Prince of Traitors

Jasper

Owin and I are cautious as we approach the soldiers' encampment on Astria's side of the border. We stick to the forest as much as we can, staying under the cover of the trees like we did in Odrend.

Night begins to fall as we near a camp. The conglomerate of tents forms a large, lopsided circle, the perimeter and walkways between the tents lit with torches stuck into the dirt.

"We should go around," I begin.

Owin looks at me, hearing my voice trail off. "But?"

I sigh. "Before he died, my father found someone is his court who was spying for Astria. Sending them Odrend's military movements and things like that," I say. "Part of me wants to stick around and see if anyone knows anything."

I expect Owin to argue, but she nods, her hands resting on her slender waist. "Okay."

"You're agreeing with me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs one shoulder. "We could use some supplies anyway," she says. "Think we should split up, see what we can find?"

"Good idea. Meet back here in thirty minutes?"

Owin nods and tugs her hood up to cover the silver sheen of her hair. "Stay safe," she says, and slinks away into the dark.

I leave the shadow of the trees and make my way around the perimeter of the tent city, looking for someone in the polished uniform of an officer or captain. I don't see any, but I spot a small group of soldiers seated around a small fire near the mess tent. I creep closer, kneeling in the brush behind the tent to listen to what they have to say:

"Think the Odrendi prince killed the king?" one says.

"Probably," says another. His voice slurs as he takes a swig of his ale. "Bastard must've wanted 'is father outta the way so 'e could be king."

"I heard he was the one that helped Hawkin send the king's military plans," says a third man.

The second guffaws. "Good on 'im, the royal shit! Made the last few months a fuckin' dream. Beat those Odrendi shits before they even knew what hit 'em."

"Why do you think he did it?" the first man asks.

"Why do you think?" the second man retorts. "Spoiled child wanted to be the 'ero, so 'e shares the army's movements, kills the king, and takes the credit when Astria does exactly what 'e tells 'em to."

The third man rolls his eyes. "If that's his plan, then why aren't we all dead yet?"

"Fuck if I know," the second man says. "Waitin' for 'is moment, is all."

The other two men roll their eyes dismissively. "You're full of shit," the first man says. The second man flips them his middle finger, spilling his ale.

I glower at the men from my hiding place, clenching my jaw so hard I think my teeth might crack.

"Think more Navaarim will come fight?" the third asks.

"Eventually," the second one says. "That new one is a fuckin' giant."

"She's a warrior, what did you expect?"

"Women shouldn't be warriors," the second man says. "But if more Navaarim join the army maybe they'll bring some proper women. Can you imagine, rollin' in the hay with a savage?"

The other men scoff and remind their friend of his wife waiting back home. I stand and start to move back the way I came. I've heard enough.

I skirt around the tents, slowly making my way back toward the spot in the forest where Owin and I split up. I keep my hood up over my head, darting between the tents and staying behind them where the torchlight doesn't reach.

I spot Owin's silver hair as she paces in the darkness. I walk toward her, am about to get her attention—and am grabbed from behind, a knife pressed to my throat.