There was something both strange and chilling to be back in Renmere. The high stone walls, bare of most decorations, were cold in a way she had never expected before, compared to the stripped leather canvas of the Ontari tents. All the sights, the smells and textures that had been familiar throughout her life were fresh, raw and disconcerting. Emily straightened her jerkin over her breaches and set her shoulders back. She was still adjusting, the Skyrider told herself and it was always unnerving to visit the Palace. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was delivering the best news. She drew a breath and turned around. It had been a busy few days. Leaving Emanys, leaving Aramane and flying across Renmere back to the capital. She let out the breath in her lungs and tucked a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear once more. Emily shifted her weight and turned, pacing through the small, bare antechamber.

As a Skyrider, it wasn’t impossible to request an audience with the King, but it was usual. Her hands drifted to her waist and the missing sword belt. When had she last slept? She ran her hand under her eyes, blinking away the threat of sleep. Weary, that was a word for it. Adrenaline still fizzed through her body, giving her heart uncomfortable jolts as she tried to steady herself. How could she be so nervous and excited at the same time? Was Elyna right? Did the King mean her harm? The skyrider turned as one of the side doors opened.

‘Ben?’ She greeted the man with a smile, approaching, ‘is His Majesty available? I have news…I found her. She’s alive, the babies are well.’ Emily had moved close enough to watch the face of the King’s brother, scouring it for any sign of malice. Was he pleased, relieved? Or was he worried? Was he involved in a plot to find Malcolm a more suitable wife?

From her brief liaison with the man, Emily didn’t think he’d be the type. But then, she hadn’t expected Jared of Warrick would either. Elyna wasn’t an idiot, and she wasn’t a liar. If she said Jared was the one who had forced her and the babies to risk their lives, and dumped them into the wilderness with Yvan Yilmaz, then that was what had happened.

Emily tucked her hair back again, how was she going to do this? Four lives, including her own depended on her getting this right. What if she was wrong?

The man snatched Emily’s wrist and pulled her in. Had he heard her right? “Your majesty!” He shouted, his voice not as deep as Ben’s though his features looked near identical. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde and his eyes a shallow pool of blue compared to the richness of the pair Emily knew.

A clatter of iron announced the arrival of the king, though he too was not the man Emily was expecting. His eyes were sharp, piercing to look at, as blue as blue could be. His hair was jet black in tone and his skin so fair it looked as if he had been born to snow and raised as such, a stranger to the suns of Noar.

“Noah?” He addressed the man holding Emily. The king looked the woman up and down, only sure that she was a stranger to him.

“She mistook me for my father,” Noah said. “I believe she knows the whereabouts of Elyna Burhan. She said that she had found her and that the babies were well.”

Emily studied the man that held her captive. Mistaken for his father? She thought—but how could that be? This man looked Ben’s age, if not older. She tried to twist her arm free and he jerked her into an armlock that made her shoulder burn with pain.

“Babies…” the king echoed. “They have children? Plural?” The king stared at Emily, puzzled for a moment, then angry, visibly so. “Take her to the dungeons and have her questioned.”

Noah looked a little pale at the suggestion. What if he had been wrong? What if he had misheard this stranger? Questioned. He knew that meant tortured. “Forgive me, your majesty, but perhaps you only need ask her yourself?”

The king pinned his personal guard with a look of disdain. He took a breath and his shoulders shrunk into a more relaxed state. “Very well—what news do you bring of Elyna Burhan, Skyrider?”

Emily tried to shake off her initial shock, and struggled. Though she made no move to leave, she stared between the two. What was going on? Noah? Almost the twin to his Father Ben, but Emily had encountered Noah before, hadn’t she? She squinted at the young man. Noah had been a boy in Frost, not three years past. Or was it two? A boy not yet in double digits, this was a man. Her shock extended to the man proclaimed King. The Skyrider steadied her balance and forced herself to breathe. This was not a time to panic.

Although she realized that it probably wasn’t in Elyna’s best interest to reveal all to the man before her. ‘I have been searching for Elyna for the last two seasons,’ Emily replied calmly. She tried to ease her arm free from Noah. She was a Skyrider, a member of the Iron Hand. The woman also knew the implication of being taken to the dungeon for questioning. From there, there would be little escape and little way to warn Elyna.

‘Your Majesty,’ Emily attempted a bow, finally releasing her arm from Noah as he permitted the politeness due a King. ‘Forgive me, but I was sent by Malcolm Krome. Should he not be the first to hear news of his Wife?’ Tread carefully Emily, tread carefully. She needed information, but couldn’t afford to offend a man who could have her beheaded in seconds and had already threatened to have her detained. ‘Sir Noah,’ Emily glanced at the young man then, swallowing hard, ‘I have been a friend of your Fathers… perhaps if Malcolm is not available, Benjamin may be?’

The king scoffed. “See, useless,” he said.

Noah’s brow softened at the mention of his father, but his features took on a stern look again as the king addressed him.

“Take her, there is no time to waste. I will not dance about the truth like some moon worshiper.”

As the king turned to exit the room, a young child appeared through the doors. He was a wisp of a boy with a mop of brown hair and soft, large hazel coloured eyes.

“Vaughn, return to your studies,” the king said.

“No!” The boy stomped his right foot, his soft leather slipper scarcely making a sound against the stone floor. “You’re not the boss of me!”

“I’m the king, brother-mine. I’m the boss of everyone.”

“Well you’re not the boss of me, Marcus!” Vaughn persisted. “I want to know what happened to Lady Burhan!”

Marcus rolled his eyes. It seemed the little prince hadn’t grown out of eavesdropping. “This Skyrider won’t tell us,” the king said.

Noah had taken hold of Emily again, ready to escort her to the dungeons. Vaughn crossed the room, his hands behind his back, his chin held high, an attempt to appear far older than he was. “Excuse me,” he addressed Emily directly. “Is Lady Burhan all right?”

Marcus grabbed Vaughn by the collar of his cloak and pulled him back. The boy stumbled against his older brother and turned to lay into him, balling his fists as they flew at the man’s belly. The king wrestled the young boy into submission and threw him over his shoulder before leaving the room. “I want answers by dawn,” he called back to Noah.

The heavy iron doors were pulled closed behind him by a pair of guards.

Emily could only stare at the younger prince. Now he was the age she expected he should be. The woman moved to answer his question, only to find herself held once more. She hadn’t even noticed the heavy hand on her shoulder. Marcus however, nor Noah were not the children they should be. Her heart had slowed with panic and she was pulled back by the tall man. Twisting in his grip she walked beside him without trying to flee.

‘You are not the boy I would expect of your years,’ Emily looked up at the Man. ‘I saw you at the Frost ball, with your Mother,’ Emily tried to pause her steps then, ‘you understand, that I feel the King might wish Lady Elyna harm?’ Noah appeared impassive as he marched her forward through the ante-chamber, so she spoke as quickly as she could, ‘I see you would betray Marcus, no sooner than I could ever betray Elyna. But can you live with the harm of babies upon your head?’

‘Noah…it is clear that I have missed much, please…’ She reached out to grip the door-frame, curling her hand around the wood. ‘What has happened here? Where is your Father? Where is Malcolm?’

Noah did well to keep his features free of emotion, though the woman’s question saw an idea spring to mind he knew would allow him to sleep that night. He led Emily down to the cells and motioned to the guard to unlock an empty chamber, positioned across from a second that imprisoned a number of familiar faces, his father’s included.

The iron door of bars clanged shut behind her and Noah left without a word, even under heavy protest from his father. “Your cousin has robbed you, my son! You deserve to lead your own life! To follow your own path!”

The guard turned and slammed his batten into the cell wall, forcing Benjamin to step back. “That’s enough from you!” He yelled at the knight and hung about a moment before doing a round of the cell blocks.

Benjamin had been so preoccupied with the appearance of his son that he had not straight away recognised Emily. When he did, he gripped the bars and stepped closer, looking across the hall into her cell. “Em!”

Ben twisted about to inform the others, only to realise Malcolm was asleep. He sat with his back to the wall, his dark hair shaggy and unkempt, hung in front of his face like a tattered curtain. His hand sat buried in a mane of gold that belonged to Jared Warrick, who lay on the floor curled up on his side with his head on Malcolm’s lap.

The place smelt of stale piss, blood and vomit, an assault on the senses. Benjamin’s cell was dark with no outer wall, but Emily’s had a little natural light that streamed through a small window too high to peer out of unless she stood on the wooden bench against the wall.

“But if you’re here… then…”

Emily pushed back against the shove, if only to walk into the cell under her own volition. She would not be thrown around like a rag doll. She twisted, turning to watch the door clang shut with a look of cold indifference. Her gaze lifting the the man who stood across from her. She managed to stay still, impassive until the moment the guard left and Noah was long moving up the stairs.

“Ben!” There was no power in Noar that could have stopped the woman from rushing to the bars. Then, pressed against the cold iron she stretched out her hand, as though she could bridge the gap between them. ‘Ben, what’s going on?’ She peered past him, swallowed her shock at the sight of Malcolm and Jared and met the gaze of her once-lover. The metal was rough beneath her palm, the smell made her nose itch and her eyes sting.

‘I’m here because I found her…they’re safe.’ Emily shot a wary look to the door and the guards, it wouldn’t be long before Marcus would want his information. Emily wanted to close her eyes, to take a moment but forced herself to watch Benjamin. Even with the world turned upside down, would he have wanted Elyna and her children dead? Jared certainly looked close to Malcolm but…but that was to be expected with them here, trapped like animals behind bars.

Benjamin reached through the bars, but even with the metal pinched against his ribs, there was still three feet between them. “Thank the seven,” he said, eyes glossy with tears. “We’ve been so worried… and so hopeful, despite the circumstances.”

He looked back as if to follow Emily’s gaze, his own fixed then on the pair against the far wall. “Jared is sick,” Benjamin frowned, turning his gaze on Emily once more. “They only feed us scraps of old bread down here and it makes him sick for all the pain it gives him. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m just glad he’s sleeping now… he’s been groaning and throwing up all night after finally giving in and eating something for the first time in ten days… It’s the same any time he succumbs to hunger. These bastards won’t do anything about it!”

The place fell silent as the guard returned. He looked Emily up and down and grinned a toothless smile. The handful of teeth he still had were black with rot. His eyes were a misted grey, not much darker than his ratty, balding hairline. He wasn’t very tall, about five two, but he was stocky for an old goat. “You’re a pretty one,” he said. “Let old Lance have a better look at you.”

“Guard!” Someone called down the way and the old man spat.

“What is it now!” He limped off in a hurry, a large ring of keys chimed from the right hip of his belt.

“Get up on that seat,” Ben pointed, “tell me what you see beyond that window?”

The sun was already starting to set, with only six hours of daylight in Frost, it was easily spent. There were many guards posted on the city walls, far more than usual, but it was what lay beyond the city that really seemed out of place. As far as the eye could see, a sea of red and gold tents littered the countryside in uniformed order, with men and women hard at work, erecting crude barricades and temptory watchtowers. The snow was tainted with deep tracks of wet mud, the campsites littered with small fires, the air thick with smoke.

Emily took in Ben’s expression and felt some of her own burden lift. How could she believe he would want to harm Elyna? Let alone two innocent children. ‘Ben…’ the woman paused as he explained poor Jared’s plight. Her hand dropped to the small bag at her hip and she paused. They hadn’t stripped her of her bag, not yet. She smoothed her fingers over the strap before reaching back to the bars, unable to close the gap.
‘Ben,’ perhaps it was best to take advantage of the fact Jared wasn’t listening, ‘it was Jared…I don’t understand it, but it was Jared that took Elyna. I don’t understand this madness,’ she gestured to the cells and the door where Noah had departed, ‘but did he betray you? Could he have?’ She whispered.
The guards' steps saw her retreat into the cell, out of reach. She tilted her head to one side, gaze drifting to the man’s belt as he departed. Her lip drew back in a sneer. Perhaps she would allow him a closer look. With Lance out of sight once more, the woman turned and stepped obediently onto the bench. She curled her hands around the window bars, half-climbing up the wall to peer through, having never been blessed with even the height of her petite friend. Emily scanned the tents, and lowered herself. Returning to the bars, she relayed her information.
‘I have some dried beef strips…how soon could they move?’ She murmured, gesturing to Malcolm and Jared, ‘if I were to get the keys?’ Her gaze drifted to the shadows where Lance had vanished.

