Daughter of the Dragon

Chapter 28: The Patrol (NEW)

Valant stood in the courtyard, next to the well-house, scratching the stubble on his chin. He briefly entertained the notion of growing a beard, then dismissed the idea. It would be years—if ever—before it was thick enough to match Rijek, so it was better to keep raking it off.

Where had the girls gone? He'd searched the manor high and low, looking into every nook and cranny he could think of that wasn't sealed. So where had his lovely companions gone? Not the arboretum; Valant had come from there. There was the village. Jakov had warned against going there, but maybe the girls had disobeyed him? But why would they? It made no sense.

"Think, Valant. Think. You know Darya better than anyone. Where did she go?" he mumbled to himself. Draya was the key. She had run off to sulk; Meika had followed. So, out the main gate and down the hill—but not to the village. The other way, then. Down the Old Road, past the oak where they had met Bairo, and then what? There was nothing down there except the road—and the cemetery. No way Darya had gone down to the revenants. That left the forest, which didn't make much sense, but it was the only place Valant could think of.

The sun was still up, slowly sinking towards the western hills, but the day had been hot, and the evening shadows offered little respite. Valant drank deep from the water bucket before grabbing Adamant and heading downhill.

He didn't expect to need the sword, but Jakov insisted he always carry it. The blade was Valant's focus—and a mage should always bring his focus. Valant could still cast his spells without it, but it was much more complicated. At the moment, he could barely get it right with the focus in hand, so keeping Adamant close was essential.

The girls had several hours of head start. They could be far away by now, but Valant hoped Darya had stopped when she reached the woods. There wasn't much reason for venturing deep into the forest, but with Darya, you never quite knew what she might do. Like her brother, she was stubborn to a fault and sometimes took risks just to show that she was braver than the other kids. Not that they were children anymore, but Darya was still Darya. Likely to do something brash that would get someone else in trouble.

Like that time two summers ago when he and Haran had been up to their usual dares and double dares, and Darya had somehow gotten them to race across the pasture with the young bulls. It had been all fun and games until one bull knocked down the gate—and the rest escaped and caused all sorts of mischief. Old Travers hadn't been especially pleased with his offspring that day, but Darya had gotten off lightly. Haran, not so much. Valant smiled to himself; village life wasn't always dull.

Valant went down the steep, gravelly path from the manor and came around the withered stone block at the edge of the orchard. To his right, rows of apple trees; to the left, pears; and further down the path, soldiers. There were five: four on foot up front, two with speaks and shields, followed by a pair of crossbowmen, trailed by an armored man atop a dappled grey stallion.

His hand went to Adamant's hilt, but he didn't draw the sword yet. The newcomers didn't look like the Count's men—no sign of his heraldry, the white bridge upon a blue background—so Valant had to assume these men were enemies. He wished he had gotten a better look at the Livonians that attacked Ela's hut, but unless a second invasion was ongoing, it had to be them.

Which meant they had come to Deepwood looking for the Daughter of the Dragon. Had they found Darya and Meika? Were the girls already captured or in danger? Or were they safely hidden in the woods? It was impossible to know, so Valant put it out of his mind.

It was a tricky situation. Valant could disengage by leaving the path to take cover within the orchard. However, the neat rows of fruit trees didn't provide much cover or concealment. It would still be five against one, and the enemy had ranged weapons and cavalry. If he was lucky, he could break up their cohesion and take them out, one by one, but betting on luck was not a sound tactic, and the risk of being shot in the back or run down was too great.