, feeling some shadow of what his father must’ve felt. The future he wanted to build seemed within reach, and yet it was so distant he could barely imagine it. He did not feel worthy of the dream he clung to.
Standing in the shadow of the ancient Hall of Wisdom reminded him he was still tiny in the grand tapestry of history. Someday, Ruith the person would be forgotten, and all that would remain would be the legacy he built. Names died; deeds endured, a fact that Taratheil had impressed upon him. If only he had been wise enough in his youth to realize the truth of those words.
Ruith looked down at his son standing to his right. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as Taratheil.
“Did you ever think you would see it again?” Aryn asked next to him.
Ruith looked at Aryn, who was straining his neck to look up at the highest window. “No. You?”
Aryn frowned and lowered his eyes to the door ahead. “You forget who I am. WhatIam. The blood of a bastard likely flows through my veins. I’m not from one of these great clans, and I have no place here. I have never been closer than this to the Hall of Wisdom, Ruith.”
Isheda frowned and leaned forward. “You’ve never conductedbusinesshere?”
Aryn gave him a disgusted look. “Don’t insult my art. Shikami are still elves, and we had our principals. Shedding blood in the House of Wisdom is forbidden. Not only that, but it would be sloppy. Cleaner to do it elsewhere.”
“Come,” Ruith said and put a hand on Faelyn’s shoulder, guiding him forward. “Let’s not keep the Sagacious Assembly waiting.”
They came to the first barrier two hundred feet out from the entrance. Here, a company of elite guards manned the arches that served as entrances to the hall grounds. They surrendered their weapons and entered. Without his sword, Ruith felt naked and utterly exposed. It was a cold comfort to know that he wasn’t the only one, as Aryn had handed over eight daggers. That didn’t mean he was unarmed, but Aryn seemed to take this all seriously, especially for an assassin.