Ben took the offered meat and tucked it away in his shirt. It took all of his willpower not to tear into it right then and there. The smell alone was fuel, even if it made his stomach churn with hunger. He peered at the pair on the floor and shook his head. “They’ve tortured Malcolm half to death, even had one of his teeth out… pulled the nail from every finger and toe… the poor sod. He hasn’t told them about the twins… wouldn’t give up a thing. Emily… Yvan was behind it all. He had a shapeshifter with him, we found Jared tied up in his room. There’s no way he had a hand in this. It was all Yilmaz.”

The knight pointed to a small strap that disappeared into Emily’s boot. He straightened, “they didn’t strip you? Do you still have a knife?” Ben frowned. They were boys playing a man’s game. “Youth bows to wisdom once more. Can you take Lance without it? We need something in here… a backup plan. Come Bloom Warrick will be sure to storm the gates, we will have to be ready to fight our way out.” He held his hand over the dried meat beneath his shirt, they would have to ration it to keep Jared healthy, at least until then. If they lost him, they would lose the war before it began.

“Owen, Thomas and Edmund have sided with Marcus. It seems whatever was in that letter is worth dying for… Seven knows the king is not afraid of taking heads. I don’t know what his grandfather taught him, but these are dark times. You have to get back to Elyna… You have to make sure she stays as far away from here as possible. Emily… even Aramane is not safe, they are looking for her there, Edmund and his crew. We don’t know who else they have turned.”

Emily found herself looking at the ground. Dark and dank between the cells, it glistened. Wet with human waste. So she had been right about Malcolm, and about Jared. ‘I fear I have betrayed the twins,’ the woman admitted, ‘I thought I was talking to you, I told Noah that the babies were well.’ Emily let out a long sigh then, shuddering to think what the three of them had been through. ‘Ely…’ the woman couldn’t help but look up at Malcolm then curled up at the back of the cell. He looked so pitiful, worn and broken. He didn’t deserve her news. ‘She believes it was Jared,’ Emily pressed her teeth against her bottom lip, ‘and she knows that he would never betray Malcolm…they won’t find her, not unless I send word.’ She let Ben reach his own conclusions to how Elyna considered her husband in those moments. Her gaze dropped once more.
‘I can’t get back to Elyna…not fast enough,’ Emily found herself looking back to the light, as though it would share some hope. The limping, shuddering steps of Lance seemed furthest away and she knelt, pulling the knife from her boot. She slid it across the floor at Benjamin, watching with satisfaction as it skid between a pair of bars. The dirt beneath cushioning the sound that a metal blade on stone would have otherwise made.
‘If Edmund is with Marcus, then so must be Caelen…’ she closed her eyes, ‘thank the Seven…’ Whatever she would of said then, Emily silenced. Only a fool would betray Elyna’s location.
‘I don’t understand why Owen would betray his brother,’ Emily said eventually. Watching as Lance slowly shuffled back in her direction, ‘Ben…if I get the keys…can’t you run now? Can’t we get them out of here?’

It hurt his very soul to hear it and his heart broke anew for the man at his back. “No,” Ben said, shaking his head, the sound pitiful and low. “No, he would never, Malcolm would never…” He loves her, Ben wanted to say, but instead said, “he would die for Elyna and those babies—their babies.”

Ben picked up the knife and spat at the name that crossed Emily’s lips. Burhan could rot, he thought. “A small part of me hoped there would be blue tents alongside the red out there… in the night they chant so loudly for Jarred. I think it’s given us all a little hope,” but even that was fading, he knew.

“Krome has no choice but to support the king. Andaris and Venora have always been snakes… and the rest—well you know how they refuse to get their hands dirty. If Warrick is flanked come Bloom… it’s over. They killed one of his daughters, Em… the other is still in hiding but I know they won’t rest. It will be the same for Elyna if they catch her. If they find Lazuli… He’s a broken man… He will be a man with nothing to live for.”

Ben looked back at Jared. “I don’t think he has the strength to get out of here. They won’t know who to look for if you go. If we go, every man, woman and child will stand in our way.”

The uneven tread of the gaoler advanced and Emily was forced to halt her words, head bowed against the bars. The steps paused and faded again and she looked up at the man across from view. She offered him a small smile.
‘Even believing what she does…Elyna wants to come back. Ben, some part of her must hope that it’s not true…otherwise she’s a woman choosing death for herself and her children…so there has to be hope.’ Emily swallowed then, how could Elyna’s life be so complicated?
‘Let him have hope?’ Her gaze drifted to the King regent. ‘It looks like they both need it.’
She edged back in the shadows then, pressed to the wall as predictably Lance returned.
‘Are you going to come closer then?’ He curled a withered hand around a bar.
Emily twisted in the fading light, letting the rays fall on her pale hair, her unblemished skin. Her fingers lingered on the tie of her jerkin as he looked her over with a long and lecherous glance.
‘What manner of girl are you?’ He sneered, ‘to be thrown in cells and wearing breaches?’ He scoffed.
‘One who should know better,’ she replied, voice soft. Meek, in mimic of the high born ladies she spent so much time with.
‘Come closer then…’ he beckoned with a finger and Emily shrank further back as the last rays started fading.
‘I’m too afraid,’ she whimpered and slid her bag behind her back, ‘of those fierce men behind you.’
Lance laughed, it was chuckling that he jangled the keys and let himself into the cell. ‘Don’t worry, pretty…I’ll make sure you forget all about those bastards behind me…’
He crossed the dirty floor and as the cell was pitched into darkness, realized his error. He landed, dead, silent with a thump on the floor.
With trembling hands Emily stripped the man, she pushed her bag without second thought through the bars into Ben’s hands. Along with the key to his cell, carefully peeled from the bunch, that was then tossed onto the lifeless man behind her. Her satchel, her usual kit bag held medicine, herbs, bandages, a flask of brandy and skein of water, along with whatever crumbs of rations had been left behind after her travels. Lance’s sword she stole and attached to her belt. As her eyes adjusted to the star light, Emily met Ben’s gaze and offered him a roguish wink before slipping away into the shadows and up the stairs.
‘Let them have hope…’
The door creaked behind her.


1st Bloom AOK 23
It had come as a plan, near fully formed one night. After Kyanite had made his proposal, Elyna’s time with the Ontari had darkened. She had felt the change within herself, even if it was hard to admit. Her laughter faded quickly until it wasn’t heard at all. Her smile fell, failing to reach her eyes before it too became rare, and unseen for days. The Skyrider withdrew within herself, and pulled her children closer. They spent less time with Cora as she struggled with the choice that must be made.
Elyna knew that she could not stay in Emanys. She suspected that returning to Renmere would mark her death. It was something the woman could make her peace with. But what of her children? It was a question that sat heavy upon her. As ever, she performed her duties, and did them well. Ridian healed towards the end of the season, and as promised, Elyna taught Kyanite to fly.
What of her children? It was cruel to seal their fate with death. To take them, unwelcome, to their King and Father. How could they go…how could they stay? Elyna knew she could not leave them. The thought was a constant thorn, a splinter in her heart that numbed the woman. She retreated from the pain by hiding within herself. No answer to be had.
Until one night, in the long stretches of soundless darkness, the answer arrived. Emily. Emily had returned the burdens of nobility to her, now Emily could help resolve them.
The tribe had moved closer to the shore then it had been all season. Kyan had agreed to her release, agreed to her plan. Emily would return and let her know if all was safe. Elyna would trust her life, and those of her children to her friend and unfailing ally.
It hadn’t been long until the message that had returned from Emily shocked the woman to her core. Elyna had stood at the edge of the grasslands, Liam, sweating even the depth of Frost had stood on the shore, daring venture no further to the long grasses.
‘This is Emily’s letter?’ Elyna turned back to the man. ‘This is the truth?’ The roll of parchment hung listless from her hand.
‘Yes M’lady…well…’ he scratched the back of his neck, nervous. As though he felt a thousand eyes from the grasses looking out at him. ‘I-I don’t know what she put in her letter. But Marcus is King, the Regent and Ben…I don’t know what happened to them. But Warrick is gearing for War. Is how ‘Em found me, in the tents outside the city. Most of us Skyriders are…’
She drew a breath of icy air. There had been a sense, all season that she had to return. A pull back to Renmere, even if she no longer associated such with her husband.
The woman took the time to scan the letter again, slowly. Although the contents were no easier to digest.
‘What um,’ Liam, tall and broad and handsome as he was, seemed to squeak as the brawny blonde savage stepped silently from the grasses to stand beside Elyna Burhan, who didn’t so much as blink in surprise. ‘What is your plan, M’Lady?’ Behind him the tide roared against the shore.
——
Elyna looked across at the Tribesman beside her again. He looked strange in a mixture of clothing from Renmere and Emanys. It will be colder. She had warned him. Yet he had followed her through the rune gate. It wasn’t strange though that he looked so comfortable on the back of a Volarean. The trade the woman had promised in exchange for her freedom. The first rays of dawn shivered across the horizon and her own mount started to climb. A young dragon, black as the deepest night of Frost. Her mount wasn’t the first to roar, but his one of the fiercest. Shimmering through the dawn the lines of Jacadon rose in their fury.
Elyna curled her hands around the leather strap, her leather armor was hardened. It had been made for her years ago, dyed a fierce and bold blue it shimmered in gray light. To her right was Kyanite, to her left Emily, Captain of a command of Skyriders. The wind off the back of Frost was fierce but lessened enough that they could fly.
From across the water beyond the city came the ships. Bright flags flying in blue, down below, approaching on a slow destrier, Elyna knew her father rode beside a Burhan flag. The seafarers that had come ashore had camped beyond the ridge of sight the night before, having given their support to their daughter. Caelen had screeched in fury, but Edmund was alone in his support of Marcus. Pavoo’s Father, the Duke of Burhan had been quite determined to see his great grandchildren, and supporting Warrick, was how an old man and his wife could see that dream become reality. A traditionalist he had no love for whatever magic-craft had placed the bones of a man on a boy’s temperament.
Horns blared across the landscape below and Elyna looked across at Kyanite. He was already a better archer than most Skyriders. Stay in the sky - we shoot. She signed to him. If anything happened to the man, she would never forgive herself.

Beyond the roar of furious dragon and the screech of Volarean, the low rumble and shot of cannon fire began. Either Warrick and Burhan would triumph together, or she would lose everything.

‘Take me to him,’ Elyna looked to Emily then. The mission of their unit was clear. Find Malcolm, find Jared, find Ben. Vaughn, Elyna added silently to herself. He really is just a boy.

107 Frost AoK 21

Cora had noticed Elyna’s withdrawal from the group, but it was the distance between her and the noble woman’s children that stung the most. Did she no longer trust them or was it that Cora was so close to delivering another one of her own? When Kyanite came to her with the news of his plans to follow Elyna back to the land of kings, her heart sank and that night, she had gone into early labour. When at dawn, Kyanite was presented with his new daughter, Cora was already on her feet and ate breakfast with the rest of her kin.

What will you call her? Kyanite asked his wife.

Rain Cora smiled, in honour of her father’s clan

Kyanite pressed his temple to Cora’s and stared down at their newborn. It's a good name, he agreed.

I’m sorry, my love, Cora waved.

Sorry? Why?

I promised you sons.

Kyanite lifted his hand to his wife’s hair and held her close. If Rain is half as strong as her mother, she will strike fear in the hearts of men wherever she goes.

Cora smiled again. How could he know what to say when she believed nothing could ease her woes? I look forward to our reunion, she said. Cora would not tell the man she would miss him, nor would she sow doubt in the form of worry. She will be strong by then.

Rain is our daughter. She is strong already, Kyanite said.

Jaeger stepped into the ger to meet his new niece. He embraced his brother before turning to look upon the babe.

Rain, Kyan signed, meet my blood… your blood, Jaeger.

