“Degan, you’re next,” Hadrian informed him.
“You are joking,” Gaunt replied. “You don’t expect me to go down there?”
“Kinda why you’re here.”
“That’s insane. What if the rope breaks? What if we can’t reach the bottom? What if we can’t get back up? I’m not doing this. It’s—it’s ridiculous!”
Hadrian just stared at him, holding the harness.
“I won’t.”
“You have to,” Arista told him. “I don’t know why, but I know the Heir of Novron must accompany us for this trip to be successful. Without you there’s no need for any of us to go.”
“Then fine, none of us go!”
“If we don’t, the elves will kill everyone.”
He looked at her and then at the others with a desperate, pleading face. “How do you know this? I mean, how do you know I have to come?”
“Esrahaddon told me.”
“That loon?”
“He was a wizard.”
“He’s dead. If he was so all-knowing, how come he’s dead? Huh?”
“Waiting down here,” Alric shouted up.
“You have to go,” Arista told him.
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t be emperor.”
“What good is being emperor if I’m dead?”
No one spoke; they all just looked at him.
Degan slumped his shoulders and grimaced. “How do you put this damn thing on?”
“Put your feet through the loops and buckle it around your waist,” Hadrian explained.
After Gaunt and Arista were down, Wyatt took over Hadrian’s position on the rope, freeing him to speak with Renwick. “You have supplies to last a week, perhaps more if you conserve,” he told him and the other boys as they gathered around. “Take care of the horses and stay off the hilltop. Make camp in that hollow. For your own safety, I’d avoid a fire in the daylight. The smoke will be visible at a distance. It would be best not to attract any uninvited guests.”
“We can handle ourselves,” Brand declared.
“I’m sure you can, but still it would be best not to wander, and try to keep unnoticed.”
“I want to go with you,” Renwick said.
“Me too,” Mince added.
Hadrian smiled. “You’re all very brave.”
“Not me,” Elbright said. “A man would have to be a royal fool to go into something like that.”
“So you’re the sensible one,” Hadrian told him. “Still, we need all of you to do your job here. Keep the camp, and take care of the horses for us. If we aren’t back in a week, I suspect we won’t be coming back and it will probably be too late if we do. If you see fire in the north or west, that will likely mean the elves have overrun Aquesta or Ratibor. Your best bet would be to go south. Perhaps try to catch a ship to the Westerlins. Although I have no idea what you’ll find there.”
“You’ll be back,” Renwick said confidently.
Hadrian gave the boy a hug, then turned to look at the monk, who was, as usual, with the horses. “Com’on, Myron, it’s nearly your turn.”
Myron nodded, petting his animal one last time, whispering to it. Hadrian put an arm around him as they walked toward the ridge, where Wyatt and Mauvin were in the process of lowering Magnus.
“What did you say to Royce last night?” Hadrian asked the monk.
“I just spoke with him briefly about loss and coping with it.”
“Something you read?”
“Sadly, no.”
Hadrian waited for more, but the monk was silent. “Well, whatever it was, it worked. He’s—I don’t know—alive again. Not singing songs and dancing, of course. If he did that, I suppose I’d worry. But you know, kinda normal, in a Royce sort of way.”
“He’s not,” Myron replied. “And he’ll never be the way he was again. There’s always a scar.”
“Well, I’m just saying the difference is like summer and winter. You should be thanked, even if Royce will never say it. There aren’t many who would face him like that. It’s like pulling a thorn from a lion’s paw. I love Royce, but he is dangerous. The life he’s lived denied him a proper understanding of right and wrong. He wasn’t kidding when he said he might have killed you.”
“I know.”
“Really?”
Myron nodded. “Of course.”
“You didn’t even seem worried. What happened to my little naive shut-in who walked in awe of the world? Where did all the wisdom come from?”
Myron looked at him, puzzled. “I’m a monk.”