Page 203 of Shadow Queen
She looked down at Caspian in horror. “You’re not coming too?”
He shook his head. “You have a better chance of making it out alone.”
“You can’t stay here!”
“Don’t you worry about me. Keep yourself safe.” He looked up at her, his eyes full of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Norah.”
But she didn’t have time to respond before Soren urged the horse forward and into the night.
Chapter fifty-nine
ThejourneybacktoKharav was the longest Norah had ever known. She rode in the silence of defeat. She didn’t sleep when they stopped to rest. Soren didn’t either.
Their mount wasn’t a destrier, and when they reached the Horsemen tribes, Soren traded it for a larger beast that could better carry them both.
He caught rabbits and a few birds as they went. Despite their fleeing and his aversion to fires while traveling, he built a small campfire for her each time they stopped.
Her cheeks were constantly wet with tears, her stomach sick.
“Why didn’t Alexander come?” she whispered on the fifth night. It was the first she’d spoken since they left Mercia. “What if they killed him too?”
“That’s not possible.”
Her lip trembled. “But he would have come. He would have come for me.”
Soren clasped her by the arm. “Look at me.”
She couldn’t.
He near shook her. “Look at me!”
She lifted her tear-filled eyes to his.
“That bastard won’t die. I know. I’ve tried. He’ll be all right.”
But she couldn’t stop the tears.
“Come here,” he said, and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.
Days passed in a blur. Even visiting the Uru, Norah didn’t remember much, only a little of Tahla taking care of her—helping her clean up, braiding her hair, giving her another knife. She had left Alexander’s dagger back in her chamber in Mercia.
Once they cleared the Canyonlands, the Kharavian border patrol joined them. Soren spoke to them in Kharavian tongue, and two soldiers split off and away to the capital, to Mikael. She still couldn’t speak the Kharavian language well, but she understood a large amount now. They rode to tell Mikael of the Mercian council’s takeover, of the attempt against her life, and that Soren was bringing her home.
Mikael stood outside in the courtyard as they rode in, waiting. Soren slipped her down off the horse. The tears came again, and she let out a sob as Mikael swept her into his arms. She clung to him as she cried.
He held her tight. Then he picked her up and carried her into the safety of the Shadows.
Norah sat on her throne in stoic silence, with Mikael beside her on his own throne, as the nobles entered. They didn’t sit close enough to touch, their chairs too far apart for her to do what she needed most—to simply hold his hand. But she could feel his rage. He hadn’t even given her arrival a full day before he urgently summoned all his nobles. At least she’d had time to wash and look put together, even if just for appearances.
Soren stood to Mikael’s right, and Salara-Mae stood to Norah’s left, back just into the shadows. As the nobles took their places, Mikael rose.
“I’ve called you here to discuss an urgent matter,” he said. “A march against the North.”
Norah’s head snapped up, and she gaped at him. That wasn’t what she’d expected. She thought he’d only inform them of the circumstance. They hadn’t discussed going to war against her council. Murmurs rippled through the nobles, and even Soren shifted in surprise.
“We can’t march against the North,” Lord Narsing said. “We have no allies and are on the brink of war ourselves.”
“I’ll remove the North’s council.” Mikael’s words came with venom.Punish them, he had meant. He glanced at Norah and then back out to his nobles. “And I’ll reestablish the alliance.”