Jaeger pressed his temple to Cora’s. Strong, he signed, already feeding. You did well, Orna.

Cora greeted the man warmly. Where is Ari, River, Arrow, Archer?

Tired after a night up with you, Jaeger grinned. Not all can be as strong as our Orna.

Cora smile at him and squeezed Kyanite’s arm.

Jaeger followed Kyanite from the ger. When do you leave? He asked the Onkarl.

Soon. Elyna says a ship will meet us at shore.

I will take care of them, brother, Jaeger gestured to the tribe.

Kyanite nodded. Don’t hump my wife, he warned.

Jaeger laughed. If you do not return by the dark season, I will take her as my wife and fill her with sons.

The brothers wrestled one another like a pair of bears, both ending up on the floor, laughing at the end of it. Come back, Jaeger said, or I really will have her.

I have every intention, Kyan told him.

He went to see River and Arrow to say his goodbyes before gathering his things and heading out into the grasslands after Elyna and the twins.


1 Bloom AoK 22

It had taken the men and women of Burhan the better part of five days to cross to the capital, be it by ship, foot or air and when they arrived on the fifth day, it was to bloodshed and ruin. There was a hole in the high stone wall of Lowtown, but Warrick had never made it beyond that point. There had been some kind of swift withdrawal, though the reason appeared unclear.

The battlegrounds were littered with horse and man alike, their number too high for even Renmere to spare. The colours of Andaris, Venora and Warrick all looked the same under the cover and dried blood and wet mud. Liam made a quick count, but the carnage stretched as far as the eye could see. “Fifty, eighty, two-hundred,” he kept counting until a wave from Emily silenced him.

“No… but the battle was not to start until today,” Pavoo said. “We fight in the light… Who would order slaughter in the dark?”

“A boy king,” Emily murmured, the fight stripped from her, replaced only with the cold chill and stink of death that surrounded them.

Kyanite got Elyna’s attention from the sky beside her and pointed to the wall. The blast, he signed, it came from inside.

Emily looked across the ground. She could not understand much of the Ontari language, but she had been able to make out the man’s hand gestures. The use of his left hand did not go unnoticed by her. Sure enough, it appeared the stone wall had shattered from within, sending shards of broken rock into the camp. How many had been killed even before the battle had begun?

The king's men had retreated to Midtown where, from the sky, Elyna would see them posted.

Pavoo called to a man poking through the rubble. “What happened here?” The Duke asked.

“Three nights ago, m’lord,” the peasant called.” He could tell Pavoo was a duke via his dress and surrounding guards. “The king attacked the camp, killing all that remained. It was a slaughter, led by The Butcher.”

Pavoo twisted in his saddle to stare up at his daughter and waved for her to land.

“What do you mean, those who remained?”

“Some prisoners escaped a few days before. Warrick started to retreat. Those who were left behind to pack up were slaughtered like cattle. They chased the rest,” he pointed west, “and haven’t returned since.”

“By the seven,” Pavoo mumbled through his thick beard. “We need to move now and flank The Butcher.”

“Would it not be wiser to secure the throne?” Liam suggested. “None know the lands of Warrick better than Jared himself. If they follow him, surely it is to their peril?”

“The closer you get to the seat of power, the more deadly you’ll find these walls,” Pavoo said. “We need to get to Warrick and regroup. If we attack the throne and lose half of our number in the attempt, we will be useless to Warrick.”

“I agree we should head to Warrick,” Emily said, “if Jared and Malcolm are alive, they will be there.”

“No time to waste!” Pavoo said, “the ships will get there faster than our men on foot. Return to the docks and set sail at once!”

“Yes, m’lord,” Pavoo’s trusted captains agreed.

He turned to his daughter. “We should have sent a scout… this is my fault,” he said. “I was so concerned with making sure Edmund stayed behind. Forgive me?”

“Don’t worry, Elyna,” Emily said, reaching up to touch her boot, grasping her by the ankle. “They escaped. You will be reunited soon.”


They passed the king’s army by air two days later, camped in the valley between The Burning Mountains and the borderlands of Warrick. The majority of their tents were Andaris colours, but trade wagons from Venora could be seen moving along the main road, eager to supply the king's efforts. The rain had been relentless and an attack now of fire by air would have proved useless. They could not risk their mounts this far from the village of Warrick, not with all their men in ships sailing up the coast. They carried on to Warrick and met their ships on the River Kyo.

At the gate they were faced with a wall of Skyriders, ready to attack. Pavoo rode with a white flag and was granted access to the settlement to talk. An hour later he emerged and his small army of four hundred was welcomed in. Ben was there to meet them at the gates. He embraced Emily a little longer than a friend might, but the woman had saved their lives and he would be eternally grateful. Liam did his best to look away, but jealousy burned anew in his core.

“Elyna!” Ben called, gathering her up in a bear hug. “Thank the seven you’re alive. We should have remained in Aramane as long as it took to find you. I’m sorry we ever returned to this miserable place.”

“Lady Burhan!” Vaughn called. He ran into her arms to embrace the noble woman who had once saved his life.

“Will you wait here?” Benjamin said, “if I go and fetch him?” She knew who he meant, Ben was sure of that. Vaughn skipped along after the knight, trying to keep up with him.

Their mounts were secured, fed and watered. Men carried goods from the ships along the docks. Construction was taking place along the west wall where a couple of Endor wagons were parked up. The village was alive with knights and Skyriders alike working to secure the Warrick stronghold. The rain did not seem to dampen their spirits, even if the earth was soaked underfoot. Gloomy clouds hung heavy in the sky, a gentle shower warning of the oncoming storm.

Kyanite, free of his mount, moved to stand beside Elyna. This world was so strange to him. Why, he wondered, would anyone choose to live in the mud behind walls three times the height of a man. He studied Ben as the giant walked away, unsure as to whether he had been the king the noblewoman spoke of. I like your home better than this one. More trees.

Two men dressed in Endor colours walked by carrying a pair of clay pots each. Their hair was dark, stark against their pale skin, true men of the mines. Kyanite watched them place their pots down near the stables before returning to their wagon to fetch some more. As they passed a second time, he couldn’t help but follow them with his gaze, curious—what was that strange smell? They looked as if they had never seen the sun in their lives. How do people live like this? Kyanite signed, not sure if Elyna had noticed, for as he moved his hands, Benjamin reappeared on the steps of Warrick House with Malcolm in tow.

The dark haired knight nodded to his brother, lips tilted in a tired smile. He blinked at the light of day and followed the direction of Ben’s outstretched arm in search of Elyna. Kyanite reached back blindly to grab at the woman’s upper arm. Before he could warn her, the familiar zip of an arrow shot by them from the south. Malcolm’s gaze found Elyna, but that tired smile was short-lived. He stumbled backwards as a second arrow struck him, much to the horror of his brother, who then spun about in an attempt to catch the regent king.

Somewhere behind them there came an inaudible shout and the hiss of flames. More arrows, but this time pointed at the stables. One of the clay pots was knocked over and black oil poured out across the ground. A second and third and then too many burning arrows to count, sparked as they struck the the onyx liquid, setting the stables alight. Someone in blue made a grab for Elyna and she was sent to the ground as Kyanite put himself between her and the stranger. He swung the tip of his crow’s beak hammer into the man’s head. There was a crack and a roar as the tribesman moved into action.

From where she fell, Elyna would see her brother on the deck of one of the Burhan ships. “He refused to give me what I needed to follow him,” Edmund said to the man standing next to him, holding a bow. “Perhaps his son won’t be as foolish as he.”

Owen plucked another arrow from his quiver and strung it to his bow. He lined up his third shot, only to find Malcolm had been dragged inside. “You’ll be Lord Commander yet,” Owen said, “and if the shock of this betrayal doesn’t kill your father, the battle surely will.”

Edmund barked an order at his men in blue, but it was impossible to hear over the sound of distant horns and the much closer cries of horses and volareon alike, burned alive where they stood, trapped in the stables. A black dragon rose into the air and looked about for its keeper. A moment's pause in all the confusion was all it took to bring it down again, with a harpoon from the ship piercing one of its wings. Grounded, the dragon tore the weapon from its limb and slivered between the narrow alleyways in search of Elyna. Another pair were shot from their nests on the walls where they awaited their riders. One got away, circled overhead and then flew southwest towards its birthplace.

The battlefield was devastation. Rows of rank stiff mud and corpses. Such waste. Elyna signed to Kyan but otherwise remained silent. Words failed her when sorrow stole her voice. With the gestures of the tribe however, she remained able to communicate. Kyan, she knew would understand her sense of feeling. Life was sacred.

She landed reluctantly and listened as the discussion moved around her. The woman gave her nod of assent before returning to the skies. Her little farmstead had been just beyond the city walls, her dragon circled slowly and the Skyrider grimaced. The seasons crops were trampled into the mud, acrid smoke rose from the remaining blackened wall of her small house. The woman had few possessions, now she accepted that she had even less. Less perhaps than even a tribesman. Elyna sighed and turned to follow the remaining ‘Riders that had come with Burhan.

The Butcher had done this. Yvan was responsible for the slaughter. His own brand of malice seared over the one roomed cottage and the land she had tried to claim as her own. She should have killed him in the grasslands.

The man you traded, Elyna explained to Kyan as he approached through the air. She gestured to the devastation below. He found his way home.


From above the clouds, she had waited until the army of Burhan was admitted to Warrick, then slowly her mount had wound to the ground. Pressing her temple to the creature she felt its reluctance to part. I’ll find you a fish, she promised with a smile. Huffing, and with a backward glance he had allowed himself to be led away to the stables.

Stood beside Kyanite, Elyna wondered if she felt braver. Certainly more confident between her allies, Kyan and Emily. It was hard not to smile at Ben, returning his crushing hug. ‘You should have never come to Aramane,’ she replied, but wasn’t sure that he heard her in his eagerness to fetch him.

‘Vaughn!’ Elyna caught the boy and squeezed him, pressing a kiss to his hair. ‘I’m so glad you are well,’ she said and meant it. But he too bounded away from her embrace. It was a strange sense of protectiveness that she watched him with. Her gaze lingering as Kyan signed beside her. Why was everyone so determined that she was desperate to see Malcolm? If she would admit it to herself, she felt a churning pit in her center at the thought of seeing the man. It was not an encounter she was eager to face.

Kyan signaled her attention again and she frowned. Her brows narrowing as beyond the tribesmen she spotted what looked like pitch jars besides the stables. They weren’t supposed to be stored anywhere near the Jacadon, or the large wooden and straw building. Turning to excuse herself from the group she caught Malcolm’s eye. Their gaze locked for a moment and time froze. An arrow thudded into his body. Knocking him into a spin as he crashed into Ben.

‘Emily!’ The shout left her before she knew. But the small blonde was already sprinting across the yard, Liam on her heels as the explosion shook the world behind them. The Skyrider Captain and her partner helped Ben drag the Regent within, ‘I can heal,’ Emily panted urgently as the doors were slammed shut, ‘I can help him!’

Ely twisted on the ground, ‘Trekka!’ She urged Kyanite. She was scrambling to her feet, nails scraping the cobblestone beneath. Kyan looked back at her and she gestured to the stables of screaming animals. The might of Warrick was in its Skyrider’s. Unsteady on ice-slick stone, the woman scrambled to where Pavoo was bowed, hunkered to the ground.

‘Let’s go Papa,’ she helped haul the man to his feet. One arm wrapped around him, she drew her sword in the other. Face streaked with mud and soot, the woman half-pulled the stumbling man across the yard towards the fire. She couldn’t leave him exposed and vulnerable. Nor could she leave the trapped animals to burn.

It was Varn who caught them, hissing in pain. Elyna pushed Pavoo forward with a single order, Guard!!

“Seven!” Benjamin said, his hands in his hair.

They hadn’t expected this. A scout mission only hours before had reported Yvan’s army to be camped in the valley, a day's travel on foot from the village. Burhan had betrayed them and Pavoo and Elyna had led them here. At that moment, Ben couldn’t be sure if Emily was friend or foe.

