Chapter Twenty-Five

Tarragon did not give me the option to argue, catching me by the elbow and propelling me down the stairs at a pace that took all of my concentration not to fall. Before I knew it, we were entering the grand hall of the keep. There were swags of sweet-scented greenery, flowers woven into long chains, and tables heavy with tablecloths, candles, and platters of food.

Considering the state of the household when we arrived, Derien had used some magic to transform the chamber, making it what it had been before tragedy had struck the household despite his earlier cautions that the household would not wait upon us.

I wondered at his change of attitude.

Not all those gathered were from the campaign. Many were from the villages at the base of the mountains from their clothing and as I had not seen their faces before. They looked terrified. Had Derien abducted the poor villages from their homes and forced them to attend? Why?

The mage sat in the head chair upon the raised dais, a table that held