Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Creagan’s grin widened when he saw them approach. “Well, look what finally arrived.”
Torden stopped beside the table. “Finally?”
“I've been waiting for you.”
“With great hardship, I see,” Legion said.
Creagan glanced at the woman beside him. “I make the best of difficult circumstances.”
She laughed.
Creagan whispered something to her that earned him a kiss on the cheek before she rose from the bench.
“I'll see you later?” she asked.
“If fortune favors me.”
She smiled and walked away.
Torden watched her go before taking his place on the bench. “Fortune seems to favor you often.”
“I've always considered myself blessed.”
Legion sat opposite them.
For a moment the three men simply looked at one another.
Creagan's amusement softened. “It has been a long time.”
“Aye,” Legion said.
“Too long,” Torden added.
Creagan lifted his tankard. “Then we should drink to finding one another again.”
Torden caught the attention of a serving lass and ordered ale.
Only after three tankards had been set before them and they'd raised them together did Torden look at Creagan.
“So, what did you find out?”
Creagan's brow rose.
Legion leaned back. “You heard the summons. You knew where to meet us. You were already in Morra Mist, yet you weren't there.”
“And neither of you believed a beautiful woman might have detained me?”
“We did,” Torden said.
“Two beautiful women,” Legion corrected.
Creagan looked pleased. “It's good to know you both still think so highly of me.”
“But you weren't late because of a woman,” Legion said.
Creagan's smile faded. “Nay.”
Torden leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “So, what did you find out?”
Creagan took a drink before answering. “Someone wants Queen Eudora off the throne.”
Neither man spoke.
“The question is who,” Creagan continued, “and why.”
“You're certain?” Legion asked.
“Certain enough that respectable men who should know better are beginning to question whether she's the legitimate queen.”
Torden frowned. “On what grounds?”
“That's the interesting part. No one seems to know.”
Legion's eyes narrowed.
“Exactly,” Creagan said. “Rumors are moving through Morra Mist faster than the truth can catch them. I've heard them from farmers, merchants, men in taverns and chieftains. Everyone has heard something. No one knows where it started.”
“Or who started it,” Torden said.
“Not even a hint,” Creagan said.
Legion glanced around the crowded tavern settling on the woman who had just left Creagan’s side. “And the woman?”
Creagan smiled. “She works in the castle kitchens.”
Torden stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
Legion laughed.
Creagan spread his hands. “What? A man can enjoy his work.”
“What did she tell you?” Legion asked.
“That the castle knows something is coming. Guards have been increased. The queen has been meeting privately with men she appears to trust, and more messages than usual have been coming and going.”
Torden reached for his ale. “So, she didn't summon us because of rumors.”
“Nay,” Creagan said. “Whatever is happening, I think the queen knows more than anyone else does.”
Legion looked toward the tavern door. “Then perhaps it's time we find out what.”
Creagan shook his head. “Not yet.”
Torden's brow rose. “The queen summoned us.”
“And she's waited this long,” Creagan said. “She can wait another day.”
Legion studied him. “You think there's more to learn.”
“I think we're sitting in the town where the rumors appear to be spreading fastest. It would be foolish to walk into the castle before we learn what we can.”
Torden considered that, then nodded. “One day.”
“One day,” Legion agreed.
Creagan lifted his tankard. “Excellent. Now that that's settled, we can finish our ale.”
Torden shook his head. “Some things never change.”
Creagan grinned. “And you should both be grateful for it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Queen Eudora
Eudora stood at the window of her private solar, staring beyond the walls of Dunsire toward the distant hills.
Where were they? Three days had passed since she'd stood alone in the forest and spoken the words her grandmother had taught her.
War that conquers.
Thunder that roars.
The final strike when kingdoms fall.
Three legendary warriors summoned to protect Morra Mist in its time of need, if they truly existed.
Eudora pressed her hand against the cool stone surrounding the window, hearing her grandmother’s voice as if she were there with her.
They will hear you, Eudora. But once you summon them, breathe not a word of what you have done. Not to your council. Not to your commander. Not even to the person you trust above all others. Some secrets survive only because they are kept.
At twelve years old, Eudora hadn't understood why her grandmother's warning had been so severe.
She understood now… someone wanted her throne.
Of that Eudora had no doubt.
Her council knew of the whispers spreading through Morra Mist, the questions being raised about her right to rule and the growing unrest among some of her people.
What they didn't know was that Eudora had learned far more than she'd shared with them.
Agnes had seen to that.
The healer had been a trusted friend of her grandmother's for many years and traveled extensively throughout Morra Mist and occasionally beyond its shores. Eudora had known her since she was young and shared Agnes's fascination with healing plants, often eager to hear of some new use she'd discovered or an unfamiliar plant she'd encountered in her travels.