Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

They found their horses, as well as an extra one for Etcher, along with their gear in a nearby barn. Finlin briefly stuck his nose out of the mill and waved. They waved back, and Royce had a short talk with Etcher as Hadrian saddled their animals and loaded the supplies. Arista threw her own saddle on her mare, which garnered a smile from Hadrian.

“Saddle your own horse often, do you?” he asked as she reached under the horse’s belly for the cinch. The metal ring at the end of the wide band swung back and forth, making catching it a challenge without crawling under the animal.

“I’m a princess, not an invalid.”

She caught the cinch and looped the leather strap through it, tying what she thought was a fine knot, exactly like the one she used to tie her hair.

“Can I make one minor suggestion?”

She looked up. “Of course.”

“You need to tie it tighter and use a flat knot.”

“That’s two suggestions. Thanks, but I think it’ll be fine.”

He reached up and pulled on the saddle’s horn. The saddle easily slid off and came to rest between the horse’s legs.

“But it was tight.”

“I’m sure it was.” Hadrian pulled the saddle back up and undid the knot. “People think horses are stupid—dumb animals, they call them—but they’re not. This one, for instance, just out-smarted the Princess of Melengar.” He pulled the saddle off, folded the blanket over, and returned the saddle to the animal’s back. “You see, horses don’t like to have a saddle bound around their chest any more than I suspect you enjoy being trussed up in a corset. The looser, the better, they figure, because they don’t really mind if you slide off.” He looped the leather strap through the ring in the cinch and pulled it tight. “So what she’s doing right now is holding her breath, expanding her chest and waiting for me to tie the saddle on. When she exhales, it’ll be loose. Thing is, I know this. I also know she can’t hold her breath forever.” He waited with two hands on the strap, and the moment the mare exhaled, he pulled, gaining a full four inches. “See?”

She watched as he looped the strap across, then through and down, making a flat knot that laid comfortably against the horse’s side. “Okay, I admit it. This is the first time I’ve saddled a horse,” she confessed.

“And you’re doing wonderfully,” he mocked.

“You are aware I can have you imprisoned for life, right?”

Royce and Etcher entered the barn. The younger thief grabbed his horse and left without a word.

“Friendly sorts, those Diamonds are,” Hadrian observed.

“Cosmos seemed hospitable,” Arista pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s how you might expect a spider to talk to a fly as she wraps him up.”

“What an interesting metaphor,” Arista noted. “You could have a future in politics, Hadrian.”

He glanced at Royce. “We never considered that as one of the options.”

“I’m not sure how it differs from acting.”

“He never likes my ideas,” Hadrian told her, then turned his attention back to Royce. “Where to now?”

“Hintindar,” Royce replied.

“Hintindar? Are you serious?”

“It’s out of the way and a good place to disappear for a while. Problem?”

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. “You know darn well there’s a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” Arista asked.

“I was born in Hintindar.”

“I’ve already told Etcher that’s where we’ll wait for him,” Royce said. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“But Hintindar is just a tiny manorial village—some farms and trade shops. There’s no place to stay.”

“Even better. After Colnora, lodging in a public house might not be too smart. There must be a few people there that still know you. I’m sure someone will lend a hand and put us up for a while. We need to go somewhere off the beaten track.”

“You don’t honestly think anyone is still following us. I know the empire would want to stop Arista from reaching Gaunt, but I doubt anybody recognized her in Colnora—at least no one still alive.”

Royce did not answer.

“Royce?”

“I’m just playing it safe,” he snapped.

“Royce? What did Cosmos mean back there about you not being the only ex-Diamond in Warric? What was that talk of ghosts all about?” Royce remained silent. Hadrian glared at him. “I came along as a favor to you, but if you’re going to keep secrets …”

Royce relented. “It’s probably nothing, but then again—Merrick could be after us.”

Hadrian lost his look of irritation and replied with a simple, “Oh.”

“Anyone going to tell me who Merrick is?” Arista asked. “Or why Hadrian doesn’t want to go home?”

“I didn’t leave under the best of circumstances,” Hadrian answered, “and haven’t been back in a long time.”

“And Merrick?”

“Merrick Marius, also known as Cutter, was Royce’s friend once. They were members of the Diamond together, but they …” He glanced at Royce. “Well, let’s just say they had a falling out.”

“So?”

Hadrian waited for Royce to speak and, when he did not, answered for him. “It’s a long story, but the gist of the matter is that Merrick and Royce seriously don’t get along.” He paused, then added, “Merrick is an awful lot like Royce.”

Arista continued to stare at Hadrian until the revelation dawned on her.

“Still, that doesn’t mean Merrick is after us,” Hadrian went on. “It’s been a long time, right? Why would he bother with you now?”

“He’s working for the empire,” Royce said. “That’s what Cosmos meant. And if there’s an imperial mole in the Diamond, Merrick knows all about us by now. Even if there isn’t a spy, Merrick could still find out about us from the Diamond. There are plenty who think of him as a hero for sending me to Manzant. I’m the evil one in their eyes.”

“You were in Manzant?” Arista asked, stunned.

“It’s not something he likes to talk about.” Hadrian again answered for him. “So if Merrick is after us, what do we do?”

“What we always do,” Royce replied, “only better.”





The village of Hintindar lay nestled in a small sheltered river valley surrounded by gentle hills. A patchwork of six cultivated fields, outlined by hedgerows and majestic stands of oak and ash, decorated the landscape in a crop mosaic. Horizontal lines of mounded green marked three of the fields with furrows, sown in strips, to hold the runoff. Animals grazed in the fourth field and the fifth was cut for hay. The last field lay fallow. Young women were in the fields, cutting flax and stuffing it in sacks thrown over their shoulders, while men weeded crops and threw up hay.