03 - Sworn (70 page)

Read 03 - Sworn Online

Authors: Kate Sparkes

Florizel head-butted my back. “Up you get, then. We’ll keep as far out of the fray as we can when things get rough.”

Ulric rode away through the forest.

“Be careful out there,” I told Aren as I climbed onto a fallen tree and from there onto Florizel’s back. “Don’t… I mean…” I twisted my fingers into the coarse hairs of Florizel’s mane and squeezed them tight in frustration. There was so much I wanted to say, but nothing that was appropriate.

And who cares anymore if it’s not?

I nudged Florizel, and she stepped up beside Aren’s horse. I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled myself closer, and kissed him. His lips were frigid. I pulled back. His magic had changed, too. It had always been dark and cold, but now carried something deeper and danker in it.

“What’s happening to you?”

“It will be fine,” he said, and finished what remained of Morea’s potion. “My magic is as strong as it’s ever been.”

“It’s not the strength I’m worried about.”

Morea reached up and took the bottle back from him. “I’ll be following with the other healers, if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” Aren said, but his attention was focused on the bodies. Morea hurried away.

He took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

A chill passed over me, but I nodded. “Ready whenever you are.”

W
E REACHED
the road at the bottom of the hill, where everyone waited in the last shelter of the trees, still hidden from anyone looking out from the city. I spotted Xaven with his people, who marched on foot and bristled with weapons that seemed out of place with their simple armor. Albion had rejoined the people of Belleisle. It was impossible to tell who among them was a Sorcerer and who was not, as they wore the same coppery-colored armor and all rode the horses that had carried them from the island. It made for an impressive show of bodies.
People,
I corrected myself.
We have the bodies behind us
.

Aren halted the corpses at the tree line.

Ulric nodded, and Aren brought them out. He had the least-mangled bodies to the front of the group, but a few of the gorier illusions remained standing near them.

The crowd was silent, save for the sound of a helmet hitting the ground and someone retching. No one else moved, even when Aren directed the bodies onto the road. They bumped each other and shuffled forward, lacking formation or discipline, all displaying their mortal wounds. They looked like any reasonable human’s worst nightmare come halfway to life, a grim reminder of the price of battle.

Armor clanked as several living troops turned and left quietly.
At least they didn’t bother with speeches
, I thought.

“Very well,” Ulric said. “Aren, if you’re ready.”

I rode beside him, and tried to ignore the glares and disgusted looks from some of the troops. They had been raised believing this was wrong. We were probably lucky they hadn’t all bolted.

And they’ll get over it, surely. These bodies are going to keep them from meeting the same fate.

Gods willing.

As we left the cover of the forest and stepped onto the road, I noticed that Aren’s breathing had become shallow. His skin had taken on a grayish cast, and his feet dragged over the ground.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said quietly, his voice rough as the stones beneath the horses’ hooves.

Liar.

Nothing had changed, aside from him. The bodies trudged on as Aren’s shoulders slumped, his face lost its expression, and his eyes filled with pain.

“Aren?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “They’re taking a lot out of me, but my magic is stronger. It’s healing me as quickly as they’re killing me.”

“They’re what?”

He didn’t answer.

The living troops had already covered a good portion of the distance from camp before they met us, but we still had a ways to go before we would reach the city gates. The plain stretched out before us, and the city beyond, locked behind its wall. To our left sat the Despair, which I had no desire to look more closely at. I turned instead to the right, where the plain met the sparkling ocean.

I squinted.

“Aren? Should there be ships out there?”

He turned. “Gods damn it all. No. That will be Severn’s troops coming in. They’ll land in the outer harbour and be on us before we reach the gate.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “What do we do?”

“Keep going and pray for a miracle, if you’re so inclined. If we turn back now, they’ll follow.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll find you later.”

Before he could answer, we were gone. Florizel turned and raced away from the bodies, leaping into the air as soon as she’d picked up enough speed. Ulric and Xaven had obviously seen the ships, and wore grim expressions as their troops pressed on. Behind them, Albion and his people had their attention trained on the ocean.

