“I can’t believe you never told him. I mean, I know Esrahaddon told us not to, but I guess I just expected that you would anyway.”

“I don’t trust that wizard. I don’t want me or Hadrian wrapped up in his little schemes. I couldn’t care less who the guardian is, or the heir, for that matter. Maybe it was a mistake coming here.”

“You came here on purpose? You mean this had nothing to do with—You came here for proof, didn’t you?”

“I wanted something to confirm Esrahaddon’s claim. I really didn’t expect to find anything.”

“He just told me his father trained him night and day in sword fighting and said his skills were for greater things. Sounds like proof to me. You know, you would have discovered that if you had just talked to him. He deserves the truth, and when he gets back, one of us needs to tell him.”

Royce nodded, carefully refolding the letter. “I’ll talk to him.”

CHAPTER 9

THE GUARDIAN

The oak clenched the earth with a massive hand of gnarled roots unchanged by time. In the village, houses were lost to fires. New homes were built to accommodate growing families, and barns were raised on once vacant land, but on this hill time stood as still as the depths of Gutaria Prison. Standing beneath the tree’s leaves, Hadrian felt young again.

Here, at this tree, Haddy had first kissed Arbor, the shoemaker’s daughter. He and Dunstan had been competing for years for her favor, but Haddy kissed her first. That had been what started the fight. Dun had known better. He had seen Haddy spar with his father, and witnessed Haddy beat the old reeve for whipping Willie, a villein friend of theirs. The reeve had been too embarrassed to report to the bailiff that a fourteen-year-old boy had bested him. Haddy’s skill was no secret to Dunstan, but rage had overcome reason.

When Dunstan found out about Arbor, he had charged at Haddy, who instinctually sidestepped and threw him to the ground. Misfortune landed Dun’s head on a fieldstone. He had lain unconscious with blood running from his nose and ears. Horrified, Haddy had carried him back to the village, convinced he had just killed his best friend. Dun recovered, but Haddy never would. He never spoke to Arbor again. Three days later, the boy known as Haddy had left for good.

Hadrian slumped to the ground and sat in the shade of the tree with his back to the old oak’s trunk. When he had been a boy, this had been where he had always come to think. From here, he could see the whole village below and the hills beyond—hills that had called to him, and a horizon that had whispered of adventure and glory.

Royce and Arista would be wondering where he had gone. Hadrian was not usually self-indulgent on the job.