“You need to calm down.”

“I need to kill them all.”

“So many bodies,” Caswyn muttered. “How could they kill so many defenseless people?”

Few of the bodies purified appeared to have been warriors. Most appeared to be locals.

Keita took in a breath. “I know this is . . . disturbing.”

“It’s more than that.”

Holding up her hand to her cousin, Keita went on. “But I think Ren . . .” She took a moment, looking off and licking her lips. Attempting to get control of her emotions.

The royal cleared her throat. “I need to know if Ren is in—”

“I’ll go,” Brannie announced.

“I can’t ask—”

“You didn’t ask. But I’m not sending you in there. I can get in.”

“What if the Eastlander is . . .” Uther paused a moment, worried how to phrase the rest of his sentence. “. . . among the . . . uh . . . purified?”

“They’d know,” Aidan explained, “that as an Eastlander he must be a royal. He’d have a place of honor. Either inside the fort or right outside the main gates. I doubt he’d be left among the rows of the dead.”

“If he’s here. I’ll find him,” Brannie said.

“I’m going with you,” Aidan told her.

“No. I need you to get Keita to the Eastlands if—”

“Caswyn and Uther can get me to the Eastlands if necessary,” Keita cut in. “Aidan, go with her. I don’t want my cousin in there alone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Keita said with a determined shake of her head. “No.”

“The suns have gone down,” Aidan announced, dismounting his horse. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Letting their horses go with Uther and Caswyn, Brannie and Aidan stayed in the line of trees surrounding the fort and waited.

They waited in the same position for hours. Even when it began to rain and they were soaked to the bone, they waited.

This was why Brannie had sent Keita off with Uther and Caswyn. Not just to keep her safe but because Brannie didn’t want to hear her complain the entire time that they needed to “move! Move now!”

As a Protector of the Throne—something that still had Brannie’s mind spasming every time she thought about it—Keita might have the patience necessary in every assassin, but knowing Ren might be trapped inside that fort, possibly being tortured . . .

No. It was best she was kept out of the middle of this for now. For her own good and the good of everyone else.

The downpour had stopped by the time Brannie saw what she’d expected all along . . . that this fort was very well protected.

For those unwilling to wait, it probably appeared as if the fort was undefended like many of the temples in the Southlands. But the Zealots weren’t like other god worshippers and this was no temple. It was a battle fort. Nothing more or less.