Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 40: Only Good Strategy

"No." Anna's smile was feral. "I just want to watch him die. Very, very slowly."

Several men stepped backwards. Dartmouth muttered something under his breath that sounded uncomplimentary.

"I'll go first," Ryne said, stepping forward.

Ryne bumped Dartmouth's shoulder none-too-gently on the way past, although it could have been an accident. He reared back — as if to kick down the door — and Isaac's chest gave a sudden, painful squeeze.

"Ry," Isaac said, catching his shoulder. "Don't."

Ryne stilled. Isaac's heartbeat was loud in his own ears. He was aware of everyone staring, but he no longer cared. Listen to me. His fingers dug into Ryne's shoulder. Turn back before it's too late.

Isaac swallowed. "If they're waiting for us on the other side..." Which they would be. He knew they would be, thanks to own idiocy. "There's no turning back. They could trap us in this tunnel. It would be a slaughter."

"We've been over this." Ryne's voice was calm. "Step back."

Isaac closed his eyes. He knew that voice. It was the "I-am-your-king-and-you-will-listen-to-me" voice. There was no point in arguing with it.

Isaac released him.

Ryne kicked down the door. A sudden wave of dust went up. Several men coughed, burying their faces in their sleeves as they pushed into the room. A shaft in the ceiling let through moonlight, which coloured the sparse furniture in silver: a mirror, a wooden chandelier, two benches... But no people, Isaac realized, his chest easing; it was just them.

"You see?" Dartmouth strode into the centre. "There's nothing to be afraid of." He held out his hands. "Nobody knows about this tunnel. It's been unused for—"

An arrow struck his head.

Dartmouth's body jerked sideways. His body fell to the floor with a thump, and red pooled around his head. Blood roared in Isaac's ears. Next to him, Penny was staring at the body, her eyes wide.

"Fuck," she breathed.

Isaac didn't have the heart to correct her language.

Someone stepped into the moonlight. "Hello, cousin. Nice of you to stop in."

Eris Delafort was dressed in a red velvet suit, his dark hair neatly combed. He lowered the bow. Blood ran through the cracks of the tiles, pooling near his shoes, and Eris wrinkled his nose. Took a step back.

"Eris," Ryne said dryly. "Your sense of hospitality could use some work."

Eris wiped his hands on a handkerchief. "I don't like guests."

"Funny." Ryne's hand twitched behind his back in a shooing gesture. The message was clear: retreat. "I don't recall this castle belonging to you. The last time I checked, you were a guest here, too."

Eris waved a hand. "Semantics. Oh, I wouldn't bother, if I were you." He raised his voice, looking at the soldiers creeping back into the tunnel. "A hundred of my men are waiting on the other side of that tunnel. They're very cross at being kept up so late. And they're all carrying vast amounts of weaponry."

"No offense," Ryne said, "but I fancy my chances."

Eris raised an eyebrow. "Even with the sunhounds?"

The room stilled.

Anna stepped forward. "What did you just say?"

She looked very small in the vast room. God-Slayer winked at her back, turning to a beam of starlight in the darkness. Eris's green eyes glittered.