Page 33 of Lake of Sorrow

“That’s not as appealing as guys seem to think.”

“No? What is appealing?”

“Having men respect you and not order you around.”

“It is easier to have sex with women.”

“I’m sure.”

But it wasn’t for him. Not with the possible repercussions.

Maybe that thought came to his mind, because Vlerion sighed, released her, and stepped back.

Crenoch whuffed. The taybarri had finished their piles of pellets, and both their snouts pointed toward the trail.

“We’re ready to continue on.” Vlerion waved for Kaylina to follow Crenoch and Levitke, and he walked behind her, keeping her protectively between the strong taybarri and his sword arm.

She didn’t mind him wanting to keep her safe, but she did worry that seeing her in danger would bring out the beast. She supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing if he was surrounded by Kar’ruk when it happened and could use all that deadly strength against enemies of the kingdom. But if he attacked her or the innocent taybarri… that would be horrific—if not fatal. She knew he wouldn’t forgive himself for either crime.

9

A mystery entices like the known never can.

~ Lord General Menok

Hours passed, and the day grew warmer as Kaylina and Vlerion clambered through the preserve on the trail of the Kar’ruk. The taybarri, faithfully tracking their enemies across the miles, picked up their pace.

Kaylina, who’d alternated walking behind and riding on Levitke, looked around, realizing she’d been daydreaming, if not dozing. The scant minutes of sleep she’d gotten in Vlerion’s bed the night before hadn’t been refreshing, and her eyes were gritty with fatigue.

Earlier, he’d sung to her, his voice far more appealing than he’d implied, so she could learn the lyrics of his song of soothing. Unfortunately, its pleasant notes and his rich voice had turned it into a lullaby, prompting her to doze, and she didn’t remember the words.

As the taybarri loped through the trees, Vlerion sniffed the air. Trying to detect the telltale musky scent of the Kar’ruk?

Throughout the day, they hadn’t caught any glimpses of the two warriors they’d been following. More than once, Kaylina had seen Vlerion look back, as if wishing he’d gone after the main group. It was possible these two were deliberately leading them away from their comrades, from the core of whatever plot the Kar’ruk were enacting.

“With luck, the rangers have reached that camp by now and are on the trail of the larger group,” Vlerion mused.

Crenoch and Levitke whuffed and increased their pace again. Vlerion turned his focus forward.

Kaylina touched her sling, but she didn’t smell anything other than growing vegetation and a few early spring flowers blooming. Ahead, the forest thinned, and she wondered if they were coming out of the preserve.

No, they had reached a lake that spread along the floor of a valley, the banks thick with trees aside from a couple of pebbly beaches allowing access. At the far end, a waterfall flowed into the clear blue lake. At the closer end, reeds rose up around lily pads. Beyond the walls of the valley, the snow-smothered Evardor peaks were visible. Geese and other waterfowl Kaylina couldn’t name floated near the lilies, dipping their beaks in for food.

The view was beautiful, and, for some reason, it was also familiar.

“Huh,” Vlerion said from Crenoch’s back as the two taybarri headed for one of the beaches.

“Have you been here before?” Kaylina peered around for threats, but it looked like the taybarri had momentarily forgotten their tracking mission and wanted a drink and a swim, much as they had at the creek. Indeed, they padded straight into the lake, stout tails swishing across the surface.

“Not personally, but the artist who did my brother’s painting must have been here.” Vlerion looked around, his gaze lingering on the waterfall.

Yes, Kaylina realized with a jolt. That was where she’d seen this lake before. On a wall in the hallway of Vlerion’s estate. His mother had said the painting had been created to honor her fallen son, Vlarek.

“The real Lake of Sorrow and Triumph, that which inspired my brother’s song and is loosely tied to historical events, is in the Southern Evardor mountains, near the Pass of Tears, hundreds of miles from here. Halfway to your islands, in fact.”

“That’s the name of the song you’re teaching me, right? That you hum.”

“Teaching you? You fell asleep every time I sang it.”