Chapter 30
“We may as well move on. If we stop, we’ll have nothing but mud for a bed and rain for a blanket. At least this way, we’ll make to Ahdlyn by morning,” Jarrer said.
Ara hunched her cloak higher over her shoulders. There would be no dry wood for a fire. No hot meal or warm blanket. Even with her cloak, she was sodden. She shivered violently.
Lightening flashed, revealing harsh shapes against even harsher shadows. On neglected fields, makeshift tents made of blankets or patched together clothing littered the ground like refuse. Any fires that had been burning were long since doused by the downpour, the inhabitants seeking what shelter they could inside.
As morning drew closer, the clouds fled. Ara shook the rain from her cloak. A frail woman ventured into the predawn cold, bucket in hand. With a start, Ara realized she hadn’t seen a grown man for three days. Had they all been drafted?
Lodan shook, spraying water everywhere. “We must find some food for you, dear one.”
Ara swallowed at the sudden moisture in her mouth. As they’d entered the more populated areas, game had become increasingly impossible to find, and no one would sell them supplies. They’d taken to eating only a noon meal to stretch out their provisions.
Bomin rubbed his tired eyes, “It’s a good thing we’re nearly there. Much longer and we’d be in no shape to fight.”
Ara knew he was right. Her soul—like her stomach—felt sunken and hungry. Nearer the city, refugees clogged the road, fleeing from the very fight Ara and her companions were heading towards.
“Not much longer and we’ll see the city.” Jarrer didn’t seem happy about it though. Instead, he only grew more withdrawn.
Ara sat up a little straighter, straining in her saddle. She’d dreamed of seeing Ahdyln ever since she was a little girl. Returned soldiers spoke reverently of the Queen’s Mountains rising out of the midst of the plains. The likeness of the first Queen, Ahdlyn, carved into the largest, center mountain.
As the sun crested the horizon, its light casting everything in gold, the city came into view. It was enclosed by a fortress wall. But the city must have grown, because a newer, wider wall had been also been built.
It was breathtaking.
But then the wind picked up, carrying with it a hint of decay. Death. As they crossed into the city, the smell was worse. Buildings that were at a distance golden and full of life, hunched hopelessly—like cast off refuse littering the ground.
Lodan’s hooves clamored loudly on the cobblestones. The tiny hairs on Ara’s arms stood erect. Her Gift’s warning sounded.
“Don’t look Ara,” Bomin warned.
It was too late. She’d already seen the dogs tearing at a corpse between homes. From inside the houses, filthy sunken faces flashed, growing in numbers by the moment. Danger, her Gift warned. Taking great care, she checked her Gift Shield. “Surely they won’t hurt us.”
Bomin shook his head. “These people are more animals than men.”
Jarrer’s narneck shied as a figure darted across their path. “We are in great peril here!” he hissed.
Ara felt a stir of air in front of her. An arrow thunked into the doorway beside her. She watched it quiver. Is this how the corpse in the street died? If these men were given the chance, they’d kill her too.
“Back!” Jarrer said.
Lodan pivoted and galloped back the way they’d come. Clubs and rusty weapons in hand, a large group of dangerous looking men rushed from the buildings.
Lodan spun, digging for a purchase on the smooth cobblestones. Ara looked for way to escape. But a wagon and more men blocked the side streets. They only road left was the one that led deeper into Ahdlyn. Her Gift flared hot inside her. A trap?
“They’re herding us!” Bomin warned.
But even if they were, what choice did they have? Lodan leading, they took off. She leaned low over his withers to make herself a smaller target. The echo of pounding hooves reverberated loudly off the stonewalls.
Ara cursed under her breath. “Surely every thug in this place will hear us coming.”
“Traps will be set,” Lodan answered.
“Let’s hope we see them in time to avoid them.”
In the midst of a cluster of tightly packed buildings, armed men pushed a pair of wagons into their path.