Malcolm groaned, clutching at the arrow lodged beneath his right collarbone, a second protruding from his left side. He coughed up blood and Benjamin almost lost his mind. The arrow must have struck the top of his lung, he thought. “No, no, no, no!” Ben said. “What do I do?”

“Get that arrow out!” Emily ordered.

Ben pressed his hand firmly against Malcolm’s shoulder and counted, “on three.”

Malcolm grit his teeth, but could never have anticipated just how much pain came with the removal of the arrow. His vision blurred and he was forced to take a breath. It burned in his lungs and he coughed up another mouthful of blood.

Emily’s hand was on the wound in an instant, white light flowing through her fingers. The flesh pulled together, leaving a nasty dark scar where the arrow had gone in. The skyrider lifted Malcolm’s arm and when he cried out, she hissed. “Shit! Something's broken. Help me sit him up!”

Benjamin felt completely helpless, as if all control had been stripped from him. Seated, Emily was able to press a hand to the knight’s shoulder and focus her magic there while Ben worked on the second arrow. “You’re bloody lucky!” Ben said, “this one only clipped you, thanks to your leather tabard!”

Malcolm lifted his arm, there was still pain there—that was unavoidable, even with magic, but he was far improved. “Thank you, Le’Sark.”

A horn outside signaled that they were being attacked from the north and south.

“The docks?”

“Three Burhan ships,” Benjamin said.

“That means they are at least three hundred strong. And the north?” Malcolm asked.

“Four hundred,” Emily interjected. She knew firsthand the number of troops Pavoo had amassed.

“Surely not Endor?” Ben answered.

A third horn told them that men on foot had been sighted from the west as well.

“That has to be Endor!” Benjamin said.

“Seven… that means Yilmaz fooled our scouts,” Malcolm said. He was already on his feet, fixing his weapon belt.”

“He’s done it before,” Benjamin said, “we should have known better… that campsite was probably empty, but the Skyriders can’t tell from so high up.”

“We did know better,” Malcolm said.

Emily twisted to watch Malcolm leave the room. “Where are you going?” She asked.

“I need to make sure Vaughn and Lazuli are safe!” He called and was gone.

She frowned. She could understand wanting to protect the children, but his wife was outside in the thick of it. Emily dashed to the door, followed by Ben. He watched as she ran outside to rejoin Elyna, and felt torn two ways. He hesitated and then ran in the direction Malcolm had disappeared.

Outside, Kyanite was throwing all of his strength behind the swing of his hammer, desperate to break the chain on the stable doors. After three unsuccessful attempts, he turned his energy on the hinges and stood back as the double doors fell to the ground with a crash. The wooden panels splintered and buckled on impact. Time stood still as he watched a horse spring from the smoking building and run by him, it’s mane a wall of flames. His limbs shook as adrenaline flooded his body. He took a breath and disappeared into the thick cloud of black smoke.

A handful of horses emerged a minute later, knocking men to the ground as they thundered from the burning stables. Voleraon clawed at the walls, climbing from their keeps to escape the flames. Some heeded the calls of their riders, while others took flight, determined only to put as much distance as they could between them and the burning village. As they took flight, many were plucked from the skies by the approaching army outside. Arrows fell like rain on both sides of the fence.

Emily took up her bow and put two arrows in the back of a man who was working to unlock the gate. It felt like a betrayal to kill a man in blue, a fellow skyrider, but she would not let Yvan march the army of Andaris through the gates unchallenged. She scanned the scene as she put another arrow to string and pulled back, her shot aimed at none other than Owen Bennett, who stood with his sights set on Elyna. “No!” She breathed and let her arrow fly.

The shot missed, but the arrow flew close enough to see the man drop his target and refocus on her instead. Edmund ducked and grabbed Owen by the arm to pull him from the deck just as Varn shot a bellyful of white fire in their direction, the power of his steam melting the clothes and flesh from those unlucky enough to stand in the path of his blast. The dragon’s roar seemed to shake the very foundations of the village, sending soldiers to the ground with their hands held over their ears.

“Pavoo!” Emily called, “this way! Get inside before they barricade the doors!”

Liam! Emily thought. She hadn’t seen him since this had all started. “Elyna!” Emily cried as she descended the stairs into the courtyard and looked about in search of her friend. She had been there a moment ago, beside the dragon. Had it crushed her in the confusion? She took her short sword from her belt and made her way through the terrified crowd of fleeing villagers and soldiers alike. She caught a glimpse of her friend’s face and ducked between two buildings to race to her side. “Can Varn fly? Yvan’s army is here! They are almost within range of Warrick’s archers!”

The dragon hissed at anyone who got too near to Elyna, and it lashed out with its tail, sending one knight to his knees. Emily finished the man with her short sword. It was a clean death for a man undeserving of one. “This is madness,” Emily said, feeling a little bit more defeated by every blow she was forced to inflict. “Why would your brother do this?”

The dragon turned and closed its jaws over the head of a woman who charged them from behind with an axe in each hand. Its jaw squeezed tight and the woman’s body went limp, her weapons falling at her feet. Varn’s pain made him unpredictable and he hissed at Emily and stepped forward as if he were about to go for her. Emily ducked as the dragon lashed out, instead biting into the shoulder of another knight that had come too close.

Something at the edge of her vision made her turn her head. A bare chested fighter on the back of a horse with no saddle and no reins. It was Kyanite. Where had he come from, she wondered. “Over there!” She pointed. It was then she realised the savage was headed for Liam. No!, could the Ontari fighter tell friend from foe?


Kyanite had run into the flames of the burning stable block, freeing as many animals as he could on his pass of the gates. Why anyone would keep animals detained like this was beyond his comprehension, but he understood the strategy behind the attack, even as his heart wept at the sight of the dead and dying creatures in his path. He had made a sweep and passed to the back of the building. He threw the doors open, the hair on his arms completely burned off.

He coughed, his eyes burning and his throat raw with the smoke he had inhaled. He ripped his crude cotton shift from his back, a garment his wife had handwoven for him. It smoked at his feet, covered in tiny holes from the burning pieces of debris that had fallen from the ceiling in the stables. The tribesman dodged a panicked horse and moved to try and calm the cornered animal. He heard a scream and spun about to see a woman on her knees, one arm wrapped about her child, the other raised defensively. A man in blue wielding a sword cut the pair down without hesitation, a sight that shocked Kyanite to his very core. There were two things which, even in war, were off limits in his culture—horses and children.

Kyanite reached for the horse’s mane and pulled himself up onto the frightened animal. He raised his hammer and took off after the man. A satisfying crack announced the Burhan knight’s death and the horse kicked out as it passed by, trampling the man’s limp body. What man, Kyanite thought, could feel threatened by the life of a mother trying to protect her child. A coward. Adrenaline had spurred him to action, but he rode now on the wings of anger, determined to see an end to the slaughter of any more innocent beings caught in the crossfire.

As he rounded the stables, Elyna’s dragon had let out a blast of steam that leveled every knight and skyrider in its path, including those foolish enough to stand on the deck of their ships while a Jacadon was in sight. With one attack, the dragon had killed more than forty men. The horse reared up, crying out at the sheer heat that peeled away from the earth in long white ribbons. A handful of attackers who had managed to avoid the dragon fire, made a run for the docks and Kyanite followed, charging towards the fleeing fighters with his weapon raised.


“Blast like that!” Edmund shouted from below deck, “I bet it only has one more good attack left in it before it will need seawater to go again!”

“Won’t get anywhere near the sea with that hole in its wing!” Owen shouted above the noise and confusion that came after the attack.

“They keep seawater stores in four pools scattered about the village. Our spies say there may be a fifth near the noble house!”

“Shit!” Owen called back to Edmund, “we need to kill that dragon! Our numbers can’t take another hit like that!”

“That or we wait for reinforcements! Yvan is close!” Edmund shouted. “I say we ditch the ship and lose the colours—maybe we can get inside that house!”

“House Warrick? Don’t be a fool! We need to get out of here and reunite with Yvan’s army!”

Edmund paused and considered the man’s words. “No! Someone needs to get that gate open!”

Owen shook his head, Edmund’s plan was insane. He pulled off his cloak and tunic, casting them aside. As he fastened his weapons belt over his black leather and chainmail, he pointed to an old shield pinned to the wall, with a look. The coat of arms depicted on it was for House Warrick. “That might just get us there!”

Edmund grinned.

At first, Elyna wasn’t sure how or why it had happened, but she found herself in a fight for her life. Arrows chinked off her armor, and she twisted, sword raised to block a strike to her head. In her left hand she held a thin blade and struck, slipping it through a gap in her attackers armor. Blood bubbled forth from his mouth, but she had little time to process his surprise as another attack came. She twisted, two seasons regaining her fitness, and strength in the grasslands were paying dividends. This time her sword slid into the middle of a woman who dropped to her knees, hand clasped helplessly to the blood stained blade. She wore blue livery but Elyna didn’t recognise her. Deception and treachery, they had been betrayed.

An arrow passed too close to comfort as she turned her face. Elyna blinked, swallowing a wave of sickness. That had been far too close. Varn was half curled behind her, like a cornered cat. Confident of the protector at her back, Elyna worked to defend her Father as he stumbled on the icy cobbles, an unused sword in hand.

Kyanite thundered past with a roar, more than a few combatants running from the site of the savage. An arrow grazed Elyna’s arm, bouncing off the metal plate of her van brace. Outraged, hurt and frightened, Varn drew onto his rear legs lancing his fury at the ship the attack had been launched from. Elyna bent at the knees, head pressed on one side to her shoulder as she grimaced. There were few things quite as intense and terrifying as a dragon’s scream. Primal it lifted the hair on her neck, deafened her as she tried to shake off the confusion.

Edmund was attacking. Edmund had betrayed their Father and Grandfather. He had betrayed the Duke and Malcolm. Edmund had betrayed her. Elyna forced her fury to calm and reached out. Laying a gloved hand on the Jacadon she made the creature a silent promise.

Emily appeared like an avenging ancient warrior from a wall of smoke, desperately Elyna tampered with the urge to ask how Malcolm was, to demand answers. Elyna couldn’t pause as she turned to face down her next assailant, a slender man trying to shove past her to get to Pavoo. Varn bent, and made a brief meal of the man, forcing Elyna to jump over the edge of his tail. This was impossible, the Baron was too exposed and unable to defend himself.

Turning to deflect a strike, Elyna dropped and drew her shorter blade across the hamstring of the newest attacker. For the last year it had felt that the world had forgotten who she was, hidden her in dainty dresses in the shadows of ballrooms. She was a Skyrider, with a dragon at her back and a gathering crew around her. Thank the Seven for her time in Emanys, Elyna prayed silently. Her gaze fell on Kyan who was fast approaching Liam. The tall red head had stripped off his helmet and turned to the tribesmen, hands raised as he dropped to his knees, hoping that Kyan might recognise him as a friend.

Elyna pressed her fingers to her mouth and whistled, the high pitch splitting across the sound of battle, she hoped Kyan would recognise the sound. He seemed to pause and his hesitation was enough for Liam to scramble back to his feet and sprint, white-faced back to Elyna as she, Emily and Varn made their stand.

‘Liam,’ it was the new Captain who made the command, ‘get Pavoo into the keep!’

Liam shouted his agreement, ‘with me, your Grace,’ he extended a burly hand to Pavoo and helped the man to his feet.

‘Captain!’

Both young women turned to see a retinue of bruised and bloodied Skyrider’s approaching. There was a pause before the team, led by Rosa fell into step beside Emily and under her command. ‘Wounded to the left, we cover Varn, we cover the entrance to the Keep!’ Emily’s order were clear.

Elyna and Emily moved to cover Pavoo’s retreat, Varn snaking and snarling around them. It felt as though an age passed as they crossed the yard. Finally, Liam and Pavoo were bundled into the door. Varn, spitting like a cat backed against the entrance with his hackles up.

Elyna wiped the sweat from her eyes. Among the fire and confusion that had followed the explosions, factions were grouping together, it was getting easier to see those who were mustering to defend Warrick.

Kyan rejoined the group and she signaled her relief to the man. Beyond the walls the sky was dark with oncoming storm clouds. So close to Frost, Yvans army would be driven by snow and sleet at their back. Elyna had no doubt that the Butcher was closer than anticipated. Her heart gave an uncertain lurch in her chest.

