Daughter of the Dragon

Chapter 21: The Manor (UPDATED)

Darya looked from Bairo to Valant to Meika and back to the flaxen-haired troubadour. Everything Bairo had said was true—as far as he knew it—including the part about her father being injured during the attack. Tessa had been harder to read—or maybe Darya had gotten better at it—but she had been telling the truth. Yes, the templar had deliberately twisted and omitted parts, but Darya hadn't caught her lying.

Which in turn meant their stories aligned. Daran had been injured during the attack but died from his wounds after the troubadour ran away. Well, at least that's how it could have happened. Darya hadn't seen it, but in her heart, she knew her father was dead. She desperately wished it wasn't so, but denying it was pointless. She was a true orphan now, like Meika and Valant. Another thing the three of them had in common.

Daran's death made Darya heartbroken—but also furious. At Tessa, the Livonian soldiers, the One God, and whoever was behind the attack on Stelmond. Angry—and worried. Worried that Haran was also dead or that her half-sisters and brothers were hurt. Worried that the foreign soldiers had laid their hands on Ingela, Andrea, or the other village women. Worried that everyone she had ever known—up until a few days ago—was dead, injured, or enslaved.

The old Darya would be devastated by now, a sobbing wreck clinging to Valant's broad chest. But sobbing didn't solve anything or help anyone. The new Darya she'd begun turning into didn't sit around feeling sorry for herself. Perhaps she'd shed a few tears for the dead when all this was over. But not now.

Valant stood before the troubadour, chin raised, face solemn. "You must come with us to Highrock. We have business there. After, we will go by boat to Kingshaven and tell King Larren what has befallen his realm."

Valant's little speech drought Darya out of her bitter reverie. Something was definitely up with her friend. Darya knew the blacksmith's apprentice like the back of her hand, and he wasn't acting as he should. Business in Highrock? Befallen the realm? Valant would never say such things. Darya desperately wanted to ask Meika for advice, but she couldn't. Not with the troubadour listening. It would have to wait until they were alone.

Bairo made a sweeping motion with his hand. "I'd love to journey with you to Kingshaven, My Lord. But alas, I am banned from entering the city upon pain of death. A most unfortunate misunderstanding. Years in the past now, but still, it hangs over my head, so to speak. Besides, my quest compels me. I've dallied for as long as I can. I must go now—and hope you put all the revenants to rest."

"You're literally bound to complete this quest, aren't you? You have no choice in the matter. Even delaying is painful to you, is it not?" Meika said.

"Yes, young mage. You are as insightful as you are beautiful. But more than that, I cannot tell you. It is forbidden."

Meika nodded. "I've already guessed. You came here after fleeing from Stelmond and went to the manor."

"To the village, actually, but the villagers set upon me—and then handed me to the baron. So much the same thing." So there were people still people in the village. This meant the revenants weren't there—Darya couldn't see the living and the undead coexisting. But from what Bario was saying, they were not given to trusting strangers and likely to notify the Baron.

"And the Baron of Deepwood put a spell on you, didn't he?" Meika continued.

"I... no, I don't think... I cannot remember. I just know what I must do, do it right away, and I cannot tell anyone."

Meika moved to Darya—keeping well away from the bard—and tiptoed to whisper into her friend's ear. "Rasselin was right. Baron Jakov is a mage. He put a quest—it's not a spell, more of a curse, really—on Bairo."