“To the water,” I called to Florizel, and she turned.

Six ships, all black with white sails, approached the harbour. They were still a good ways out, though the distance closed with every moment that passed. The bodies and our troops might make it to the gate.

Maybe.

I called to my magic, ready to use the ocean’s water to push back against the ships, but hadn’t yet recovered from the illusions. I wouldn’t be able to do more than splash the hulls.

Farther out and to the east, something massive moved under the water. As it approached, it became a collection of lighter flecks just beneath the surface. Florizel stayed well away from the ships as we looped behind them and back toward land. “What is that?” I called, and pointed. She flew closer.

A gray tail breached the surface, and my breath caught in my throat. My people would have mistaken them for hundreds of dolphins.

I knew better.

Ulric had been as wrong about the merfolk as he was about Albion and the people of Belleisle. We were not alone.

“Closer to the ships,” I called, and Florizel obeyed. I’d learned my lesson the last time I’d acted as a distraction, and didn’t order her too close. Still, someone on the ships saw us. A shout sounded from one, and moments later the soldiers had lined up on deck, eyes on us. Arrows flew, and all fell short. We circled back, darting closer and falling back, holding their attention as below us the merfolk passed beneath the ships under the clear ocean waves.

An arrow larger than the others shot past us. “Rowan?” Florizel called over her shoulder. “I think they have magic down there.”

Another arrow came. I nearly tumbled off Florizel’s back as she shied to avoid being hit. “I think you may be right. Fall back.”

A chorus of creaking noises filled the air as the six ships shuddered to a halt and the soldiers on board stumbled. Though the wind still filled their sails, the ships sat dead in the water. Ominous clunking noises rose from beneath the waves. Someone called out an order, and soldiers beneath us headed below decks.

I wouldn’t be any more help there. I patted Florizel’s neck, and we flew back toward land.

The battle was about to begin.

The bodies approached the city, and arrows rained down on them. Severn’s soldiers in their red and silver armor held their positions atop the wall and below it, where they waited on the outside with the gates locked tight behind them. There seemed to be hundreds of them.

At least they’re not at the palace,
I thought, but my stomach turned at the idea of our people fighting them.

My illusions had held up while I was gone, but seemed to be less robust than I’d have liked. I opened myself to the magic in the land, willed it to fill me, and waited.

Nothing happened. Aren had said that his was coming back to restore him, but mine still refused. I had overcome my own limitations, but it seemed I was still no match for whatever damage my own people had done to me in prison.

I let go of my focus on the illusions. They’d have to be enough as they were.
If I lost all of my magic now—

An arrow shot past us. “A little higher,” I called, but Florizel was already climbing.

“What now?” she called back.

“I don’t know.”

We circled over our people. The arrows from the wall stopped as the soldiers below marched forward. The bodies fell before them. Though Aren had kept them moving in spite of the arrows that protruded from their eyes, their faces, and their bodies, they couldn’t stand against swordsmen hacking at their legs and torsos. As they collapsed, so did the illusions that matched them, multiplying the effectiveness of every successful enemy attack.

I searched the crowd for Aren. He wasn’t retreating as the bodies fell. Rather, he held his horse still and focused on the soldiers that approached him. Though he held a sword in his hand, he didn’t raise it. He just sat like a statue.

I held back a scream as a red-clad soldier raised an ax to strike at him.

The soldier stopped, then turned. He roared, and rushed back at another of Severn’s men, striking him in the side of his head and dropping him to the ground. Another joined him in turning against his fellow soldiers, and another, creating a knot of confusion.

I breathed again.

Behind Aren, the rest of the troops joined the battle. The noise of it was horrible, all clashing metal and grunts and cries and bellowed orders. Florizel shivered beneath me, and we looped away from the city, toward where the Sorcerers from Belleisle charged into battle, working whatever magic they possessed as they went.

My arrows would be useless now, unless I wanted to risk injuring the wrong people. I hugged my left leg to Florizel’s side, and she turned. We flew high over the wall.