She scanned the area of docklands where two of the ships were burning, the other catching. Most of the crews had abandoned the vessels and approached, but slowly. They were waiting for something. At the gate, the main entrance to Warrick, she could see Red and Gold livery’s mustering and holding firm against any who tried to pass.

It was then she spotted a pair of figures, movements that she recognised. Elyna paid no attention to the livery they wore as she shouted her rage.

Emily turned, abandoning her sword in favour for a bow once more. Picking off anyone who dared approach the main door to the noble house.

It was Elyna who left the steps and the the high ground they had been holding. She seemed to fly across the carnage that had been left, the devastation of death and explosion. Sword in hand she jumped at the first of the two, pinning him to the ground before he twisted, throwing her off.

Elyna circled her brother, sword in hand and snarled, lip curled in fury. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?!’

‘Don’t even think about it Owen!’ Emily leveled her bow at the man from the steps. ‘I won’t miss at this distance!’

If Owen hadn’t heard, then the roar of anger that erupted from Varn should have been enough to capture his attention. Even without fire, a Dragon’s scream had the power to draw attention. The skirmishes surrounding the interior of the keep seemed to come to a pause. As though the battle was taking a breath.

Elyna cast off her helmet, tossing it to the ground so that she could meet her brothers gaze. Skyriders, navy men and soldiers in blue advanced, exchanging glances as they looked between the siblings.

Edmund gripped his own sword tightly, his own helm discarded in haste.

‘Traitor!’ Elyna shouted, well aware of the gathering audience. The men of Warrick were using the time she bought them to regroup, to steady the Volarean that had managed to escape the fury of fire and arrows. She could sense Emily’s behind her, and knew that the arrow set against Owen Bennett wouldn’t waiver. She could also sense Kyon, at the edge of what was becoming an arena of combat, one littered with charred and bloodied corpses.

‘Traitor?!’ Edmund threw back his head with laughter, the troops of Burhan looked on. ‘He was just a regent, Marcus is the true King of Renmere.’

‘Traitor to Burhan!’ Elyna leveled her sword then, ‘you betray our fathers wishes, you betray the orders of the Duke!’

A number of those in blue shifted, as though uneasy. Had they not been following the wishes of Duke Burhan?

‘The Duke is ancient,’ Edmund scoffed, ‘by rights Burhan would have been mine in time.’

‘Or mine,’ Elyna replied softly, ‘should you fall…’

Edmund laughed at that one, sword lowered till the tip brushed the icey cobbles beneath. ‘You’re being ridiculous,’ he taunted, ‘go back to your pretty dresses, we will find you a new husband.’

‘Don’t make me do this…’ Elyna replied, she lifted her sword before her face in guard, a clear intention that she would attack.

Edmund looked his sister over, smeared with dirt and streaks of mud. Dressed up in armor of a beautiful Burhan blue. How old was she now? 20, 21 years? Surely no one else here would be taking her seriously, dragon or not. Her hair plaited and knotted at the nape of her neck. ‘You’re a girl, playing at knights and fairy tales,’ Edmund lowered his voice. ‘Time to wake up Elyna.’

He charged without warning, and his first blow knocked her off balance. But Elyna was faster than he had anticipated and managed to slip beyond his attack. She dodged him blows, blocked him and parried. Before he knew it, he was following her around the arena, furiously swinging his sword in a flurry of blows. His anger grew as each was neatly deflected or dodged. She seemed to dance beyond his reach and it was infuriating.

Never had Edmund considered that his sister did more than play at being a Skyrider. Never had he believed she may have some talent. It had been unthinkable that she might in anyway, best him through combat.

The ground beneath was treacherous, slick and uneven and Edmund stumbled after one of his heavy blows failed to land.

Elyna was behind him, her hand deep with his hair as she gripped his scalp, her blade held to his throat. She scanned the crowd her gaze landing on Oweb who had lowered his bow.

‘Burhan!’ She pressed the sharp ridge of steel to her brothers throat. She straightened herself, gaze cold as she scanned the crowd of faces, each watching with anticipation.

‘Men of Burhan!’ She steadied her breath, ‘you will defend Warrick. This is the desire of the Duke. Edmund has led you astray. She could feel his trembling body against her own, his pulse flickering against the inside of her wrist where she held him, his neck exposed and awaiting the kiss of death.

‘Yield,’ she whispered. Desperate in her hope. Beyond the walls she heard the approaching horn of an army.

He tried to squirm, shouting with rage, ‘I’ll kill you!’ He returned, ‘you and your bastards! The line of Burhan is mine!’

She closed her eyes for a moment, whatever waver had been in her hand stilled.

‘Edmund Burhan,’ she announced it clear and loud across the now silent yard, ‘you commit treason against your King. You betray your name, you have betrayed the noble house of Burhan…you betrayed me…’ the pommel of her short sword slammed against his skull. His body fell forward, limp on the cobbles. Emily released her arrow into the shoulder of the King’s brother, a second thudding into place above his right knee so that he too dropped. His scream piercing the unsettling silence that had fallen.

She looked up, wiping her arm across her face as though to remove any silent tears. Painting her cheeks with crimson streaks. The stunned crowd of onlookers remained silent until Emily stepped forward.

‘For Warrick!’ The Captain shouted and was met with a cheer.

‘For Warrick!!!! For the Regent King!!!’

‘For Malcolm…’ Elyna whispered into the rising chant. All of the stillness came to an end as soldiers rushed to defend the walls.

Kyanite watched as Elyna knocked her brother unconscious. As a warrior, she had his respect, but morally, he found himself torn. Could he have done the same to his own brother, even if he had been betrayed? A second man was disabled by Emily, and the blue cloaks he had put his hammer to only moments before, appeared to change their tune. Loyalty, it seemed, was a fickle thing in the land of kings.

Owen ripped the arrow from his shoulder, his leathers had absorbed most of the impact. The wound bled as soon as it was exposed, and though he did not dare remove the arrow buried in his leg, he didn’t let the pain in his shoulder stop him from his next act. The small throwing blade would have killed Elyna, were it not for the Onkarl’s vigilance. It protruded from his right forearm, having pierced the flesh where he moved to block Owen’s throw. The sight of the deeply logged weapon caused even Owen to take pause. Who was this stranger, he wondered, that would throw his life down for his brother’s wife?

“Take them to the cells!” A warden in red called, as Warrick’s troops finally assembled.

A handful of men stepped forward to do as the warden had ordered, taking Owen, Edmund and any others who resisted to the small prison near the centre of the village.

“Put those fires out!” Another man barked, throwing buckets into the hands of those they had just been fighting.

Blue and red cast their grudges aside and threw their energy into saving as many homes as they could. The Burhan ships were left to burn where they sat anchored to the docks. Those who refused to comply were now outnumbered and either captured or killed.

Kyanite, straight faced, pulled the throwing dagger from his forearm and Emily moved to try and heal the wound. He looked at his blood painted hand as her magic moved through him. Only a fresh purple scar remained, an inch in width on the top and underside of his forearm. “Are you all right?” She asked the man.

The Onkarl stared at her, not understanding. He looked at Elyna for clarification and nodded, raising his hand to wave, fine.

“Thank you,” Emily said, “for protecting her…”

Kyanite tipped his head. He understood her gratitude, those were familiar words Elyna had used before, but whatever message followed that remained a mystery to him.

Varn’s scales flattened out, his skin smooth once more. The dragon visibly relaxed, the tension easing in his muscles. He tucked in his wings and stomped towards one of the salt wells, drawn to the smell. He drank his fill and climbed one of the dragon towers on the wall to look out over the fields. Tension coiled within him again as he sighted the approaching army, his concern shared with his rider through their connection.

“Archers assemble!” The warden called and knights and Skyriders alike moved to fetch their bows and gather up arrows.

Kyanite made a move to go with them, taking up a bow for himself. If there was one thing he knew he could do well, it was archery. He climbed up the ladder onto the wall alongside Emily and Liam. As they looked out over the fields, Kyanite paused to take in the sight of the assembled troops. He couldn’t think of a time in which he had ever seen so many men and women united in the same cause, standing together—House Venora alongside House Andaris.

“Seven help us,” Emily whispered.

To the west, the troops of Endor were moving to join them. There must have been at least two thousand riders on horseback and double that again in footmen. The three houses were not famed for their Skyriders, that was where Warrick shined, but many of their mounts had been disabled or killed in the initial attack.

“They planned this,” Liam said.

“We should have taken the city,” Emily answered. “Where is the king?”

“Which one?” Liam asked.

She looked at him and frowned, “our king regent.”

Below the manor, Malcolm was lifting Vaughn onto the back of his horse. A second held Lazuli, her small hands balled about a fistful of silver mane.

“What did you mean?” Benjamin asked, “that we had anticipated this attack?”

“Not that Burhan would turn,” Malcolm replied, “but that Yvan would lead us to believe something that wasn’t real. We couldn’t count on Burhan and so we didn’t factor them in.”

“Where’s Jared?” Ben asked, “why didn’t you tell me what you thought Yvan would do?”

“We couldn’t risk it,” Malcolm said.

“Couldn’t risk what!” Benjamin accused, “informing me, one of your captains!”

“Ben—“

“Don’t Ben me!” The man shouted, “I’m your brother!”

“So is Owen!” Malcolm yelled as he turned to face the man. Lazuli and Vaughn flinched. Neither of them had ever heard the duke raise his voice before.

“Father I’m scared—why are you covered in blood?” Vaughn asked.

Malcolm stared long and hard at Ben.

Benjamin stared back, angry. “Are you saying you no longer trust me?”

“I had to be sure—“

“A season and a half in prison proved nothing to you? I could have left with Emily! But I stayed behind for you!”

“Ben! There’s no time for this!”

Ben stepped back. “Then you’re on your own…”

“Ben—no! I need your help,” Malcolm pleaded.

Ben shook his head. “No, it seems you don’t.”

He turned his back and walked away, even as Malcolm protested. “Benjamin! Ben! Captain, I order you to return!”

Ben left the tunnels and climbed the stone steps to join the fight outside.

“Ben!” Malcolm shouted.

Lazuli started crying. Malcolm lifted her from the dappled grey and set her behind Vaughn on his mount. He climbed up into the saddle and pulled the children against him. “This way,” he said to the handful of Warrick riders in tow. “Light the torches… we will need them.”

Outside on the wall, the archers were taking their positions and readying arrows in rows two or three deep. One man would take his shot, move aside and make room for the next while the first had a moment to reload. The army stopped just out of range of their arrows but they continued to test them. A man on a white horse rode out dragging a length of rope that was tied to a Warrick scout.

“Is that Yvan?” Emily asked.

Liam squinted, he had only seen the man once or twice in passing. “Looks like a big bloke.”

Kyanite closed his eyes and when, half a minute later, he opened them again, he signed. Same aura.

Emily looked confused. “How could you tell that?” She asked.

Esen, Kyanite waved, it’s strong here on the plains.

Emily caught only one word of his explanation, strong. “He is something,” she said.

“What did he say?” Liam asked.

“That Yvan is strong, I think?” Emily said.

“He’s a cockroach,” Ben said, “one I’d like to crush under my boot.”

“Ben!” Emily said, surprised to see the king’s brother on the wall with the rest of the troops. “Where’s Malcolm?”

“Gone,” he replied. “Let’s get these towers lit, we don’t know how long this battle will last, or what the weather will do.”

Kyanite looked to Elyna for context and then out at the army once more, focused.

Ben looked confused by the hand signals the woman used. “Who—“

“Long story,” Emily cut him off, “can you get us access to a couple of volareons, Ben?”

“I’ll talk to the warden,” he said, and disappeared.

Liam’s shoulders were tight with tension. He knew he had no right to be jealous, Emily had told him in confidence, they were open with each other like that, but it still bugged him. What did Benjamin Beaumont have that he lacked? It would be a strange last thought to have, he decided, and focused on the battle ahead once more.

Emily looked about, following Ben with her gaze. She watched as he approached the warden and held her breath, hoping, praying that he could get them up in the air where they could be of real use. The warden shook his head and her heart sank.

