Page 38 of The Prince's Sacrifice

It took him too long to fall asleep, and it didn’t seem to do much good because he woke frequently throughout the night. By the time morning dawned, he felt like he might as well have stayed awake the whole time and read a book or something.

Tor could have given him a crystal light, couldn’t he?

Tor looked as rough as Pel felt. Tor squinted at him, and then his lips tipped up into a wry smirk.

“That bad for you, too, huh?”

Pel could only smile helplessly back. “That bad.”

That was about all the time they had for pleasantries. The guards pressed on quickly, riding long hours because the days were at their longest. No one wanted to dally and risk the situation getting worse. Bavil had left the patrol with strict instructions to protect the citizens and not pursue, but if there was another attack, or if they were overrun…

It made anxiety churn in Pel’s stomach, and Tor’s expression was grim. They didn’t know what they were going to face, and that was never comfortable, especially when many lives could hang in the balance.

Tor and Pel had privately agreed that their best hope was encountering no exiles. If they ran into none in Tond, the two of them had a much better chance of convincing the guards not to go over the mountain. But Sir Cloril, the captain of Tond’s guard, was King Forex’s captain for a reason. As far as Pel could tell, he followed the King’s orders assiduously. He’d fought in the war, though he must have still been a young man when it ended. Pel thought he was nearing fifty now, tall, fit, and attractive, if you liked stern and a bit haughty. Pel was afraid he’d bought into all of Forex’s rhetoric, so he wasn’t sure it was a good sign that he was here.

On the other hand, from everything Pel had seen, he was highly competent and dedicated to the safety of Tond. Those should be good traits.

Pel wished his father’s actions were at least about protecting Tondians, even if he deplored the idea of wiping out a whole group to achieve this. But Pel feared very much that at its base, Forex just wanted his land back. Simply taking it back would be a sign of aggression that the High King and the rest of the United Realms would be unlikely to tolerate. But if Forex could blame the exiles for everything?

Pel hated everything about this. Well, except for having Tor at his side. Not that he wanted Tor to go through anything traumatic, but Pel was certain he’d be ignored if he were alone. The High Prince might stand a chance.

They reached the base of the mountain in two and a half days, and they found that the patrol was still there. They’d taken over a farm that had apparently been abandoned because the people had fled after the attack.

To Pel’s and Tor’s satisfaction, there was no sign of any exiles, and there’d been no further incursions while they’d traveled. Thus far, it seemed as though their prayers had been answered.

Sir Cloril was in charge, but he’d been checking in with both Tor and Pel, which was a positive sign. The head of the patrol didn’t seem to know whether she should be talking to Sir Cloril, Tor, or Pel. She bowed to all of them.

“Your Highnesses. Captain. There’s been occasional glimpses of movement in the mountains, but it’s been raining, and it could have been animals. There’s been no incursions into Tond, and we doubled up on watches, as Prince Bavil requested, day and night.”

“Well done,” Sir Cloril said with a brisk nod and something that was almost a faint smile. “We’ll take over from here, and you and your patrol can rest.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Pel was glad to hear they’d obeyed his brother and not tried to go after possible exiles in the mountains.

She cleared her throat. “May I ask after Prince Bavil?”

Pel smiled at her. “My brother’s fine. The healer saw to him right away, and he’ll be back on his feet by the time we’re back at the castle.”

She looked very relieved. “I’m glad. We were trying to get civilians to safety, and Prince Bavil pushed several guards and a father and his child out of the way of a collapsing building. He was caught in the collapse, and everyone will be relieved to hear that he’s recovering. Thank you for relieving our minds. I’ll pass on the update.”

Pel stared after her, wondering if Tor had been right all along. People were complicated, of course, and they could do good things as well as terrible. But did Bavil’s day-to-day actions actually reflect the uncaring lout he periodically enacted in front of their father and Princess Marwila?

Had Pel been so certain that was what he’d see that he’d not looked for anything else?

It wasn’t an altogether comfortable thought, but Pel felt justified in pushing it away for the moment. First, they’d resolve the crisis with the exiles, andthenhe’d reassess his feelings towards his family.

The clouds hung low over the mountains, the streaky sky indicating it was raining. For the sake of everyone sleeping outside, Pel hoped it wasn’t going to come any further east.

Pel resigned himself to another night of poor sleep, but Sir Coril surprised him by insisting after dinner that Tor and Pel sleep in the small farmhouse.

“You’ll need your wits about you,” he pointed out. “Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll keep watch.”

It looked like the small structure had been raided at some point, so there were only blankets on the floor instead of an actual bed, but Pel and Tor were definitely not going to complain. They gave it about half an hour to make sure that no one came after them, and then they curled up together in the nest of blankets.

“What are the chances that everyone knows this is what we’re doing?” Pel wanted to know.

“Fair to middling?” Tor suggested.