Remove the Shroud: The King's Ranger Book 3 by AC Cobble

Author:AC Cobble [Cobble, AC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cobble Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

The walk out of the city felt like they were rowing away from a burning ship with the lone rowboat while the rest of the passengers were still wondering just how bad the fire was going to be. The people of Stanton paid them little regard. Their eyes were searching for men and women in Baron Appleby’s service, though there were some who seemed to recognize the adventurers. Rew supposed the mercenaries had been in the city for some time, and they’d left and returned before. All the same, each time he met the gaze of a citizen of the town, Rew felt raw. No one knew when the Dark Kind might strike, so there was no guarantee he and the others would make it to Carff in time. Even if they did, there was no guarantee that Prince Valchon would act. Logically, Rew knew that rushing south was the only way to save the city and that he was the most suitable candidate to do it, but in his heart, it was difficult to watch the city’s children scampering in and out of the alleyways playing. He knew they’d have no chance if he failed.

He tried to absorb as much of Stanton as he could, purposefully memorizing scenes and faces. A mother laughed and tossed a knotted ball of rags to half a dozen children who took it and ran gleefully into a park. A blacksmith’s face was lit by the fires of his forge. A group of young men in an open tavern lifted mugs of wine and winked at a group of young women who were walking by. The adults on the streets wore forced smiles and tried to ignore the cloak of worry that hung on their shoulders. The younger people, who hadn’t been alive during the war with the Dark Kind or the last Investiture, beamed with life. Stanton, when not surrounded by narjags, was a prosperous city if not rich like the capitals, and life must have been good for many of the citizens. Rew wondered if it would be good again.

These people were going to suffer because of something they did not understand, something that most of them would never have heard of. The Investiture was a game of the nobility, and while plenty of those nobles would fall during it, it was the innocent citizens of Vaeldon who Rew felt sorry for. Like horses in a cavalry charge, they were spurred and whipped, rushing toward a danger they could not comprehend and spoils they would never enjoy.

It was a relief when the group finally cleared the last buildings of the city and moved down the highway into open land—a relief and a torment. Rew felt guilty that they weren’t doing more, though he didn’t know what else they could do. It was the same way he’d felt ten years prior, when he’d first fled to Eastwatch. It’d been cowardice then, to turn his back on the knowledge he had, even when he knew there was nothing he could do.

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