Beyond it, the city had erupted into chaos. Whatever plans Severn and his people may have had for an orderly battle had been thrown out. While the area directly behind the wall was still clear of anyone aside from soldiers, the streets to the east teemed with people in fine clothing, all of them running as fast as they could, many of them yelling or crying, clutching prized possessions to their chests.

“Looks like Ruby got in,” Florizel observed, and flew harder toward the area everyone else was fleeing.

We passed over streets and intersections, over tall buildings and tiny shops and an open marketplace where people cowered in their covered stalls. Fine homes with tiny green yards appeared beneath us, well-kept and beautiful… at least, the ones that weren’t on fire.

The streets teemed with people who had not yet escaped, and with soldiers rushing in from the north and south.

A flash of red caught my eye. Ruby roared, and every hair on my body stood on end at the fearsome sound. Florizel alighted on a flat roof to catch her breath, and we watched as Ruby pinned a soldier to the ground, one long claw puncturing the armor that covered his chest. Another soldier drove a lance into her side, catching the soft flesh behind a foreleg. Blood poured out, darker red than her scales, flooding the cobblestone street beneath her. She turned and snapped, taking her attacker’s head off in a neat bite.

Florizel let out a shuddering whinny. “We have to help her!”

“We can’t,” I told her. “And this is what she wanted.” The great dragon swallowed half of a smaller soldier and roared again. “Head for the gates, and keep your eyes open. Watch for Griselda.”

We flew over the streets, and I watched for a flash of gold hair among the rich fabrics and done-up hairstyles, but saw no sign of Griselda. If she had made it away from the east end, she was either at the gate or staying hidden.

Florizel pulled up as we approached the gates. A dark-hooded figure crept along the inside of the wall, sticking to the shadows, head down.

“Go back! I think I saw her.”

A moment later we’d landed on top of a building with a gently-sloping roof across the street from the triple gates. Florizel’s hooves scrambled over the copper roof, and I dismounted before she pushed off into the air. I pulled an arrow from my quiver, nocked it to the bow, and crouched.

Griselda was nearly invisible in the shadows, but a gate guard spotted her as she passed. I couldn’t hear him over the noise from the other side of the wall, but she didn’t respond to whatever he yelled at her. He drew his sword, and she moved farther away.

I released my arrow. He moved at the last moment, and it only caught him in the arm. The next shot was luckier, and he went down as he tried to pull the shaft from his throat. Griselda didn’t look up, but kept on toward the gate. I covered her until she’d reached the now-empty stall next to the small pedestrian gate to the left. My magic held steady, though I felt it helping me make my shots.

Promising. A little more recovery would be lovely, though.

The heavy wood behind the gates swung slowly inward, leaving the ornate iron gates closed. A series of locking mechanisms moved, slipping vertically and horizontally in a complex pattern on the rear of the gates, changing the design as they unlocked.

Without Griselda’s knowledge, we’d never have opened them. I imagined her smile as she remembered the tricks of the process, as the gates released and our soldiers on the other side pushed them open and flooded the street.

Florizel landed for long enough for me to mount again, and we took off.

Xaven’s people and Albion’s pushed through the crowds of soldiers and freshly-gathered nobles that met them inside. I couldn’t see Aren, Ulric, or anyone I recognized. They had dismounted, and blended in with everyone else.

An arrow whizzed by Florizel’s head, and I decided we should take to the streets, as well. She landed, narrowly missing an older woman who looked like she’d been in the middle of having her hair styled when Ruby attacked. Half of her silver hair twisted up into a horn on one side of her head, while the other flowed in stiff waves over her shoulder. She darted away.

“Are you staying here?” Florizel asked as I slid to the ground.

“I should find Aren. Why?”

“Did you hear the horses screaming back near the big buildings? I have to go there. ”

I hadn’t. I looked in the direction she’d indicated with a nod of her head, and saw what had to be the palace towering over the buildings in front of it. “Do you need me to come?”

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