“Looks like we are grounded for the battle,” she said. “Make sure you all have a backup weapon…”

Elyna stood, frozen in the ice as she forced herself to breathe and keep breathing. Numbed to the cold, she looked up, gaze focusing on Owen as he met her eye and threw his blade. The woman made no move to dodge, accepting the inevitable as sharpened iron cut through the air. How could Owen want to kill her, so desperately that even defeated he was determined? He had been her friend, he had asked her to marry him. His betrayal felt like a loss, all over again. She had loved him.

Kyanite’s reactions spurred her to motion, she shouted moving to try and the man before falling back. Emily had learnt how to heal, something Elyna had forsaken. She watched the man, communicating swiftly when he looked in her direction. Elyna moved closer to the tribesmen, this had to be so wrong to him. She curled her hand around his arm; offering silent comfort. Not that she needed it herself. The plains of Emanys and Warrick had never felt so different. This land was boarded by cold stone, and now the bodies of the dead and dying.

Varn settled himself and the woman could breathe easier. Some of the tension lifted as he took up position on a tower. He was happier there, and his presence would be welcome in the battle to come. She collected up her discarded bow and a quiver and of arrows. It was easier to follow the wardens, to fall back into being commanded. Silently, Elyna climbed up beside her friends and started warming the stave of wood, moving it between her hands until the bow would bend without breaking. Her gaze fixed on the approaching rider as Ben returned.

Malcolm was gone? She chanced a glance at the giant and found herself edging a little closer to Kyan once more. Malcolm wasn’t dead, but he had left. There had been a note of anger in Beaumont’s voice. One she didn’t recognise. Never, Elyna realized, had she heard Ben sound angry, even if the tone was well disguised. Elyna swallowed the words on her tongue and forced herself to breathe again.

Yvan, Kyan confirmed and she nodded and dutifully set her arrow to the string, though it shook. She drew before easing the tension and lowering the arrow tip back to the stone wall.

‘He will have terms,’ the woman spoke quietly before signing to Kyan. He will offer trade. To stop battle.

How many thousands had Venora and Andaris mustered? Why were they so determined to see Marcus on the throne, to see Malcolm dead? Her own path had been inextricably linked with the King Regent. If he died, then there would only be death awaiting her twins. Marcus would have come to the Throne in just a few short years…what had caused him to revel in such needless death? No one won from this. There could be no victory for Renmere. The stomp of boots made the walls shake, and she trembled as the distant skies rumbled with the threat of thunder.

She twisted to look down the wall of archers. What were they fighting for? What were they defending? Warrick, so Malcolm could leave safely. Such was the decision of a King. She tried to picture the look he had given her across the courtyard, had he been happy to see her? Had he, even back in Aramane when the twins had been born, been pleased to see her?

Elyna swallowed and set the bow in its holder and attached the quiver to her belt. ‘He will have to treat with nobility,’ Elyna looked around for any sign of a Warrick noble, hopefully her own father was safe with Malcolm.

‘Elyna, its Yvan - he doesn’t follow those rules,’ Emily protested.

‘Perhaps it will depend on who approaches him?’ Elyna had set her sights on the man.

‘No, no, no - ‘ Emily moved towards her friend but found Liam’s hand on her shoulder.

‘We need more time to ready our defense,’ Elyna gestured to the wall. Below, work to prepare the few mounts was frantic. ‘I can give you time.’

‘At what cost?’ Emily shouted, wrenching her arm free.

Elyna quirked a smile at that, ‘I won’t know unless I try…Kyan needs to stay here. Yvan will kill him, I know that much.’

She looked across at the tribesmen, they need your hammer. Elyna gestured rapidly, Kyanite warrior. She swallowed then, I trade for time. Please stay.

Elyna signed her love and approached the Warden who looked her over and gave a nod. Without further word to her companions, Elyna slid back down the ladder and made her way to the gate.

Hands on the parapet, Emily watched, heart in mouth as a lone figure walked out from gates that slammed shut behind her. Elyna mounted up on a black horse and trotted out across the plains towards the man, mounted on the white horse.

Elyna held her head up, fingertips brushing the grasses as she went. She fixed Yvan in her sights, sword sheaved and still dripping blood. The rattle of the army before her was deafening, endless rows on faces looking on impassively. Her hair was tugged by the breeze as she waited. The army from Endor approached, would they send a delegation also?

‘What are your terms?’ She called finally, and waited.

Kyanite understood the command, but as soon as he realised what Elyna was doing, he jumped the wall and scaled the stone on the other side just long enough that he knew the remaining drop wouldn’t see him injured. His fingertips bled where he had struggled to hold onto the wall, breaking the blunt ends of his nails.

“Kyanite!” Emily called, “no!”

The warrior ran through the muddy snow at the foot of the wall and on towards the fields where small wheat shoots were already sprouting. He had sensed untapped esen everywhere in the land of kings, at its strongest in Burhan, weaker near the capital and renewed once more across the plains of Warrick. He pulled the wild esen about his form, there one moment, gone the next.

“Wh—where did he go?” Liam asked.

Emily found herself holding her breath once more. She had forgotten about the Ontari’s ability to wield wild esen and use it to hide whole campsites in. This was the first time she had seen it in action, only knowing that it existed because of her stay.

“He’s going to get her killed!” Liam protested.

Emily reached out to press her hand to his arm in a gesture of silent comfort.


Yvan made no move to meet Elyna half way, instead waiting for her to put as much ground between herself and the archers on the wall. He held up his right arm and once she was just about on them, waved a silent order that took her horse out from under her. The animal fell forward, sending her over its head before it rolled onto its side and kicked. The tail feathers of a crossbow bolt was all that could be seen against its chest, the bolt sent so deep there would be no saving the animal.

“I don’t want anything from you I haven’t already taken,” Yvan said. He spat at the ground. “You have no power here, Elyna, and soon you will have no title either. No husband, no children, no family to hide behind.”

Varn rose up on his hind quarters as Elyna’s horse fell. He could sense his rider’s surprise and panic. The dragon tested his wings against the air and gave a cry that saw every horse on the battlefield prance nervously where they stood. Some shook their heads out of fear while other raked at the ground, eager to go forward. Varn knew he could not flight but he had enough height to glide onto the battlefield, which was exactly what he did.

“Kill the dragon!” Yvan ordered.

As Varn swept over the gathered forces, he was met with a volley of arrows, some of which bounced off his thick hide while others pierced the softer parts of flesh around his neck and wings.

“Shields!” One of Yvan’s captains called as the dragon flew overhead and let out a torrent of white fire. It poured over the footmen behind the line of horses and devastated the back lines. Varn landed in the field beyond and turned to run at the wounded men on foot.

“Pathetic really,” Yvan sneered, “I had hoped Warrick would prove more of a challenge.

Only Yvan could lose fifty men in the blink of an eye and call for more carnage. Their lives were worthless to him, pawns in a chess game of his design. His arrogance, however, proved to be his undoing every time.

“Yvan!” One of his captains called before giving his order to the signalmen, “we are under attack!”

Yvan pulled his horse about full circle, twisting in the saddle to get a better look at the back line. “The dragon can’t do that again! Kill it!” He ordered.

The sound that bellowed from the signalman’s horn, turned the army’s focus west, rather than north, where the troops of Endor had taken them by surprise.

“Traitors!” Yvan called, “the son of Endor promised me victory in the south!” He kicked his horse and it spun about to face Elyna, “get her!” He ordered. “Captain order our forces to refocus their efforts on Endor and allow our nobles to pass east.”

The captain paused. Did Yvan mean to have them stay and fight to the death while he and his handful of nobles fled the battlefield? “Ser?”

“Now!” Yvan barked.

The horn blew again and the mass of troops moved into position.

Two men grabbed Elyna and dragged her towards Yvan’s mount. Not a foot from where she fell, the man before her, with his hands closed around her wrists, suddenly went limp. Blood gushed from his neck and he fell to his knees, choking as death rushed to claim him. The sight was enough to see the second man scarper, abandoning his post and orders from the new warden.

Yvan, not quite sure what he had seen, was taken by surprise as he was ripped from his horse and thrown to the ground like a sack of horse dung. The magic that had cloaked Kyanite grew weak with the movement and he was revealed to them.

“Ghost!” A knight on his horse called before turning to flee.

Yvan, however, knew better. The butt of Kyanite’s hammer knocked the sense from him, and he lay there, blinking at the falling rain. Yvan spat blood and tried to snatch at his dagger, but Kyanite had straddled him, making it difficult to move.

There was a hiss and all about them the earth was on fire, the smell of oil burning in their nostrils. The battleground has been prepped and chosen, but not by Yvan… he had led his army into a trap. Behind them and from above, Skyriders descended on the divided army, raining arrows and fire through their ranks.

“Jared!” Emily pointed as a white Jacadon shot out of the storm clouds and breathed dragon fire across the length of Yvan’s troops before gliding up into the heavens again.

“Archers now!” Emily cried, ordering them to take out those who strayed within range.

The horse trotted to the midpoint before jolting to a stop, picking up on the reluctance of its rider perhaps. Elyna hadn’t intended to go any further. She drew a breath, and then another. Yvan made no movement toward her. She swallowed her fear, mouth dry and tongue too heavy. All the world felt distant, limbs slow to react. He wanted her to go closer, there was no doubt he had recognised her. But going closer was a fool’s errand, a gambit that surely only ended in death.

But he wouldn’t wait forever, and this was buying time. Time for archers to collect more arrows. For the walls and gates to be barricaded. Time for any surviving Jacadon or Volarean to recover and join the battle as the formidable foes they were. Elyna felt her horse skitter beneath her and she edged the mare forward, slowly urging every reluctant step. Each step towards the Butcher, a step closer to inescapable death.

They plodded the last part of the journey, as though picking through treacherous ground. Elyna forced herself to sit straight, gaze fixed on her target. She knew Yvan. Knew the primitive baseness of his violence and desire for blood. He had taken enough from her. Yet it still shocked her, when her mount was so cruelly cut down.

She tumbled, landing badly on her shoulder. Curling on her side as the desperate beast kicked out. She scrambled, eyes wet with tears as she tried to approach and give a painless end, but was too late. She tasted blood in her mouth and straightened, her head was ringing from the fall. Elyna found her way to her knees then her feet, cringing as the Butcher spat.

‘You’ll never be anything, Yvan!’ She returned, but her voice was lost in the roar of her dragon. Elyna ducked as he flew overhead, twisting to shield her gaze from the sudden inferno. Never would she forget the screams, nor the acrid scent of burning flesh. There was no winning here.

Yvan gave the order to attack and she sprang forward, sword drawn to cut the head off the snake. Caught by two soldiers she screamed her rage before the first fell. Kyan. Even without seeing the man, she knew it to be true. The second soldier was easily dispatched and she turned her attention to Yvan. He was pinned by Kyan and she stumbled forward, legs shaking with adrenaline as she set her sword to the man’s throat. Halting his struggle with the Ontari.

‘Seven, forgive me my sins,’ she whispered and reversed the sword to knock the man unconscious. She had so wanted to kill him. To end his butchery once and for all. Even now, she wasn’t sure if he would make it from the battlefield.

There was barely time to inhale before the sky fell in a sea of fire. ‘Kyan!’

Elyna dived for the tribesmen, pulling him close as she felt Varn furiously batting away anyone in his reach as he carved a path through the grass to be beside her once more. Within rising chaos and the raging fire, most fled out of his way like mice fleeing a snake.

Choking on smoke, Elyna drew her bow, picking off anyone foolish enough to run past. She crouched as Varn cut through the blaze and bent. ‘Up!’ UP! She gestured urgently to Kyan, indicating the dragon as she scaled his back, settling between his wings. They couldn’t fly but they would be protected from the flames that circled them. And from above the grass, she could pick off more targets.

Arrow after arrow found his mark, till her quiver was empty and her fingers numb from shooting. Her arm shook and the woman bent. Her vision was clouded with smoke as she gasped for air. Varn let out a mournful shout. Spinning like a cat within the encroaching flames, scouring for a way out.

