Page 127 of War Queen
Norah stared at her.
“Plus, being outside is overrated. I hate the cold.” Catherine shifted back. “Just help me get situated back in bed, and I’d like that book over there on the cabinet.”
Norah looked over and stared at the book. Not go out again? How could she say it so casually? She got the book and slowly handed it to her grandmother.
Settled back in her bed with her book, Catherine asked, “Did you want to stay for a while, my dear?”
Norah only stared at her. Catherine talked like everything was so normal… so… fine. But it wasn’t fine. She was dying. And she was perfectly accepting of it—planning a new regent, reading her book, deciding she just wouldn’t go outside anymore.
Just like Mikael was so accepting of his fate.
Why were they so accepting?
She couldn’t breathe.
“Norah? Are you going to stay?”
“Um…” She couldn’t. She needed to breathe, to think, just for a moment. “Maybe I’ll come back in a little bit? I was just going to tend to some things.”
“Very well.” Catherine opened her book. To read. Dying.
Norah walked numbly down the hall. It wouldn’t be long now. Catherine had been right—she didn’t have as much time as Norah had thought. Her world was caving in around her, and what could she do? She stepped outside but didn’t feel the cold.
She did need to see to one thing, though. She found Soren with Caspian on the bridge, discussing more fortifications and defensive efforts.
“We’ll keep the ships moving through the channel,” Caspian was saying. “It’s cold enough for ice to form, and we’ll keep it clear.”
“Let it form in the areas where it won’t support weight. If someone is stupid enough to attack the North, let them venture out onto it. We’ll let winter help us.”
Not a pleasant thought—men being swallowed by the icy waters—but effective, she supposed. The benefits of having a man of war plan war strategies.
Soren stopped when he saw her. “What do you want?” he asked in his normal gruff voice, but she knew it wasn’t a gruff question. He genuinely wanted to know what she wanted, and he’d make sure she got it. He wouldn’t like this request, though…
“I need Adrian to come home.”
He shifted his weight back. He definitely didn’t like the request.
“There’s not much time now, and…” She closed her eyes and shook her head as she gathered herself again. “And he needs to be able to say goodbye. If even for a short time.”
Catherine had raised Adrian, loved him, and he loved her. He hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye to Alexander, but she could bring him home for Catherine. Of course, Soren would be against the idea. Adrian was in service to Phillip in Aleon, where he was helping prepare for war—an important task. But this was important too.
“All right,” he said.
She snapped her gaze up in surprise. Not even an argument?
“I’ll send a message and tell him to come with urgency,” he added.
She stood, still frozen in her surprise. “O-Okay, thank you.” The thought of Adrian coming home made her heart suddenly feel not quite so heavy.
Chapter thirty-three
Sorenhammeredthelastnail into the iron shoe around his destrier’s hoof before clipping and smoothing the outer edges. When it came to the care of the animal he depended so much on, he trusted only himself, as with Salar’s destrier as well. Salara’s mare, the horse of the Wild, didn’t need shoes or maintaining, but he checked on her regularly regardless.
He released the animal’s leg and patted the stallion on the shoulder—a horse he’d trained himself, the best he’d had yet. It was a strong beast, black as night, smart and fearless; he earned every bit of his noble name, Khalel al’Dakar V. Of course, he followed Khalel IV—the horse Soren had been forced to fell at the base of Bahoul to prevent Salara from escaping those years ago. It had been a great loss.
The original Khalel had been the famed destrier of his father—well, the father that had raised Soren—captain of the Crest, Tyrhar Nazim. And Khalel al’Dakar became the name of every destrier Soren trusted to carry him into battle.
When he’d fled with Salara back to Kharav after the council had tried to kill her, he’d left the animal behind. He didn’t think he’d find him again in returning to the North, but when he did, he nearly wept. Soren didn’t have many things. Besides his father’s sword, this horse was the most important thing to him.
