When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (books under 200 pages txt) 📗

he'd proven himself a true and loyal adviser in the time after, Ishla suspected their children's disappearance wore thin her husband's patience for the master swordsman. Each instance of his anger showing made the queen wonder if he might have guessed the truth. If he did, his tenuous patience and any forgiveness his friend's sacrifice may have earned him would disappear like a layer of dust blown by a strong breath.

A few tense moments passed, everyone in the room silent. Ishla watched her husband but sensed the gazes of the other men shift from her to the king, to each other. Being a seasoned soldier, Osis would be assessing the situation and preparing for the king's orders, ready to do whatever his ruler asked of him. She couldn't guess the other man's mind or intent. Did it matter?

Erral rubbed his hands on the front of his breeches, removing the sweat from his palms. He cleared his throat and raised his arm, pointed a finger at the older warrior.

"You. Gather a squad—ten men at least. I shouldn't have allowed Trenan to go with such a small deployment. Take them to where you last saw the princess, track her and Trenan and return them to Draekfarren."

Osis bowed at the waist but missed his chance to respond as Strylor jumped on the opportunity to insert himself.

"You can count on us, your kingliness. We'll have your daughter and the incompetent swordsman back in no time."

Ishla opened her mouth, a reprimand for the way the man spoke and how he referred to Trenan teetering on the tip of her tongue, but she caught herself. It wasn't her place, not in the king's presence.

Erral turned his gaze on the excited soldier, raised an eyebrow. "You'll be going nowhere. With Den... Dan..." He glanced toward the queen, set a questioning mask atop the ire that pinched his features.

"Dansil," she finished for him.

"Dansil. With the queen's guard traipsing around the kingdom with Trenan, my wife's complement is one short. Since her safety is the kingdom's safety, you will protect her in his stead until his return, however long it might be."

Concern flickered to life in Ishla's gut. The soldier's eyes widened and his lips quivered to disguise the thrill handed to him by the king's proclamation. The queen looked from him to her husband, her stomach tightening. Erral's gaze slid to her, and for an instant, she thought she saw the corner of his mouth tilt up in a tiny grin, as if assigning this unqualified man to her detail amused him. He returned his attention to the soldiers before she determined the smile real or merely fancy.

"Why are you still here?" the king snapped, startling Ishla though he didn't direct his words at her.

Osis reacted at once, bowing lower this time and spinning on his heel, heading out of the chamber to gather his squad. The other man—Strylor, she reminded herself—slid his feet along the floor, shuffling closer to the queen.

"What are you doing?" she asked, incredulous.

He appeared surprised by her question, though the ghost of a small remained. "The king assigned me to look after you. It's what I'm doing."

Erral cleared his throat but Ishla raised her hand, stopping him before he spoke. Because the man was now her personal guard, she knew her husband would allow her this leeway. She took two steps toward the soldier, moving close enough to reach out and touch him if she wanted to; she did not.

"Do you think I am not safe alone in the king's company? Do you not consider my husband able to protect me?"

Strylor's eyes widened, his cheeks blushed red, and the hidden smile disappeared abruptly. He shook his head with such haste, Ishla took a step away for fear saliva might fly from his lips.

"N... no, my queen. I—"

"Then get out."

He bowed too deeply, bending far enough forward he appeared in danger of tipping. The queen crossed her arms, glared at him. When he straightened, he wore a sheepish smile as though he considered the entire thing an amusing little game, then spun and exited the chamber, closing the door behind him. Ishla faced her husband.

"Why—?"

"Hush yourself, woman. With the other one gone, you need another Queen's Guard. What matters now is having Trenan return to answer for his incompetence."

"No, what matters is getting our son and daughter back safe."

Erral waved his hand. "Of course. But the master swordsman will face consequences for his failure."

Ishla's cheeks grew warm as anger filled her. Was it possible he placed more importance on punishing a man who'd served him so well for so long than on finding their children? Whatever might have happened, the queen knew Trenan enough to realize he'd done everything in his power to protect the prince and princess.

"You make it seem as though rescuing our children is not of the highest priority."

He glared at her, the knuckles of his hand turning white around the handle of his flagon of ale. "Of course it's important," he said through clenched teeth. "But I have a kingdom to run and defend. Things happen you do not understand because I protect you from them. I see no need for the weight of the kingdom's affairs to squash you."

"But our children—"

"Will be found." He emphasized the last word by slamming his mug on the tabletop, but it did not fare so well this time; the clay shattered, spilling ale everywhere. He continued as though he didn't notice, the flagon's handle still held in his hand. "I understand the importance of finding them; one of them is the heir to the throne. And if Trenan had accomplished what I meant him to rather than being distracted by his own affairs and feelings for the children..."

One of them...?

Ishla took a step toward the table. "Do not blame Trenan for this.