“Shalia!” I heard someone yelling. The clanging noises of steel were becoming quieter, and I saw shapes moving in the clearing dust. Kairos moved away from me as Galen charged through the dust. “You’re all right?” Galen asked, touching my chin and turning my head this way and that.
“I’m unharmed,” I said. It certainly wasn’t the same thing, but it was the only answer I could give.
“Come with me,” he said. “The column is broken. I need to get you to safety.”
“Where is Calix?” I asked.
“He’s coming behind us,” he said. “We need to secure you both as quickly as possible.”
Kairos let out a low, sharp whistle, and his dark brown horse came trotting back to us, with no sign of mine.
“Take my horse,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded, swinging onto it. Galen put his foot in the stirrup, and I pulled at the reins. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Escorting you.”
“We’ll be faster on two horses,” I insisted.
“You’re all right to ride on your own?” he asked, surprised. “It’s a difficult ride.”
I nodded sharply. “I told you, I am unharmed. If the horse can do it, I can.”
He found his own horse, turning back to look at me. “Follow me closely. Shout if we are separated by more than the length of a horse,” he said.
“I will,” I promised.
He led the horses off the road, down the steep, sloping terrain littered with rocks and trees. I held my breath at the sharp pitch, but the horse knew what to do, following behind Galen’s until we hit open fields, and the horses ran, not at a full gallop, but a quick canter.
We crossed through fields, and passed small farmhouses, and I wondered why we couldn’t stop there. Was there not enough room, or did Galen not trust their loyalty to the king?
“Here,” he called, leading me down a path around a field of some sort of tall grain. I saw a large gate guarding a road and, farther in, a sprawling home.
Two guards appeared as we approached, and Galen shouted, “In the name of the king, open the gates!”
The guards didn’t hesitate, opening the gates and letting us ride in.
By the time we reached a pretty fountain, a woman was coming out of the house to stand on the steps. She was older, her hair white and still well kept. “Commander,” she said, dropping her head to him. “How can I be of service?”
“Forgive the imposition, Domina Naxos,” he said, inclining his head to her before he jumped from his horse and came to attend to me. “The king and queen have been attacked. This was the closest place we could come for shelter.”
“You are welcome to it, dear boy,” she said, turning to a servant and ordering rooms opened, fires lit, food made, and everyone who could tend to an injury made ready. Galen helped me down, letting out a breath when I was on the ground, as if he could relax now that I was secured.
He brought me to the woman. “This is your new queen,” he told her. “My queen, this is Domina Naxos. The domina and her late husband were good friends to my grandfather.”
“And always to you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He warmed to this, and it was the closest to a smile I’d ever seen on his face. She turned to me, bowing and taking my hands to kiss each in turn. “Welcome, my queen. I am sorry for your hardship.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” I told her. “Has anyone else arrived?” Anxiously, I looked around, but we were the only ones.
“No,” she said. “But come. We will see you clean and fed.”
Galen nodded me inside, and I followed where she led. She gave us water to wash, and I splashed my face and my hands to clear them of dust. When I was done, Galen took off his black jacket with a grunt, and I saw why. There was a cut on his arm, not deep but still bleeding.
It looked like the work of a sword, not a rock, but it suddenly made me wonder if I had protected my brother to harm someone else’s.
But no—the farther I got from that moment, the more I doubted that I had been the one to pull a boulder from the mountain.
Drawing breath, I asked one of the servants for a few bandages. “Sit,” I told Galen, gesturing to a stool. “You’re hurt.”
“And?” he asked, arching one of his sharp eyebrows, but sitting on the stool I directed him to. “Is there something you intend to do about it?”
“Yes,” I told him. “You do know I have five brothers quite prone to fighting, don’t you?”
He grunted, which I took as a yes.
“They get into many scrapes, which girls are usually required to fix.”
“I don’t need a woman to tend to my wounds,” he said. “I can do it myself.”
“Oh, for the Skies,” I told him with a sigh. The servant reappeared with the bandages, and I took them from her, dipping a fresh cloth in the water. I reached for his cuff, and he pulled away. “Galen, really,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“My sleeve won’t go up that far,” he said simply. He tugged his shirt off over his head, and I felt heat flush my face as I focused on his wound.
I took the clean, wet cloth and brushed the debris out of the wound. His jaw went tight, but he didn’t flinch, looking ahead as I did it. I snuck glances at his chest. It was similar in size, but so very different from his brother’s—full of scars and honed muscles, equally as solid and carved as his face.
“It’s not deep,” I told him, pressing to stem the blood. “You won’t even need stitching.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I smiled at his continued stoniness. “I planned this whole thing,” I told him, and his eyes cut to me. “So I could tend to your wound and you’d finally be forced to like me.”
I wrapped a length of bandage around his arm as tightly as I could. A muscle in his jaw flared as I tied it. “It needs to be tight,” I told him.
“I didn’t complain,” he answered. “And I don’t dislike you.”
“Will you answer some questions if I ask you, then?” I sat back, rinsing my hands as he put on his shirt, then washed his face and put on his jacket, all buttoned up again.
“That usually depends on the question,” he said.
“What happened today?”
He looked out the window. “I believe the Resistance was after the tax money that Atalo paid us. It was a fortune in gold tri-kings.”
The Resistance. Hadn’t Kata said that was the name of Rian’s cause? He could have been following us since the desert. “Did they take it?”
He nodded. “Yes. Calix will be in a foul mood tonight,” he said, his eyes flicking to me like a warning.
“I saw Danae cut a man’s throat,” I said. “She didn’t look afraid. She looked like she knew what she was doing. I’ve never seen a woman commit violence like that with such ease or ability.”
There was a grave expression on his face, and he crossed his arms. “I would ask you to speak to her about that. It’s not my information to share.”
I nodded, swallowing. What kind of secret did she harbor? “Very well.”
“Kairos is here,” he said, his watchful eyes on the window. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“No.”
He started toward the door and then halted. “You should tell Calix you were hurt,” he said, his eyes on the door and not on me. “I don’t know who he’ll vent his rage on, but it will be someone, and if he thinks you’re injured, it won’t be you.”