Skidding to a halt, Lodan scrambled to keep his feet under him. The moment he gathered himself, he veered between two buildings. Ara had to tuck in her toes to keep them from scraping along the sides.
Rounding the corner, with Jarrer and Bomin close behind, he returned to full speed.
More bandits appeared on the forsaken streets. But they misjudged the speed of their quarry. The city gates loomed before them. Ara begged Lodan to hurry.
Just as he put on a finally burst of speed, Ara heard a scuffing sound. She glanced up to see a man leaping from a rooftop. She barely had time to duck before he collided with her.
She fumbled for her dagger. The man pressed his hand against her forehead and then hard, cold metal against her neck. “Stop now or you die!”
Fury flashed within her. He had no right to take her life! Pushing his arm with all her strength, Ara slammed the back her head into his face. He grunted but managed to stay on.
She gripped the horn tight. “Lodan, buck!”
Planting his forelegs, Lodan launched his back end into the air. The man sailed overtop of Ara and slammed into the street.
Unfortunately, he landed directly in front of Bomin. Unable to veer around the man, his horse pushed off and tucked his legs. One of his hooves smacked her assailant’s face before it hit the ground.
Bomin hurled forward, his crotch landing abruptly on his horse’s neck. He howled, his face turning a magnificent shade of green.
He began to tip precariously. Jarrer jerked him back by his cloak and set him in the saddle. It took Bomin a few tries before he managed to find his stirrups, and he’d completely lost his reins. Still his horse faithfully followed them.
Ara turned at the sound of the city gates swinging open. They closed moments after they were through. She pulled Lodan to a halt and looked back to make sure Bomin was all right.
Hunched over his horse’s neck, he didn’t look up.
A man strode purposely toward them. He sized up Ara and her companions—his eyes lingering curiously on her. “You’re lucky to have made it. After the populace evacuated, the thieves moved in. It’s dangerous to be out without at least fifty armed soldiers.”
The awful scenes she had witnessed flashed before Ara’s mind—dogs fighting over human flesh, murder bright in the eyes of her own people . . . she clung to Lodan’s mane, willing the memories to leave her.
Casting her a concerned look, Jarrer moved Brive forward. “We have news that must be shared with Nonae’s First.”
The man studied them suspiciously. Then shrugged and called for a soldier to bring him a horse. “Follow me.”
He led them down streets lined with houses made of a cream colored stone that gave the city its ‘golden look.’ Soldiers came out to stare at them as they passed.
The second set of gates was wide open, with only half-awake sentries standing guard. As they worked their way steadily upwards, the castle spires loomed overhead and homes grew larger and more ornate.
At the closed gates of the castle wall, their guide gestured for them to wait while he spoke with another set of guards. After arguing back and forth, it seemed that their escort had finally won, for they were finally allowed through.
There were two main entrances to the castle. Approaching the lesser one, their escort spoke to another set of guards. But his arguing didn’t seem to do much good. Their escort returned. “They both insist that they won’t let you through.”
Ara clenched her fists. She’d come too far and seen too much to be brushed aside now! Sweeping aside their escort, she stormed toward the sentries. “I will speak to the First. Now!”
A guard with fiery red hair poking out of his helm rested his hand on his sword hilt. “He doesn’t see uninvited guests. Even if they are Fairones!”
Before she knew what she’d done, Ara pulled her sword and attacked. Between her training and the sheer surprise of her attack, the guard never stood much of a chance. Before he’d even pulled his sword free, she knocked him into an unconscious heap.
And then she realized what she’d done. No going back now.
With a look of supreme exasperation, Jarrer vaulted off his horse and engaged the other guard. Bomin half-fell, half-jumped off his horse and ran after their escort.
Her mind Shield firm, Ara stormed into the building, up the stairs, and flung open the ornate double doors.
She sensed a sword arching toward her. Pivoting to meet it, she felt the strike vibrate through her, heard the clang of the metal. But then her arms lost all strength. Slipping from her hand, her blade clanged loudly to the floor. Her voice caught in her throat, “Coen?”
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