Ronan stole horses for their journey. No, Ashyn corrected. They stole horses. Ronan only found the steeds and facilitated the theft. They needed mounts as much as they’d needed food.
Tyrus made a note of the homesteads they’d taken them from and vowed that he’d pay the owners back tenfold. But they were still on Jorojumo’s land, so the chance that Tyrus could pay them back was slight, though it made them feel better. Or it made Ashyn and Tyrus feel better. Ronan and Guin seemed to consider the entire discussion a waste of time.
Having come from homesteads, the horses were not accustomed to galloping long distances. Neither, Ashyn would admit, was she. Not that she mentioned it, even when she could barely walk upon dismounting. To her surprise, Guin didn’t complain either, though she seemed to be in as much discomfort as Ashyn.
The horses did their best, but by the time they were two days’ hard ride from the imperial city, it became clear they could go no farther without resting. The group stopped at an inn to water and feed their mounts and themselves.
Tova and Daigo stayed in a patch of forest near the stables. Tyrus hid his tattoos and blades under a light cloak. In his present state, it was unlikely his face would be recognized even in the city. It was still wan from the poison and filthy from the road, with a yellowing bruise on one cheek and a healing cut on his chin.
“I’ll be going home when we reach the city,” Ronan said as they sat in the inn’s dining room, pulling apart pork buns. “I’ve been away longer from my family than I expected, so I’d rather not linger.”
“Go on ahead as soon as you’re rested,” Tyrus said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, and your recompense will reflect that.”
“Recompense?” Guin said. “You mean money?”
“It was a polite way of saying that,” Tyrus said. “I hired Ronan to aid us, and he’s gone well beyond what was expected of him.”
“So I’ll be paid, too, then. For helping out.”
“Absolutely,” Ronan said. “Just tell us what you actually did to help, and we’ll pay you accordingly, once we’ve deducted your expenses. Which by my rough calculations, means you owe us about ten silver.”
Guin glowered at him.
“You will receive a stipend from my father,” Tyrus said. “After you’ve spoken to his advisors, and they’ve learned whatever else you might know that can help us.”
Tyrus said more, but Ashyn didn’t catch it. She was exhausted, and her mind retreated into simple quiet. The voices faded, as did the smells of the pork buns and the tea, and she drifted between the worlds, only faintly aware of the others.
Come, child.
The spirit’s voice startled her out of her reverie. She looked around, blinking, as if it had come from a real person.
“Ash?” Ronan said.
Come now.
“Sorry. I’m drifting off. I’ll go out and get some air, see to Tova and Daigo.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ronan said, rising as she did.
She waved him down. “Rest. I’m only stepping outside.”
This way.
Ashyn followed the spirit’s voice. She checked outside the inn before stepping into the midday sun. A moon ago, she would have hurried after the spirit without hesitation, never needing to worry that it might be summoning her for anything but good.
The spirit continued whispering, just a word or two, drawing her along. She was rounding the stables when she heard a soft footfall behind her.
“Ronan?” she said. “I know you’re there.”
He stepped from beside the stable wall. “I didn’t wish to startle you.”
“And sneaking behind me is less likely to do so than simply walking up and saying hello?”
He walked toward her. “I was hoping to wait until you were with Tova, so we could speak privately.”
“About what?”
“I know what I said in there upset you.”
She stared at him in confusion. “What did you say? My mind had drifted.”
He stopped in front of her. “Don’t, Ash. I handled it poorly. I should have told you I was leaving before I told the others.”
“Leaving?”
“Yes, I said that when we reach the city—”
“You’re going on ahead to reunite with your brother and sister. Is that what you think made me run outside?” She gave a soft laugh. “No, Ronan. I’m quite aware that you intend to return to them quickly. If you must know, I came out because a spirit summoned me.”
Now it was his turn to laugh under his breath. “You don’t need to make excuses—”
“You do think highly of yourself, don’t you? I’m truly following a spirit. Which is getting impatient. Now, I need to find out what it wants. If you wish to follow, you may do so, though I’ll warn you it may be disappointing when I don’t break down sobbing behind the stables.”
He had the grace to look abashed. “I didn’t think you were coming out for that.”
“No, just to wander about the stables, wallowing in my grief and the stink of horse dung.” She continued on as the spirit summoned her, more urgently now. “I know you’re eager to return to your siblings. I’d think less of you if you didn’t hurry back to them. You’re a good brother.”
His gaze slid to the side, his eyes filling with a look she couldn’t quite catch. “Not always.”
“Tyrus offered to pay you handsomely. You weighed the options and decided Jorn and Aidra were better served if you came with us.”
“It’s not a matter of option, Ash. I don’t truly have . . . It’s not as if I could simply . . .” He trailed off and rubbed his mouth.
She slowed, but the spirit urged her on.
“There’s something I need to speak to you about,” he said. “I tried, before we parted the last time. I should have. It would better explain the decision I made . . . not to be with you.”
“Can we not discuss this again?”
They’d come around the stables now to a side yard, where a girl was currying a horse while two traders talked, both trying to impress her.
Stop, child. Hide yourself.
Ashyn backed around the side of the stable. Ronan did the same, without comment.
“Do you remember our meal in the inn?” he whispered. “The last one? Before we parted? We spoke of the girl you’d met. The casteless one.”
Listen now, the spirit said.
“Yes, but I need to—”
“You know that my family was stripped of their warrior caste for backing the wrong imperial successor. Do you understand what that means?”
“Of course. Your family is no longer allowed to claim their caste. They’re moved down the ranks, according to the severity of the crime. Can we discuss this later? I truly need to—”
“And I truly need to explain this, Ash. While it’s usually a lowering of rank, sometimes—”
“—bastard prince?” one of the traders was saying.
Ashyn urgently waved Ronan to be silent, but he’d already stopped and moved closer to listen.
“That’s what you expect, isn’t it?” the man continued. “From a bastard? He was a clever one, though. Playing the fool.”
“I didn’t think him a fool,” the servant girl said.
The second man snorted. “Because he’s young and handsome. And he was no fool. He simply played one. That was the game. Smile for the crowds. Take no part in politics. Spend his days sparring and chasing pretty girls.”
“As a prince should,” the other man said. “I know that’s what I’d do if I were an imperial bastard.”
“Because you’re a fool. Young Tyrus was not.”
Ashyn stiffened. It had certainly seemed they’d meant Tyrus, but until they named him, she’d not been sure. As she tensed, Ronan laid his hand on her hip, squeezing it as he braced himself against her.
“No?” the other trader said. “I’d say that’s exactly what he was. An overreaching fool who proved himself a coward. That’s what I expect from a bastard. Weakness. When the emperor spreads his seed so far, it thins, and the result is always this. Weak sons. Cowards.”
“So it’s true then?” the girl said. “What they say Prince Tyrus did?”
“It is indeed. Ran from the battlefield and left his men to die. Which sounds very familiar, doesn’t it?”
When the girl said nothing, one of the traders laughed. “She’s too young to remember. He means Marshal Kitsune. That’s the crime he was exiled for. Running from a losing battle and sacrificing his men. Which we all know was a lie. The emperor feared the marshal’s power and had him framed and exiled. Now the goddess has exacted her punishment. His own son has done the same thing. Judgment has already been passed. When the bastard prince slinks back to the imperial court, his father plans to exact the same penalty. Death to the coward who bears his name. Fitting, don’t you think?”
The spirit whispered something, but Ashyn was already racing back to the inn with Ronan right behind her.