Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,55

jails he’d stayed in. It was the look of someone who had absolutely nothing left to lose.

“Yes,” Loth said. “I believe he is.”

Ada narrowed her eyes and squinted suspiciously. “He’s in crown livery. How come he’s alone?”

“I left the rest of my men searching a town five miles up the road. I actually had to go backwards to catch you,” he said, and tipped his hat to Ada. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Loth wondered how he knew, or if it was a lucky guess, but either way, Ada’s expression softened slightly, and she gave him a nod in return.

“This bandit gentleman was just telling us how he was paid to assassinate a redheaded prince travelling to Callier,” Loth said.

Pie was buzzing excitedly around the bandit leader’s head, chirping happily when the man swore at him and tried to shake him off every time he landed in his beard. “Get it away from me, it’s probably poisonous!”

“Pie’s not poisonous,” Dave insisted with a frown and knocked the man out—perhaps for calling Pie an it, but possibly because he just liked hitting people.

Ser Greylord stared down at the unconscious bandit leader and then moved away from the tree. He beckoned Loth and Quinn to follow him.

“So, it’s the truth then,” Ser Greylord said with a sigh. “It wasn’t men loyal to the previous king who paid for the escape. Not if the bandits were paid too.”

“It seems that way,” Quinn said, and lifted his chin.

“Hmm.” Ser Greylord squinted in the fading light. He stepped closer to Loth and Quinn and lowered his voice, checking that the bandit leader was still unconscious before he spoke. “Do you remember how we’d play chess together, Your Grace?”

Quinn nodded.

“Terrible players, both of us,” Ser Greylord said. “Which is a shame, really, because a little bit of strategic thinking would be useful right now. I think you should come back to Delacourt with me. If you go to Callier, you’re clearly walking into a trap. As for me, it’s only a matter of time until Doom deals with my treachery, even if he set it up to begin with. But we could buy you passage on a ship, and you could travel to another kingdom. There’s no need to meet your death in Callier.”

Quinn stared past him, nodding slightly to himself.

Ada marched up to them.

“Excuse you, but we’re taking the prince to Callier,” she said firmly.

“Ah, dwarves don’t renege on contracts, of course,” Ser Greylord said. “An admirable trait. Admirable. Unfortunately, I may have to kill you for it.”

Quinn held up his hand. “There will be no killing,” he said, and then looked around at the dead bandits lying on the bloody field. “Well, no more killing. Well, no more killing yet.” He sighed. “There will be no killing of anyone I like, clear?”

Ser Greylord nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

“I’m going to Callier,” Quinn said, and stared at them all in turn. His gaze fell on Loth last, and it was steely. “I’m going to Callier, and I’m going to take my throne back, or at least end it one way or another.”

The road at night was pleasant, Loth decided, if one ignored the dark trees swaying in the breeze and the ominous hooting of owls from somewhere in the distance. Also, foxes screamed. That was a thing. A very inconsiderate thing in Loth’s opinion, that really added to the atmosphere of this entire venture.

Loth turned his thoughts inward to avoid thinking about every ghost story he had ever heard as a child. He found himself thinking about riding to his inevitable death instead, which wasn’t really any more comforting, but Quinn was a warm weight at his back, and that seemed to help.

Somewhere, a few horses away, Scott groaned as he slowly regained consciousness.

“So, this whole revenge and birthright thing,” Loth said as they rode at a leisurely pace down the road, Quinn’s arms firmly around him from behind. “It’s hot, don’t get me wrong, but have you considered that it’s also stupid?”

Quinn hummed in his ear.

“I don’t trust Ser Greylord,” Loth murmured. “He turned coat too quickly.”

He felt Quinn’s breath on his next. “He was constrained because his son is being held hostage. Which means he is being held hostage too, in a way.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Loth said. “It saves being caught by surprise at their moment of inevitable betrayal. Fine, I trust that he has a son. I trust that his hopelessness about his son’s fate is what finally moved him to