Up! Elyna ordered and Kyanite scrambled to his feet, reaching for her outstretched hand. He was forced back by a knight brave enough to get close to the dragon. Kyanite took up his poleaxe and swung, throwing the man to the ground before the crow’s beak came down and left him lifeless in the mud. Kyanite threw his weapon down and used both hands to climb up on top of the dragon's back. He sat behind Elyna, forced to put an arm about her for fear of falling as the beast moved unpredictably, dodging men on horseback.

It ran through the fueled flames, ignoring the pain in its limbs caused by arrows working deeper into its flesh with every painful step. Even clear of the battlefield, they had not managed to escape the flames and smoke which burned their eyes and lungs. Kyanite grabbed at Elyna’s cloak, smothering his face with the end of it to try and steal a breath of air that wasn’t thick with smoke. He could taste it on his tongue and felt lightheaded with all the concentration it had taken to use magic while moving. He coughed and realised the woman was having just as much trouble as him trying to take in air.

Varn was almost at the wall when he collapsed, attacking his own limbs for the pain the arrows caused him. Kyanite pulled Elyna to the ground and shouted for her to follow in Tari, staying low in an attempt to avoid the smoke, even as it made the way forward impossible to see. He slammed his firsts and arms against the burning earth, trying to clear a path for the woman behind him.

“Drop a rope! I have to go to them!” Emily said.

Liam did as she ordered, sure it was the fastest way forward. Emily, much like her friend, required full support in a man, or no man at all. Liam had learned long ago not to question her, even if he thought it meant losing her to danger. The rope was pulled up onto the wall as soon as Emily’s feet touched the ground, as was protocol. She ran towards the dragon and grabbed Elyna’s arm to help pull her to her feet. “This way!” She said, “we have to get out of the smoke!”

They trudged forward until they reached the mud and snow, rounding the wall to the gate, but Emily knew there would be no entry. The safety of the village came before a handful of troops, even a noble one. “Quick, come on!” Emily said, “to the river!”

Kyanite followed the pair to the water’s edge and jumped in after them. The water was freezing, far colder than anything he had ever experienced in Emanys. The fright of it forced him to suck in a breath and he coughed as he reached the surface, sure he had swallowed half the river. Panic set in and he went to the bank to catch his breath before looking about his surroundings for the pair who were swimming towards the docks. He went after them and was pulled onto the wharf by Ben and Liam who were there waiting for them.

“Get them inside!” Ben ordered, words that were lost on Kyanite. He looked to Liam and followed his lead, directed to the manor where the three of them discarded most of their clothing and tried to warm up under blankets Liam had fetched.

“We’re going to win!“ Liam said. “The Skyriders of Warrick have made a second pass and are loading up for a third!”

Emily looked at her friend and seemed to read her mind. A win today was no win at all, but at least they had their lives, unlike so many wasted souls out there.

When the battle was done, as if on cue, the rain fell so heavy it drowned out the moans of those who lay dying. The fires were put out and the dreary work of going through the fields began. Anyone who could be saved, friend or foe, were spared by the red cloaks, carried in on stretchers and by wagon. Those who were worse off were treated in the field while others, too close to death, were dealt a swift end. Some were taken captive, depending on their stripes, while others were patched up and set free, forced to walk back to their camp a days ride from the village.

“It’s more than they deserve,” Liam said.

“They were only following orders,” Ben reminded him.


Jared commanded his dragon to touch down alongside Varn. Troops worked around him to make sure there was no threat to his life. The nobleman took a pinch of something from a pouch on his belt and lifted his hand. The dragon bowed its head and opened its mouth, as all Jacadon were trained to do, and moments later it was asleep.

“Get those arrows out!” Jared shouted, before moving to do what he could to help. “Go fetch one of the healers.”

“Right away, M’lord.”


That evening Benjamin found the four of them helping out inside rather than resting and called to Elyna. He gestured towards the door and the others followed, curious as to why the regent’s brother had summoned her. Outside in the courtyard, Yvan was struggling against his bindings as he was being led to the prison. The guards who had a hold of him, stopped a few metres from Jared and his captains.

“You’ve failed, Yilmaz. This time his grace will show no mercy,” Jared said.

Emily moved closer to where Ben stood in an attempt to overhear the conversation between the butcher and the baron.

Yvan smirked, his face and arms black with soot. “I had to try.”

“You’re not the hero you think you are.”

“Hero?” Yvan spat, “heroes make sacrifices for the greater good. I have no such compulsion.”

“No,” Jared agreed, “you’re too selfish for that.”

“No one wants your lover in power, why do you think so many rallied against him! Where is he? Tucked his tail and ran didn’t he! You nobles are all the same, cowards. The only person with the balls to face me was her!” Yvan pointed at Elyna.

Jared’s brow knitted at its centre. “You’ll rot in those cells until the families of the men and women you led to slaughter decide your fate.”

“Why not end it here, coward?”

“Take him away,” the baron said.

Elyna reached back, secure in Kyan’s hold around her waist she curled her hand around his arm. Refusing to risk his loss, if she had to cling to the man then she wouldn’t let him go. The tribesman had become too dear to her. Varn collapsed at the walls and spent, she lent forward. Reluctant to leave the dragon until he shifted, throwing her off. On her knees in the black fog of ash, she couldn’t breathe. Hands flailing the woman searched for Kyan on her knees, only to be hauled forward. There was little point protesting.

Everything in the woman demanded she stay with her mount, but resisting Kyan could risk his life. It was Emily who pulled her forward, recognising the blindness the ash had caused. Stumbling after her friend, Elyna was all but pushed into the river. Knees landing in the mud she dived forward, washing the worst of the ash from her eyes. She turned as Emily hauled her up again, pulling her into the icy water.

‘Kyan!!!!’ She scanned the bank, relief stealing her balance as the man emerged from the smoke. She shouted for him again, forced to start kicking against the current or fall beneath it. Elyna kicked hard for the docks, all but falling into Ben’s arms as Liam pulled Emily out.

With the shock of ice and fire behind her, she found herself shivering. Moving to try and help Kyan as he was pulled up. Wrapped in a blanket, Elyna forced herself to keep moving. One step, one step she muttered to herself. Her body demanded sleep, craved it. But there would be no rest. Not with the roar of dragon fire beyond the wall and the terrified screams of the drying.

Elyna was exhausted, bloodied, bruised beneath her clothes, frozen and aching. They’d been given whatever clothes could be found, but she’d pulled her leather armor back on again. It was stiff with ice. She kept close to Kyan, but the second it was possible the woman had gone to Varn. Lingering at a distance until Jared was summoned away. It was then she had approached, moving to tend the Jacadon with her own hands. She thanked the creature silently as he slept, he had saved them. Her and Kyan. Their bond formed more readily as rain gave way to the early dusk of frost.

Once she was confident that Varn was comfortable, the woman moved through the battlefield. Bending to help those in need and drag or carry them to stretchers, giving a quick death to those who begged for it. Her sleeves were coated with blood, it dripped down her arms and it was hard to look at Kyan. She struggled to be proud of her land in those moments.

Summoned by Ben, Elyna greeted the man with a weary smile. Gathering up her sword and bow, the woman took a moment to steady herself. Certain she looked a mess, covered in soot, coughing it from lungs that felt they were still burning. She slicked her hair back from her face, knowing most had escaped her plait. Elyna made her way beneath the gates. Like Emily, the woman approached to hear the discussion between Jared and Yilmaz. She felt as though she was going to throw up. Her body seemed to hum with unspent fury.

Jared and Yvan, with Yilmaz bold enough to make his accusations to the Barons face. She flinched, looking between them as she moved her bow staff between her fingers. He would get away again, Yvan. He would get away and her life would be forever haunted by her mistakes. Jared, a face she had come to hate, the man who had forced her and the newborn twins from safety in Aramane. A shapeshifter, they said. What if they were wrong?

Jared gave the order for Yvan to be removed. He was pulled around to be dragged towards cells. But her bow was in her hand, and one of the arrows plucked from Varn in her fingertips. It took the Skyrider a heartbeat to draw the string and set the arrow deep into the throat of her former lover. The shaft buried, as it had been into her horse. Yvan’s eyes widened as he choked and gurgled on his own blood.

‘Enough,’ she said simply, as though he were a child refusing to sleep. She turned then to the Baron. Her gaze and fury meeting his expression.

‘I don’t answer to you, Warrick,’ the woman warned, her voice loud and clear. She threw down her bow so that it clattered on the frozen cobbles, and turned to leave. Intending to be somewhere of use, trying to patch up those still on the battlefield.

Yvan dropped forward, the guards who held him pulled by the weight.

‘Le’Sark, you can heal?’ One of them looked up with an order.

Emily looked between Yvan, Jared and the retreating back of her friend. ‘No,’ she answered.

‘You can’t?’

‘I won’t,’ she replied and turned on her heel to follow her friend.

Yvan coughed and his blood met Jared’s boots. The baron turned and looked about to find Elyna guilty of stealing a life that had not been hers to take. He stood for a moment, pinned to the spot by disbelief.

“That may be so, my queen,” Jared said, loud enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear, “but even a queen must answer to the people.”

It was then, as Jared stepped away from the butcher that Malcolm came into sight, lost to the small crowd of nobles and captains that had gathered to witness the butcher being dragged in. He moved forward and held his hand to the man’s throat, fingers already glowing white. Some gasped while others whispered—to see the regent using magic—unthinkable.

The arrow was removed and Yvans throat closed up. “You can’t help yourself,” Yvan coughed, the words only clear to the three close enough to hear them. “This is the third time you’ve saved me from certain death. Personally, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you!”

Malcolm bent down and whispered. “You don’t get to go easy. I’ll take your son from you first, just like you took mine.”

Yvan tried to shrug free of his captors but was rushed to his feet and jerked backwards. “I’ll kill you first!” He hissed at Malcolm, “you’re a dead man, Malcolm Bennett! I’ll come for you and everything you love! I’ll kill you!”

A murmur went through the crowd, most of them certain the king had said something to upset the man, though none could be sure. Yvan was dragged away, kicking at the ground while he screamed bloody murder, making his threats and promises, most of which fell on deaf ears.

Malcolm looked at Elyna, his mouth forming a hard line across his face. She had put him in a difficult position and he hated that they weren’t united in justice. She had taken the law into her own hands, making her no better than Yilmaz himself. He followed the guards to make sure Yvan was locked up tight.

Jared returned to the field to check on Varn. There were so few dragon riders left in Renmere, and even fewer dragons. Each was a gift in his mind. He watched as one of the healers packed a nasty wound with healing herbs and wrapped the limb to keep it clean. “I want two guards posted here all night,” Jared ordered, “no one is to come near this creature.”

Benjamin, having squashed his anger for now, followed Malcolm to the cells, too curious not to. Where had his brother been all this time? They almost walked into one another as Malcolm turned to leave the cell block, taking the only set of keys with him.

“Ben… sorry,” Malcolm said.

“No—I’m sorry,” Ben told him. “I shouldn’t have ignored you earlier, I was angry… I—“

“What’s done is—“

“No—“ Ben interrupted, “there is no excuse, I shouldn’t have ignored you like that.”

“War is a tense time, brother.”

“I’m sorry. I know you trust me, I—“

Malcolm embraced the man. Ben squeezed him. “Are the children safe?” Ben asked.

“They are with Roland and Heath. I would sleep better knowing they were with you…”

Ben lowered his head, ashamed he had walked away that morning. “It turns out I was a lot of use here. Malcolm…”

The man looked up from the keys in his hands. “What is it?”

“You need to go to her.”

Malcolm frowned. “I’m angry,” he admitted. “She brought death to our door and now this.”

“Pavoo will explain everything,” Ben said. “I’ve already spoken with him.”

Malcolm nodded, “where is he?”

“Warrick House.”


It was another two hours before the servants had the room and energy to serve a meal that night. The grand dining table had been turned into a serving line with troops from everywhere lining up to take a helping of stew and bread. The bread ran out quickly, but there was more than enough stew to feed them all. Benjamin didn’t ask what the meat was, though he suspected it might be horse as it looked a little darker than beef and the fat was yellow.

