Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass #7) - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,39

body beneath. A letter lay in his hands, which he extended to Aedion as he crossed the tent with graceful ease, then bowed.

Aedion took the letter, his name written on it in Darrow’s handwriting.

“Lord Darrow bids you to join him tomorrow,” the messenger said, jerking his chin toward the sealed letter. “You, and the army.”

“What’s the point of the letter,” Ravi muttered, “if you’re just going to tell him what it says?”

The messenger threw the young lord a bemused glance. “I asked that, too, milord.”

“Then I’m surprised you’re still employed,” Aedion said.

“Not employed,” the messenger said. “Just … collaborating.”

Aedion opened the letter, and it indeed conveyed Darrow’s order. “For you to have gotten here so fast, you’d have needed to fly,” he said to the messenger. “This must have been written before the battle even started this morning.”

The messenger smirked. “I was handed two letters. One was for victory, the other defeat.”

Bold—this messenger was bold, and arrogant, for someone at Darrow’s beck and call. “What’s your name?”

“Nox Owen.” The messenger bowed at the waist. “From Perranth.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Ren said, scanning the man anew. “You’re a thief.”

“Former thief,” Nox amended, winking. “Now rebel, and Lord Darrow’s most trusted messenger.” Indeed, a skilled thief would make for a smart messenger, able to slip in and out of places unseen.

But Aedion didn’t care what the man did or didn’t do. “I assume you’re not riding back tonight.” A shake of the head. Aedion sighed. “Does Darrow realize that these men are exhausted and though we won the field, it was not an easy victory by any means?”

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Nox said, dark brows rising high with that faint amusement.

“Tell Darrow,” Ravi cut in, “that he can come meet us, then. Rather than make us move an entire army just to see him.”

“The meeting is an excuse,” Sol said quietly. Aedion nodded. At Ravi’s narrowed brows, his elder brother clarified, “He wants to make sure that we don’t …” Sol trailed off, aware of the thief who listened to every word. But Nox smiled, as if he grasped the meaning anyway.

Darrow wanted to ensure that they didn’t take the army from here and march southward. Had cut them off before they could do so, with this order to move tomorrow.

Ravi growled, at last getting the gist of his brother’s words.

Aedion and Ren swapped glances. The Lord of Allsbrook frowned, but nodded.

“Rest wherever you can find a fire to welcome you, Nox Owen,” Aedion said to the messenger. “We travel at dawn.”

Aedion set out to find Kyllian to convey the order. The tents were a maze of exhausted soldiers, the injured groaning amongst them.

Aedion stopped long enough to greet those men, to offer a hand on the shoulder or a word of reassurance. Some would last the night. Many wouldn’t.

He halted at other fires as well. To commend the fighting done, whether the soldiers hailed from Terrasen or the Wastes or Wendlyn. At a few of them, he even shared in their ales or meals.

Rhoe had taught him that—the art of making his men want to follow him, die for him. But more than that, seeing them as men, as people with families and friends, who had as much to risk as he did in fighting here. It was no burden, despite the exhaustion creeping over him, to thank them for their courage, their swords.

But it did take time. The sun had fully set, the muddy camp cast in deep shadows amid the fires, by the time he neared Kyllian’s tent.

Elgan, one of the Bane captains, clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, the man’s grizzled face set in a grim smile. “Not a bad first day, whelp,” Elgan grumbled. He’d called Aedion that since those initial days in the Bane’s ranks, had been one of the first men here to treat him not as a prince who had lost his kingdom, but as a warrior fighting to defend it. Much of his battlefield training, he owed to Elgan. Along with his life, considering the countless times the man’s wisdom and quick sword had saved him.

Aedion grinned at the aging captain. “You fought well, for a grandfather.” The man’s daughter had given birth to a son just this past winter.

Elgan growled. “I’d like to see you wield a sword so well when you’re my age, boy.”

Then he was gone, aiming for a campfire that held several other older commanders and captains. They noticed Aedion’s attention and lifted their mugs in