The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,182

here?”

“Easy enough to see what you’re good for. And you promised that when we met again that we’d settle things between us once and for all.”

I smiled. “Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? And I must admit, you did take me by surprise. Good for you, soldier. But I might have a surprise for you.”

He reached out and grabbed my wrist. “You’re not pulling any knives on me this time.”

I looked at his fingers gripping my wrist and then back at his leering face. “Oh, I would never do that,” I said sweetly. “Why pull a knife when I have a whole army at my disposal?”

And before he could blink, Natiya, Pauline, Gwyneth, and Berdi were pressing swords to his back.

Kaden and Rafe stood a few feet away, taking note of the sudden activity. Their arms folded across their chests.

“Think we should help them?” Kaden asked.

Rafe shook his head. “Nah. I think they have it covered.”

The soldier froze, knowing the feel of steel on his spine.

I smiled at him again. “Well, look at that. I guess I managed to surprise you after all.”

He released my wrist, not sure what had just happened.

My smile vanished. “Now, go join your ranks, soldier, and wait for me to address your company. This will be my very last warning for you to behave as an honorable member of the king’s army. The next time I will be cutting you from your position like a rotten dimple on an apple.”

“You’re the one who’s addressing the—”

“Yes.”

He seemed to notice Walther’s baldrick across my chest for the first time—along with its royal crest.

“You’re the—”

“Yes.”

He paled, blustering with apologies and began to drop to one knee, “Your Highness—”

I stopped him, pushing him to his feet again by the tip of my sword. “It shouldn’t matter if I am a tavern maid or a princess. When I see you treating others with respect without regard to their station—or anatomy—then your apology will mean something.”

I turned and walked away as he still blustered, weary that this was a battle I had to fight over and over again.

* * *

The trek to Sentinel Valley took two weeks. Two very long weeks with rain, hail, and wind dampening spirits and hampering every mile. We began with fifteen thousand soldiers and picked up additional troops along the way. By the time we camped just outside of the mouth of the valley, we numbered twenty-eight thousand. It was nearly every soldier we had in Morrighan. I’d never seen so many in one place. I couldn’t see the end of our encampment. Our supplies were abundant. Food. Weapons. Raw supplies of lumber to build barricades and defenses. Tents to protect against the weather as our final plans were laid in place. A vast impressive city. But it was still dwarfed by what the Komizar had rolling our way.

All of these troops were here on my orders, based on something I felt in my gut. The generals had grumbled the entire way.

Rafe had sent Jeb and Orrin with a contingent of soldiers to intercept Dalbretch troops who might be coming and direct them to Sentinel Valley. Might be coming. The words weighed heavily on me. With Draeger recalling thousands of soldiers to Dalbreck, it seemed unlikely that we would get any assistance at all.

Tavish explained that the general had recalled the troops long before he got Rafe’s message. “They may still come.”

May. Might. My anxiety grew. Each day passed like a low beating drum vibrating through me, marking time. Rafe promised that the Marabella forces would show, but we’d had no sign of them either. It could be that Rafe had already lost his grip on his realm.

The weather at least had finally become agreeable. Rafe, Kaden, and I left alone to scout the valley. I didn’t want to hear the grumbles of generals, the pounding of tent stakes, or the calls of soldiers. A quiet voice had drawn me here. I needed quiet as I explored it and listened for any more secrets it might hold for me.

The opening into the valley was narrow, just as Reunaud had described it.

We rode in and dismounted. I sensed it immediately. Even Rafe and Kaden felt it. I saw it in their faces, and in the reverence of their steps. The air held the presence of something timeless, something that could be either crushing or liberating. Something that didn’t care about us, only what was coming. It knew. We looked at the tall green cliffs and the