Lila
I clung to Jared, horrified at the inferno in the courtyard. In the space of half an hour, it had changed beyond recognition
Soldiers, servants, and slaves milled round, trying to catch horses, while various Saxons barked orders and yelled for water. All three stable blocks burned fiercely, but the central bonfire was the real danger. The wind threw sparks and flames everywhere, smoke swirling as though it had a mind of its own. The heat it threw off made me feel scorched from the other side of the yard. Jared released his hold on me and caught my hand instead, meshing our fingers, before we ran full pelt after Kai. She sprinted round the edge, darting around the men and women with buckets and bowls of water, and headed into the entrance of the main hall.
We followed, gasping for breath and coughing. Jared led me down deserted corridors to a narrow set of stairs, and we descended to a dark, heavy wooden door. Kai inched it open and peered inside. “He’s gone.” I sagged. We needed Bran’s
ghardians
if we were to have any chance of saving Marc.
The scene replayed in my head on a continuous loop. Marc standing defiant, yelling to me. Marc taking a blow from a sword and slumping to his knees. Three Saxon warriors converging on him. I rubbed my eyes and tried to concentrate. “Where else might he be? We’ll split up.” I tried to remember what Marc had told me about their mission. Bran could be anywhere. Despair welled inside me, and I shoved it away with an effort.
I turned to the child slave, struggling to speak. “Where should we look?”
“We’re not splitting up.” Jared squeezed my fingers. “You don’t know your way around, and I have no intention of losing you.” He spoke fiercely, the command absolute, and something tight inside me relaxed a fraction. “Do you have any idea what their mission was, Lila?”
I glanced at Kai. She in turn gazed at Jared with an expression of utter reverence. She adored him, I realized.
“They were planning to overthrow Widreth in the aftermath of the solstice feast.” I thought about the scenes outside. “They might have to change their plans a little.”
“Let’s try the barracks.” Jared led me through a maze of corridors, his hand tightly meshed with mine. A cluster of slaves ran past, paying us no attention. Ahead of us, watching through a window, stood a servant in brown jerkin and breeches, Bran’s colors displayed on his sleeve.
“
Hai
,” called Jared. “We’re looking for your master.”
The servant turned sharply at Jared’s voice and stared, his eyes raking over me, a huge smile breaking out over a once familiar face.
“Flavius?” Jared clasped his arm, and then pulled him into a rough hug. “I thought you were dead.”
“Same, my friend.” He turned to me, took my hand and dropped a polite kiss there. “Mistress Lila. It is good to see you both.” He paused and frowned, looking back at Jared. “You wear the Averni colors, but I haven’t seen you this past month.”
Jared ignored the unspoken question. “We need to find Bran. It’s most urgent. Do you know where he is?”
Flavius grinned. “Come with me.”
Jared
Jared turned to Flavius as they hurried down the corridor. “You’re a servant for Bran of the Averni? How did that happen?”
Dark eyes regarded him with a hint of amusement. “I’m not. But it’s easier for a servant to move around freely and collect information.”
Jared nodded. A whimper behind him made him stop and look over his shoulder. Lila stood there, clutching the window for support, swaying slightly as though she would faint. Her gaze was fixed on the courtyard outside.
“Dear God,” she whispered. “There’s Marc.” Before Jared could say or do anything, she stumbled back toward the crowded courtyard. He heard Flavius swear softly and Kai gasp. Jared’s gaze was drawn to the window, to the image outside. The
ghardian’s
body, bound by the wrists, was being dragged behind a Saxon horse.
“Get Bran,” he snarled to his friend. “Lila,” he shouted, not expecting her to stop. She didn’t.
“That man is one of yours. One of Bran’s soldiers. Tell him the Saxons are holding Marc—and hurry.” Jared took off after Lila.
For some reason she was limping, and he caught up easily. He grabbed her elbow and spun her around to face him. “
Stop
. You cannot help him.” She struggled, but he refused to let go. “Lila, listen to me. We have to be smart. Charging into the courtyard won’t do a damn thing except put you in danger too.” Her chest heaved, and tears trickled down her cheeks. She stared at him, mute. He softened his grip, cupped her neck, and held her close until the trembling eased a fraction. “Flavius will fetch Bran. He’s our best hope.”
