“Please excuse my interruption,” the young man said quietly, ignoring the clutter in the room as he looked between Ren and Lord Tyke. Judging by his cautious expression, he had heard Lord Tyke's shouting. “A messenger just arrived. He's waiting in the courtyard and he says he'll only speak to the prince. He says it's urgent.”

Ren spun on his heel and left the chambers without another glance at Lord Tyke. He'd have to talk to him again later, make him understand what was at stake. He let the door fall shut behind him.

“Forgive me, but Lord Tyke didn't sound pleased,” the young soldier noted as he led Ren through the rough stone corridors.

“He wasn't.” Ren glanced at the man. The scars on the side of his face did little to detract from his good looks. He was handsome, with a sharp jawline, brown eyes, and long lashes. His skin had the same golden hue as Anik's. In Aleria, Ren might have taken him to bed. Such thoughts seemed shallow and unimportant, now. “What's your name?”

“Jayce, my lord. I'm a physician. And a soldier, and a messenger.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a crooked smile. “Whatever I'm needed to be. A physician first and foremost, however. If you'd like, I can tend to that cut at your leisure.”

Ren nodded. “Is it true, what Lord Tyke told me? That Stag's Run is falling apart? Where are all the men?”

Jayce frowned. “It's true,” he confirmed. “Stag's Run hasn't seen a real threat in many years. Certainly not in the time I've been here. Not that I mind so much, personally, my lord. I needed time to recover,” he added, gesturing to his missing arm. “And with one blind eye and one deaf ear, I'm not as sharp in a fight as I used to be.”

Ren glanced at Jayce, noticing now the milkiness of his right eye. His ear was torn and jagged.

Jayce continued. “The fort isn't exactly in its prime. The foundations of the western battlements are crumbling and our weapons and equipment have seen better days. We're also painfully undermanned. No one wants to stay here long when all we do every day is throw spears at targets and freeze our asses off. Excuse my language.”

“Understandable,” Ren said, feeling some of his childhood fantasies about the place shatter.

They left the dark corridors behind and exited into the courtyard, the double doors pushed open by a pair of guards who seemed to have been stationed there only after Ren's arrival.

The messenger was still on horseback, standing at the foot of the stone stairs. The animal's coat was damp with sweat and its mouth dripped with foam. He had been riding hard.

Leaving Jayce behind by the doors, Ren took the stairs two at a time. A guard stood on either side of the messenger. Ren stopped just over a sword's length away and gestured for the man to speak.