Free A Realm of Shadows by Morgan Rice Page A

shouldn’t—but I do. Maybe it’s your foolish
recklessness. Maybe it’s your naivete, your optimism. In any case, stop this.
Go tell your father you made a mistake and stay here with me and the rest of the
men. There’s safety in numbers. You will die out there alone.”
    Aidan shook his
head.
    “You just don’t
understand me,” he said. “That is not who I am. There is more danger in trying
to save your life than in being willing to lose it.”
    Motley scoffed.
    “That sounds
like something from one of those old books of yours. I told you to stop reading
about the past. Those warriors are all dead now. Where did all their valor get
them?”
    Aidan frowned.
    “Their valor made
their lives worth living, and it is the only reason we even remember their
names today,” Aidan replied.
    “And what then is
so great about being remembered?” Motley countered. “Will you really even care if
you are remembered once you are dead?”
    Aidan went to
respond, but Motley raised a hand.
    “I see there’s
no sense that can be talked into you, boy,” Motley added. “But I will tell you
there is a danger in being a warrior before your time. It is not yet your time.”
    “Then when is my
time?” Aidan rebuffed angrily. “When I’m old and gray? Your time comes when it
chooses you—not when you choose it.”
    Motley sighed
long and hard.
    “I was afraid
you’d say something like that. Something bold and foolish. Very well, then. Since
there’s no changing your mind, at least take this.”
    Aidan looked
down and was surprised as Motley reached out and placed something in his hand. He
examined it, baffled, turning it over in his palm. It looked like a piece of curved
ivory.
    “What is it?”
Aidan asked.
    Motley reached
out and grabbed the two ends of the ivory and separated them, and to Aidan’s
shock, a concealed blade appeared, gleaming.
    “A dagger,”
Aidan breathed, in awe.
    Motley nodded
with pride.
    “As sharp as you’ll
find in the kingdom, and as well hidden.”
    He reached up
and clasped Aidan’s shoulder.
    “Just be sure to
return it to me. I don’t like to see my weapons lost. Especially stage weapons.
They’re hard to come by, you know.”
    Aidan’s eyes
welled with gratitude as he realized Motley’s concern for him. He stepped
forward and hugged Motley, and Motley hugged him back.
    Motley then
stepped back.
    “I never had a
son, you know,” he said to Aidan, looking down with pride and sadness.
    Then, quickly, before
Aidan could respond, he turned and walked away.
    Aidan watched
him go, filled with gratitude, seeing what a great friend Motley had become. He
had been wrong, he realized, to have judged him and dismissed him merely
because he was an actor and not a warrior. Motley was, in his own way, a finer warrior
than many of the others here, Aidan realized. He had his own sense of valor.
    Aidan heard a
shuffling of feet, and he turned to see Cassandra standing close by, waiting
for him. As she looked at him, he saw something in her eyes he had not seen
before. Something like caring.
    “So you are just
going to leave me alone with all these men, are you?” she asked.
    Aidan smiled, feeling
a wave of guilt at leaving her.
    “My father will
care for you like a daughter,” he replied.
    She shook her
head and there flashed in her eyes a glimpse of the defiance, the steel-like
resolve, that had kept her alive on the streets.
    “I don’t need
taking care of,” she replied proudly. “I’ve taken care of myself all my life. What
I want is to join you.”
    Aidan stared
back, surprised. He wondered if she wanted to go on the journey, or if she
wanted to be with him.
    “It is no
journey for you,” he answered.
    “And yet it is
for you?” she asked.
    He frowned.
    “What if you
came and something happened to you?” he asked. “It would be on my head.”
    “It is on your
head anyway,” she answered with a smile. “You saved me. I would be dead
otherwise. So anything that happens to me