“I know.” Her voice was muffled. “But I can’t stay here; we have to know what they’re doing to him.”
They stood in the shadows of the hall, watching as Marc was tossed onto the flagged surface of the courtyard to the ribald cheers and shouts from Widreth’s warriors. Jared saw Marc’s fingers flexing, clawing at the stones.
Still alive.
He held Lila to prevent her from giving their position away and took a moment to search the massing crowd for Bran or any of his
ghardians
. Not there.
“Rowena,” whispered Lila. The central bonfire backlit the tableau: the warlord and Rowena standing together; the Saxon warriors and servants in a rough semi-circle; Marc lying center stage. Jared and Lila stood slightly behind Widreth and could see everything. Jared tightened his arm around Lila and felt her nails digging into his sleeve.
Crazy shadows flickered and leaped over the assembled people, their faces glowing orange and red. The horses were quiet again, and the only noise came from the raging fires. The first stable block had collapsed in on itself, the second and third were out of control and, by the looks of things, Widreth had abandoned the efforts to save them.
The warlord took a step forward and glared down at Marc. One booted foot swung back and then collided with the
ghardian’s
face. Lila shuddered in Jared’s arms, but stayed silent. Widreth beckoned to a warrior. “Tarek,” he boomed out, “is this the man you saw firing my stables?”
“Yes, sire.” The warrior spat at Marc’s face. “He wears the colors of your ally, but he is an enemy. I saw him leave, and gave chase.” His triumphant shout drew cheers from the gathered ranks.
Jared bit back a groan. That someone had seen him was bad enough. For them to assume it had been Marc—and then to catch him trying to leave—was such appallingly bad luck. Where the hell was Bran?
Rowena picked her way across the stone flags to peer down at the
ghardian,
and Jared’s spine prickled at the sight of her. “This is the spy that escaped,” she crowed, triumphant. She pulled off Marc’s helmet and curled her fingers into his hair to raise his head. “My Lord,” she cried, “this is the impostor I locked up.” The crowd began muttering, restless and excited. Rowena let go and Marc’s head dropped back. “Do you have anything to say?” Her screech cut through Jared.
Marc stirred and lifted his head a fraction. “Fuck you.”
Lila’s breath rattled in and out of her lungs. Jared wished she were anywhere but here. Seeing what he feared came next would surely tear her apart. Even before Widreth spoke, Jared knew what he would say.
“My people, our goddess
Frige
has delivered our
Blót
. It seems fitting that he should burn on the pyre that he set.”
Cheers rang out. Widreth paused to speak to a servant that ran up to him. The evil smile that broke across the warlord’s face made Jared even more worried. Widreth held up his hand for silence.
“Not just one traitor, but his master, too.” His arm swept to the side, out of Jared’s view. Lila tensed ever farther, her body rigid.
It was Bran. Commander Fleur, bound hand and foot, landed in a bloody heap before the warlord.
Lila
If it hadn’t been for Jared restraining me, I might have given us away. “Stay,” he murmured in my ear. “The
ghardians
won’t give up without a fight.”
Maybe, but Marc and Bran were going to be thrown into the giant bonfire any minute now. The cheers turned to roars and war cries, as Widreth gave the order to round up all the Averni. Jared wore Bran’s colors. I fumbled for my dagger and cut away the brightly colored braids from his tunic.
“Do you know the jump coordinates, Lila?”
I stared at him, momentarily speechless. The rabble continued to chant, rising in tone and volume.
“Lila?”
“Yes, but I told you, I’m not—”
He cupped my face with both hands. The leather gloves felt cool against my skin. “Do. You. Know. Them?”
“Yes.”
His thumbs brushed my cheeks. “Go back. Don’t wait for me.”
He was deadly serious. I dug my fingers into his sleeves. “We go back together or not at all.”
His lips brushed across mine. “I heard some of the
ghardians
talking about a detonation. Have they been laying explosives somewhere?”
“Yes, in the hall.”
