Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

59

They struck then. With a depleted number of forces, they struck. Aelin awoke amidst all the commotion, and Aedion was up outside, cloak billowing about him in the frigid wind as he roared at his men to 'go, go, go', and 'get your asses moving'. Soldiers scampering here and there, the clanging of metal on metal heard throughout the entire camp.

Rowan was by her side in an instant. 'An Adarlanian spy was caught. They have been interrogated. The Adarlanians are but a few ten miles away. We have at most a couple of hours to get to Orynth. We can't afford to be cornered here at Perranth.'

'Where are the others? Enya, Connall-'

'Get dressed. We are going to meet with them now. Aedion requested that the captain and the crown prince remain by our sides.' Earnest glimmered in the depths of those pine green eyes as he swept his gaze over her, beholding her hesitance. 'You'll be safe in my hands.'

Aelin gave a small nod back, the very gesture brimming with gratitude. 'I trust you.'

She threw on a thicker cloak, gathered her weapons and left the tent. The Fae (along with Chaol, Dorian, Lysandra and a young girl) were all there.

A small barb of disappointment and worry squirmed in her gut upon realising that Sam had opted to remain in the crowd of the soldiers. Rowan gave her no more time to ponder that, however, by declaring stiffly, 'We're all present. We shall set off before the Bane.'

'Where is Ansel?'

The young girl's words went unheard until Lysandra spoke up, echoing the question.

After a long moment of silence, Connall said, 'Her men didn't return from their mission. Neither did Ansel.'

The young girl gave a small hiccup of shock. Aelin, meanwhile, was staring at Lysandra's face. A lot about her had changed, including the expressions she chose to display across her face. Perhaps Enya had been right.

'Ansel can't be killed that easily,' Aelin said. 'She's Ansel.' But she wasn't entirely sure; her words seemed too foreign for herself even to grasp as they came off her tongue.

The mood was too sombre for even Dorian to strike up a conversation as they headed for the horses. Aelin and Rowan mounted one together; beside them, Dorian and Chaol. Enya and Connall fell at the rear with Lysandra and the young girl between them.

'The river,' Aelin suddenly said. She'd been thinking all this time, her stream of consciousness leaving her lips as a rapid mutter until something plausible appeared. 'They'll have to cross a river to reach us. We have to break the river to give us some time.' She lifted her hand as if to bite her already-rugged nails before her head snapped up suddenly in realisation. 'Dorian, come with me. Rowan, stay.'

And then she was gone, leaping off the horse with a motion swift as a wraith, but the moment had been long enough for them all to catch the burning ferocity in Aelin's eyes. Rowan stared after Dorian's slightly muddled, hurrying form, eyes narrowed against a cold wind beginning to whip up about them. He may have been stubborn, but it was for a good cause. There was no chance in Hellas' underworld that he'd leave Aelin alone.

'Follow me,' he barked, tugging at the reins of his own horse to wheel them around and canter back the way they'd come.

Aedion was screaming at Aelin. And she was screaming back. The wind howled; it was like a beast now, its claws tearing at everything in its path. 'We need to break the river to stop them,' Aelin roared.

'How are you planning to do that, you arse?' Aedion bellowed back from a few metres away.

'Dorian!'

'I'm trying,' Dorian said vexedly. 'I'm not good at controlling it. I need a stimulant of strong emotion.'

'Chaol!'

At this point, Dorian was utterly perplexed and wondered if Aelin had lost her mind and was shouting names. And then he felt the body slam into him, hot and fervent.

'Rutting gods above,' Rowan cursed. His facepalm was audible across the camp from a good distance away.

Chaol had his arms thrown around Dorian's, masterfully intertwining their forms.

'There's your stimulant,' Chaol mumbled into his neck, breath warm and heavy.

Dorian didn't know whether to laugh or cry as the thick ice frozen atop the wide river groaned, cracks slowly spreading outwards as delicate cobwebs did. Then he was pulled away from the riverbank and dragged back onto the horse. The entire army of Terrasen was on the move, now, and no one could afford to be left behind, least the bearer of such power.

Rowan lingered in the sky, watching the two forces make way as tiny specks - the dark swarm of Adarlarnian soldiers was put to a halt and seen to pause by the gushing river. One wrong foot and it would be a near-instant death in those torrents. Rowan huffed in brief satisfaction as he watched the ground between the two armies slowly grow larger and larger.

They had brought themselves more time.