Songbird's Cage

Chapter 13

Staring straight ahead, Lark fidgeted in her saddle. It was early morning, and she'd barely slept the night before, her first night out in the open in years preventing any rest. Silas rode beside her, with a guard in front of them, and a guard behind. He had refused to let her go alone to the border, as it meant a night in the land between. But he hadn't been happy to learn of her actions, only agreeing because he knew that she would be safer without a guard in the wilds, and because she was his future queen.

"We'll be in view of the border soon," Silas told her. "You're making a mistake, Lark."

"There are too many things I need to know," she said, shaking her head. "I'll be alright. I know how to fight."

"But do you know how to protect yourself?"

She went quiet. There was fear in her heart about crossing the border – she'd never been anywhere outside the kingdoms she grown up in, anywhere outside the boundary of royal law. Little information of the Wilds crossed into Esaria, except rumors and stories, many of which were used to frighten children, many to remind those who might break the law of their place.

"There's the wall, my lord," said one of the guards. "Should we continue?"

"Yes," Silas muttered. "Your future queen is intent on getting herself killed."

Lark looked up in awe at the ancient wall before them. It was five times the height of a man, and wide enough for a carriage to drive along the battlements, build of pale grey and dark stone. She'd been taught the history of the Esarian border, that the first king of the land had ordered it built to keep back the natives of the country he'd invaded, those who'd dissented the royal law, as the extent of his new land was too much to protect without it.

A man in a uniform bearing the royal crest emerged from the barracks that were built beside the wall, walking towards their horses.

"Duke Silas," he called. "Forgive me for the state of things. I was only just informed of your arrival. No message was sent ahead of you."

"It was at my order, Captain Reyland," Silas answered. "The royal family is still wary of attacks."

"Of course."

Silas dismounted, and Lark did the same, glad to be dressed in pants and a loose shirt than in a dress and riding sidesaddle.

"How fares the watch, Reylan?" Silas asked. "How many men on duty?"

"Thirty on a quarter league and sixty standing by at every shift," the Captain responded. "Four hundred men in all. But it's been quiet, my lord, eerily so. Not a whisper of attack or approach in weeks now."

"Even from the eastern post?"

"Their last sighting was a month ago."

Silas frowned, his dark eyes moving along the top of the wall.

"Forgive me, my lord, but why have you come out here?" Reylan said. "I sent my weekly report to you four days ago."

"In good time," Silas said, inclining his head. "If you don't mind, we'd like to stretch our legs and rest for a minute. We've been riding for hours."

"Of course."

Reylan's eyes moved across them, stopping on Lark for only a moment with barely a hesitation or a hint of recognition, settling on the burly soldier beside her. He studied the man before looking briefly back in her direction.

"Are these the new recruits we spoke of last time?" he asked. "I didn't expect a girl. I don't think she'd fare well here, knowing my men."

Silas smiled slightly. "Reylan, this is Princess Lark. I don't suspect she'll be joining your ranks, however capable she may be."

Captain Reylan flushed, and quickly bowed low.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said. "I didn't recognize you."

"Good," Silas remarked. "That was the intention."

Lark could see that Reylan wanted to ask, though he clearly knew it wasn't his place to. Instead, he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, absently tapping his palm against it.

"My lord," he said. "I'm honored by your visit, but you know that I'm a busy man. The guard changes in a quarter hour, and I have to settle the matter of two men who deserted their posts. What are you here for?"

"Rory of Caershire left the kingdom through this border outpost," Silas said. "The information was in your last report."

Captain Reylan's face fell, and he nodded.

"Yes. A good man, Rory. He served under me for the better part of a year before he returned to his position at the castle. It wasn't easy to see him go."

"Princess Lark has taken it upon herself to find information on the group of assassins he was serving," Silas said, and Lark could almost feel how hard it was for him to say those words, the bitterness he held at his orders not being followed. "She's covering her identity, as she wants to understand what life outside the protection of the kingdom is like."

Reylan blinked, hastily covering his look of disbelief.

"As you wish," he said. "I'll have the gates opened."

He left them in courtyard, and Silas walked back to his horse, opening his saddlebag. Lark watched him pull out a folded piece of vellum and a weathered brass compass.

"This is a map of all that's been charted of the Wilds by Esarians," he told her. "I can't speak for its accuracy, but it's better than having you blindly riding through the forest. My brother will never forgive me if you end up missing or dead."

She nodded, accepting the map and compass, grateful for anything that would help her.

"You have a month," he said, a gruffness to his voice that hadn't been there before. "If you're not back by then, I'll have the forests burnt to the ground to get you safely back to Esaria. You don't know what you're risking out there, Lark."

"I know exactly what I'm risking, Silas."

He looked away, taking a slow breath.

"Good luck, Princess," he said. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Lark put what he had given her into her saddlebags and mounted Flyte. The iron portcullis was being raised, four men pushing open the massive wooden door.

"Goodbye, Silas," she said. "Give my regards to Aspen. Tell him that I'll see him soon."

Steadying herself, gathering her courage, she pressed her heels into Flyte's ribs, spurring her forwards.