Page 62 of A Trial of War
The road narrowed to a winding path along the edge, waves crashing below as we reached the cliffs by midday. Once, Zircon’s banners flew from every watchtower along this coast. Now most were bare, their posts splintered, and thetowers abandoned. The kingdom was pulling its strength inland, preparing for war.
Halfway down the cliff road, Wyndfall halted suddenly, raising a hand. I followed his gaze, and in the distance, we saw three riders cresting a hill, the sun flashing off their helms.
“Scouts,” Wyndfall muttered under his breath. “From the royal guard, by the looks of it.”
My heart lurched behind my ribs. “They’re hunting me?”
“Likely,” he said. “Keep your hood up. If we move quickly, we can reach the lower pass before they see us.”
We spurred our horses into a canter, the hooves striking hard against the stone. The road dipped and twisted as the roar of the sea grew louder, like thunder clashing against the rocks. I glanced back over my shoulder, and one of the riders had lifted a hand to point in our direction.
“Go!” Wyndfall shouted.
We raced down the path, the wind tearing at our cloaks. Fidela, my horse, stumbled once on loose gravel but recovered. My muscles ached in protest as my mount regained its footing. The days of riding along the roads had pushed the limits of my stamina, but I refused to give in. When we burst from the pass into the open valley, a thick mist settled around the foliage, making it difficult to see. The road forked ahead: one trail toward the bay, another deeper into the marshes that followed the river.
Captain Wyndfall veered right, calling out to us, “This way!”
The mist cloaked us well enough that when I finally mustered the courage to look back, the other riders were gone. Thank the gods.
“That was too close,” Isolde said.
Her husband nodded, but his expression was grim. “They’ll assume we took the main road. It’s the safer path. We’ll stay close to the marsh edge until nightfall.”
“Why is it considered the safer route?” I dared to ask.
Wyndfall bit his lip. “Princess, sometimes there are things best left unknown.”
We pressed on through the fog, keeping to the marshes. Reeds whispered around us, and water churned around the horses’ hooves, sucking in their footing. My heart slowly steadied, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching us from the deeper pools. I swallowed, forcing myself to keep my eyes ahead.
As dusk settled, the land sloped upward again, carrying us to higher ground. The scent of salty air grew stronger, and an invigorating sensation settled in my chest. Up ahead, lanterns gleamed through the lifting haze, and my muscles sagged in relief.
“Agate Bay,” I said, half in disbelief. “We made it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Réalta Avermont
Night had fallen by the time we arrived at the docks. With ships gently swaying against the ropes holding them steady, the port was peaceful. The sounds of gulls overhead and far-off tavern laughter caused an ache in my chest as a thread of doubt seeped in.
Am I doing the right thing?I asked myself as the waves splashed against the dock.
We’d stabled the horses in a quiet yard behind the nearby tavern. I ran my hand down my mare’s neck, whispering a heartfelt goodbye. Fidela was a gift from my father on my twenty-first birthday when he announced that I was to be his heir, and as such, I should have a prized mount to match my new title.
The mare had tenderly nuzzled my sleeve as if she understood me. The goodbye was only for now; I would find her again.
As I waited with Isolde on the edge of the pier, my fingers traced the rope tied to a nearby ship. It was stiff and brittle with salt, a quiet reminder of my duty to my people.Whatever storms might come, I had to stay the course and not break, for I was the lifeline that kept them safe in the harbor.
Ahead, Wyndfall spoke quietly to a sailor near the end of the pier, passing him a hearty sack of gold for his silence and support.
“It’s alright to have doubts,” Isolde whispered, patting my shoulder.
I jumped at her touch, lost in my tangled web of fears and doubt. “What do you mean?”
“If you didn’t second-guess this endeavor, I would be more worried.”
I arched my brow. “Really?”
“Doing what’s right isn’t always the easiest path to take.”