He nodded. His eyes searched my face as though trying to commit me to memory. “This might be incredibly stupid but it might work. Find one of the
ghardians
. You need to set off the explosives. I’m going to try and distract them, to buy you some more time.”
Another too-brief, tender kiss. “I love you, Lila. Now go and find a
ghardian
.” He took a step back and then melted into the shadows.
Jared
Jared hid in the shadows and worked his way around to the track again, confident nobody would see him. The mob was riveted by the warlord taunting his prisoners. If Lila couldn’t find a
ghardian
, couldn’t set off the detonation, if he were captured…there were too many ifs.
The pony was where they’d left it. Within seconds, Jared galloped the short distance, burst back into the courtyard and sent the gathered Saxons scattering out of the way of the flying hooves. He aimed the half-wild beast directly at the warlord, swerving at the last second and leaning over to grab Rowena. He had the element of surprise. She was stunned for a second, but quickly began struggling, kicking, and screaming. Jared laid her face down and drove the sturdy pony back up to the track. Saxons yelled and roared behind him. Their horses were not at hand, but he had a couple of minutes lead, no more.
He prayed to God it gave Lila enough time.
As they charged up the track, Rowena wriggled and twisted so violently, Jared thought she’d tumble off headfirst. When he saw a break in the hedge line, he hauled the pony to a stop and vaulted off, dragging Rowena with him. He gave the pony a hard smack on the flanks. It needed no further encouragement and galloped away. Jared clamped one hand over the woman’s mouth and caught her flailing wrists in the other. He pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to slit your throat. If you want to live, keep quiet.”
She went absolutely still. “
Wolf
? Is that you? Have you lost your mind?”
“
Quiet
.” He forced her to the ground, face down, then kneeled on her legs and reached for his dagger. In the silence of the night, her robes made a crisp noise as he sliced through them. Rowena whimpered, a harsh sob escaping.
“Please don’t hurt me.” Her voice wavered. “My husband will pay you for my safe return.
Please don’t rape me
.” He ignored her sobbing and used a long strip of her robe to fasten her ankles together, and then another to tie her wrists behind her back. Finally, he made a gag, which reduced her noise to muffled grunts. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last woman on earth.”
Sitting back on the cold ground, he stared at her. Funny how her attitude changed when she was no longer in charge. His palms stung at the memory of her cruelty, and he sucked in a calming breath.
Lila. Think of Lila.
He picked up Rowena and dumped her in the ditch beside the hedge, but tripped over something as he went. He looked and discovered two dead Saxon warriors, their bodies still warm and sticky with blood. They’d keep Rowena warm. With a satisfied smile he dragged the two corpses over the woman’s wriggling body and left her screeching behind the gag.
Lila
I ran to where I’d last seen Flavius. Find a
ghardian,
he’d said. Oh God, now I had another movie playing in my head. Images of Marc, Jared, and Bran all swirled before me, and I panicked, charged blindly along and got lost. There was no sign of Flavius. I stopped to catch my breath and try and get my bearings. A hand closed over my mouth, a hard body pressing up against me. I struggled until a man spoke quietly in my ear, in my native tongue. “Please be quiet. You are in great danger.”
A
ghardian
.
I nodded wildly and spun to face him as soon as he released me. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Ash. I need you to stay close as we regroup.”
“You’ve planted explosives in the hall.” His face gave nothing away, but I forged on. “My friend, Wolf, is arranging a distraction. If you set them off, it might give you enough cover to free Lieutenant Gallagher and the Commander.”
He rubbed his chin, fuzzy with dark stubble. Shrewd grey eyes assessed me. “What kind of distraction?”
“I don’t know.”
The silence that hung between us was interrupted by another
ghardian
. “Sir, there’s a disturbance in the courtyard. A lone rider galloped in and snatched the warlord’s wife. They’re in uproar.”
“I’d say that was a good distraction.” Grey eyes flicked back to me, and I saw a brief smile on his taut face. “Twenty-second countdown, on my mark. Call in as you get clear,” he muttered into a silver band on his sleeve—a disguised communicator.
I glanced up and down the corridor. “Where did Flavius go? He had a child with him.”