Merit walked to the edge of the courtyard and gazed through Harwen’s arch, the gate leading to the Plague Road. The last imperial soldiers were only now disappearing over the hills outside Harwen, the same hills that housed Dagrun’s encampment. The Feren contingent remained close by at her request.
She shivered, but not from the cold. She was Queen Regent now and she did not intend to lose her post. “My brother has suffered enough,” she said, drawing Shenn close to her. “I won’t allow the boy to make a fool of himself when he returns. And I won’t allow my sister to put off her duty to the empire. We must move quickly. I’ll retrieve my father’s seal, and you must leave the Hornring.”
Shenn did not argue and he did not ask questions. After so many years together, he knew what she wanted him to do.
18
“The king was met by soldiers in bronze armor at the city gate,” her waiting woman said. Kepi had only just arrived at her chamber in the Hornring when the woman came knocking at her door, pounding until Kepi had come to answer.
“The Protector’s men took my father?” Kepi asked.
“Yes. While you were away, they took the king to Solus.”
“Solus?” Kepi spoke before she could fully grasp her servant’s words. Solus. My father has gone to Solus. “Why?”
“To meet our lord and emperor.” The girl told her what had happened.
“Merit is Queen. My brother is free…” Kepi shook her head. “And my father is to meet Tolemy himself?”
The girl nodded, her eyes downcast. Everyone in the empire knew what Arko’s visit meant.
“Dammit. When did the king depart?” Kepi asked.
“He left just after midday.” It was now late in the afternoon.
“They took the Plague Road?”
“Yes—but mistress, your sister seeks your presence—”
Kepi pushed past the girl and her protests. My father is headed for his death and I was not here to say goodbye. I’ll be damned if I’m going to wait around for Merit. She hurried toward the Hornring’s stables. She had become exceptionally good at slipping unseen from the Hornring. This time, however, her secrecy had worked against her. She had spent two days and two nights in Blackrock and no one had known how to find her. Mithra’s ass, she thought. My brother is free, but I was not here to greet him. Now she must wait until he completed the dangerous hunt before she could embrace him. At least I’ll get to meet Ren.
Her father was another matter. The emperor had summoned the king. To gaze upon the Soleri was to gaze upon the sun itself, and no man could survive that light.
Her heart pounding, Kepi strode through the stable’s wooden doors, hastening past soldiers and messengers alike. Ash stood near the stable’s entry, her saddle still strapped to the horse’s midsection. The horse was not yet fed or fully watered, but perhaps her father was still close to Harwen, and the ride would be short. Ash was not the stable master’s fastest mount, but she was nimble and reliable and would not balk at a second ride that day.
Kepi tugged the reins and bolted through the open doors, retracing the path she had taken earlier that day. Outside, the streets were empty, the Hornring silent. The city was locked down, doors shut, gates barred. Why? Her father was gone, but why lock down the city?
A spear answered her silent question, an obsidian point blocking her path. “The queen regent commands you to remain in Harwen.”
“As far as I can tell my father is still alive, and hence still king of Harkana, and as his daughter I answer to him alone,” she said. “Until my brother sits on the throne, my sister holds no more power than I—now, let me pass.”
The man hesitated. He looked to his fellow guardsmen. While the men exchanged hushed words, Kepi broke past the gate, brushing aside their spears with an outstretched arm. I must find my father.
She rode past another company of city guardsmen who called to her, but she refused to slow her horse. Even if her sister was regent and she had given orders for Kepi to stay within the city walls, the guards would not dare harm the king’s daughter.
Ash pounded the sandy earth, bolting through the outer fortifications, past the Ruined Wall, over the Blackwood Bridge and out of Harwen. She rode over the low plains, her eyes bent on the horizon, searching for the Plague Road’s first marker. White plaster glinted in the distance. The road was not far. The Protector’s retinue was no doubt large and well armed; such a force could not move as hastily as a single rider. She had heard imperial soldiers rested often and seldom rode swiftly. The men conserved their strength for conflict. She hoped the soldiers would take their time. If she rode quickly, if she drove her mount to exhaustion, perhaps she could catch her father before he reached the Dromus. She wanted to see him before he disappeared behind the walls of Sola. She could not even recall the last words they spoke to each other. Let me look at him one last time, Kepi begged. But there was more than simple sentiment in her prayer. She was riding to win a promise from the king, an order that would release Kepi from her vow.
Merit would not dare work against a king’s decree.
She passed the first marker, crested a low hill, but saw only stray carts and goat herders. She cursed. In the distance, light shimmered on the second marker. She had hoped to sight imperial soldiers when she arrived at the top of the hill, but she saw only sandy knolls, broken trees, and distant travelers. I should have taken a fresh mount. If her ride continued past the low hills and into the desert, she would need to water Ash, and she would lose precious time and might not catch the soldiers before they reached Sola.
I can’t lose him. I won’t let him disappear—not like mother.
Ten years ago, Sarra had slipped out in the night, leaving Harwen and fleeing to Desouk. Sarra Hark-Wadi, the woman who would become Sarra Amunet, the Mother Priestess, had never even bothered to say goodbye to her children. She had simply disappeared. Now Arko had disappeared too—the Protector’s men had stolen him while Kepi was away. I cannot allow both of my parents to leave without bidding me farewell. She’d been cheated once, but she would not allow it to happen a second time. More than anything, she wanted to see his face one last time.
The clop of iron shoes thundered in the distance. Horses approached from behind, from the direction of Harwen. Kepi hit her steed with a hard but steady kick. Ash responded, beating out ever-quicker paces, her strides lengthening with each gallop. Kepi pressed her feet into the stirrups and lifted her torso to avoid the pounding of the saddle. She flew, her horse’s hooves stirring dust and sand, wind at her face, hair whipping at her brow. Her bruises ached, but she ignored the pain. She kept her eyes on the trail, leaping over rocks, dodging ruts in the road as the clop of the approaching soldiers reached a crescendo.
Ash was at her limit and the riders were nearly upon her.