He carried two bowls with a piece of bread in each to Emily and Elyna before making a second pass for himself. Malcolm and Jared were still outside tending to the wounded and would be for some time, the knight had reported. “You need to rest,” Benjamin encouraged before lowering his voice, “he will come to you.”

Pavoo came in and wiped his brow, his gaze weary. The journey alone has been taxing on the old baron, but the battle was too much. He accepted a plate from one of the servants and bid his daughter goodnight before heading to the room that Jared had invited him to make use of during his stay.


Time seemed to move to a crawl as the night grew later and later. Most had retired to their rooms, now closer to dawn than it was the midnight hour. Malcolm had help removing his chainmail and plate before washing up. The metal seemed to hold him where he stood and once free of it, it felt almost like he might float away.

Malcolm dressed in white thermals after a bath before pulling a black tunic over top. He stepped into a pair of slippers and went up the main staircase to the second floor of the manor in search of Elyna’s room. He slicked his hair back from his face, about the length of his hand, it flicked and curled at the ends. “Here?” He asked the maid, who nodded as she passed.

Malcolm knocked on the door before stepping inside, the heavy oak pushed closed behind him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about finally facing her, numb he supposed, after the day's events. From what Ben had told him, Elyna had seen battle and Yvan had confirmed as much.

“Elyna?” Malcolm called, his tone gentle, he didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep.

Jared’s reply was enough to see the woman pause in her steps. Elyna looked back over her shoulders, features tight with contempt. Her gaze only lifted to land on the man behind him. Malcolm was healing Yvan. Of course he was. She held her position, fingertips twitching to try again, hopefully killing the Butcher more permanently. How many more would Yvan kill as a result of this? How many would suffer because he lived?

Elyna watched Malcolm until he met her gaze. At which point she turned and continued her way out of the gates. A final check on Varn before stepping back onto the battlefield, Emily silent at her side.

Elyna worked till her friend pulled her back into the house to eat. The large room looked different with all of its finery stripped away. Beside the tribesman, Elyna dropped onto a chair and wasn’t sure if she would ever stand again. She pushed her fingers through the front of her hair, closing her eyes for just a moment. She must have dozed like that, head in her hands because the next she knew Ben set a bowl beside her, whispering his encouragement.

Elyna laughed to herself as the man departed, the sound delayed by her exhaustion.

‘What’s so funny?’ Emily was eating furiously and gestured that Elyna made a start. The Burhan tried, realizing too late just how hungry she was.

‘He’ll come to see me,’ Elyna giggled, then shook her head.

‘Why is that funny?’ Emily wasn’t laughing.

‘Because I don’t want to see him.’

‘You do!’

‘I don’t,’ she dismissed the idea with a wave of her spoon.

‘You do!’

‘I do not!’ Elyna ate quickly, ripping her bread in two to share with Kyan.

‘Then why cross the world, Ely? Why come back?’

‘Because my country was at war. Because I’m a Skyrider and a Noble…because they didn’t deserve to be held in prison.’

‘Stop being ridiculous!’

‘I’m not,’ done, she set her spoon down.

Elyna had tried to refuse a bath, certain that the servants had better things to do with their time. But in the end she had been too tired to fight hard. The warm water felt good against the ache throughout her body. The largest bruise stretched from her neck to hip down her back and side, where her horse had thrown her. Her arms were a sight of bruises still to come and develop over the next few days.

She dressed in a shirt and clean breaches, a robe of dark blue wool pulled over the top and left unfastened. What time was it? She felt taut with nerves and uncertainty. Refusing the bed, Elyna sat in an armchair by the window. A knife held gently in her palm as she watched the fire. Her feet drawn onto the seat. The blade slowly spun between her fingers. Alone, she waited. Elyna hadn’t expected Kyan to accept a room of his own, but Emily had insisted that for tonight, he shared hers next door. Liam had looked bemused but made no comment.

The door opened and the King slipped through the shadows. Elyna looked him over as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light and closed the door behind him.

‘Why are you here?’ She broke the silence.

Malcolm kept a hand on the heavy iron ring of the door. It seemed Elyna was not done fighting for the day. He was quiet for a moment, struggling to digest the loaded question. So she hated him, he thought. He had been locked up in prison instead of chasing her and Yvan to the ass-end of Noar. There was suspicion on both sides of the fence, and neither were willing to cross into the unknown. But he was here and determined to try. It would have been all too easy to bite back, to answer venom with venom, but they had been too long apart and Malcolm didn’t want to waste another second on anger or resentment, on ifs and maybes.

“I’m here to make sure you are all right. I want to ask after our children. I want to hold my wife tonight after wondering for too many nights if that would ever be possible again.”

The dim light and the way Elyna sat made her look very worn out, like her bones were made of lead. He wasn’t surprised given the day's events, but he sensed something more, as if her very soul was fed up. He would not admit how it cut him, to think that she was not pleased to be in his presence once more. Their love was a flame just as easily extinguished as it had been lit, suffocated by the weight of their responsibilities and history. In some ways they were so similar, but in others, they just didn’t see eye to eye. Elyna was noble and had spent her life pretending to be anything but. For Malcolm, it had been the reverse.

Now the title of king lay at his feet once more and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to pick it up. “I’m too tired to fight you, Elyna. Please,” he said, holding his arms open to her, “I can’t bear to be apart from you any longer.”

His words fell heavily between them. The pulse in her neck flickered, as though suddenly awakened once more. Who was the man that had come to visit in the darkness? The King? A soldier? A man who wanted to hold his wife. Elyna found herself looking at the floor, the dark chasm between them. That was perhaps the man she knew least. A King upheld certain rules and etiquette, a King was a king, no matter what body he inhabited.

Elyna felt as though she were breaking, her hands shook as she set the blade aside and stood. The young woman drew her robe around herself, holding it close. Malcolm had asked for such simple things. She felt like a monster to deny him. He held his arms open and she took tentative steps towards him. Only to stop at arm's length.

‘T-they told me recently that it was a shapeshifter in Aramane,’ the woman spoke slowly, struggling to form the words. ‘I-I find it so hard to believe…if you and Jared want me dead, want our children removed from your lineage…just tell me Malcolm. Tell me and I’ll be gone with this night and you’ll never have to see me again.’ Her face was wet with tears, she tried wiping them, but more fell just as quickly in their place.

The accusation made his heart squeeze. How could she think that of him, that he didn’t want her and their children? Malcolm closed the gap between them. If she would not come to him then he would go to her. Malcolm pulled Elyna into his embrace and was speechless. How long had she felt this way, allowing the thought to poison any memory of them, of what had passed—of what could still be.

“I found Jared myself, there is no way he had a hand in this.”

He realised she was crying and his arms tightened around her. “Elyna… I would never do anything to harm you or our children.” His fingers went through her hair. “You can’t believe that—have I ever done anything to lead you to believe me capable of such?”

It hurt to think that she could have misjudged him, that she doubted what they had, what they were trying to build together. He took a breath, turning his gaze to the moonlit sky through the window behind the chair. She was alive, tonight, that was enough. He didn’t need any answers, his doubts could wait.

“Please tell me they are both well?”

His arms went around her and Elyna felt as though all the strings that had been keeping her, were cut. She buried herself against the man, one arms quick to fasten around his waist as she cried, trying to hide her features with her free hand. This was so embarrassing, but the woman didn’t know if she could stop.

There were answers that she could give to his questions, but the woman couldn’t find the breath to express them. She could only cry, the flood of tears that had been building since his absence in Blaze. All of her fears that had gathered, finally allowed space to surface.

They moved, to sit on the edge of the bed and she pushed her hair from her eyes. Tucking it behind her eyes. Elyna nodded to herself.

‘They are well,’ she forced herself to answer, though why did it feel like a betrayal? She had spent so long protecting her children, guarding their little lives that it felt strange to extend that trust to their father. She edged back on the bed, bare feet hanging over the edge. ‘They’re…’ she swallowed, ‘they’re safe…I…once its safe here…then I’ll bring them to you,’ she promised quietly. Though it wasn't an idea she was comfortable with.

Her cheeks were raw with salt, the woman drew another uneasy breath and crossed the room to splash her features. There was something about Malcolm that dominated the space. Now finally, with her tears spent, she was exhausted in mind and spirit. She lingered on the far side of the room before making her slow return. Easing back onto the bed she sat beside her husband, shoulder to shoulder.

‘Are you…’ Elyna wet dry lips, ‘are you well? Emily said you were imprisoned…’

Elyna didn’t trust him with their children—that’s what this all boiled down to. She was keeping them in hiding, something he knew was best and yet it still stung more than she could know. The woman rose and crossed the room and Malcolm was on his feet again, unsure if he should follow. When finally she returned, he joined her on the bed and as she inquired about his health, he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her in against his chest.

There was a new scar below his right collarbone and a fresh wound on his left side that had been wrapped following his bath. His heartbeat was steady, if not a little fast. A few moments of silence in the dark beside her soon saw it slow. He thought back to his time in the prisons of Andaris and swallowed. His fingertips were still misshapen where they had shrunken around the nail-bed, the tiny stubs for nails still growing out. When they had taken his tooth, he had only been thankful that it had been from the back and not in his smile line.

“All three of us,” he said. “Were it not for Le’Sark, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t be sitting here today.” He owed her his life twice over.

Malcolm wanted to ask what had happened, wanted to know every little detail, but there was time for that, when Elyna was ready. He drew his fingers over the back of her hand and looked out at the window again.

“Did he hurt you?” Malcolm asked.

It was too easy to curl up against the man. To rest her head against his shoulder and close her eyes. Whatever adrenaline had kept her awake so late into the night, was fading fast. It would be better to shut out the image of Malcolm and Ben and Jared rotting in cells beneath the palace. It would be better to shut out the day and pretend that these things had never happened.

“Did he hurt you?” Malcolm asked as his fingers trailed against her hand.

Knowing she would never find the words to explain, the woman simply shook her head. Not physically. Yvan hadn’t wounded her, he hadn’t forced himself upon her. There were a thousand things that he hadn’t done, but his actions had hurt in other ways. Elyna let out an uneasy breath.

‘There was a temple Maiden…’ the tears were quick to burn the back of her eyes again, ‘she kept them alive with her magic…I…I can’t even remember her name.’ Elyna admitted and felt wretched for it. ‘She died because I tried to…’ She turned her face into his tunic, shaking her head again. The girl had given her life, and Elyna couldn’t even honor that memory. So much of the time had been spent drugged, or desperately struggling to survive. Even in the safety of her husband’s arms the girl began to shake. It had been a day of so much bloodshed and death, of fire and ice and the ever present threat of their reunion. Whatever calm she’d managed to find for herself in her memories of Emanys, had been stripped away.

‘Edmund betrayed us,’ She spoke softly once the tears had passed again. ‘And Owen?’ it was the second name that she struggled to believe even more than the first. She couldn’t understand how the young men could betray their families. ‘Owen tried to kill me,’ she was incredulous as she wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks, ‘if it hadn’t been for Kyanite I…’

‘Kyanite…he’s chief of the tribe that found us in the grasslands. Mal…I owe him everything. He and his wife, they took us in, fed us, clothed us and kept us safe.’

“Who?” Malcolm asked. He had not forgotten his brother’s betrayal, but some things were too painful to dwell on.

Elyna explained who the man was and Malcolm replied. “Then I should like to meet Kyanite and thank him in person. We will have to make the trip together one day.”

He turned to look at her. “I’m so glad you’re safe, truly. I’m sorry if I seemed cold out there this evening. What you did to Yilmaz… Elyna you have to know that is wrong? That is not who we are—not who you are. You’re the queen of Renmere. You—“ Malcolm paused, she did not deserve to be lectured. Her actions on the battlefield had bought them all enough time to see their plans to fruition and win them the day.

“He won’t get away with this,” Malcolm promised. “Once we hunt down Thomas… Marcus will have no allies left.”

Elyna tilted her head to the side, a smile started to form at the corners of her mouth as she thought to let Malcolm know he wouldn’t have to travel to Emanys to thank Kyanite. Though the gesture was just as quick to fade. Even after everything they’d been through, even though he was pleased she was alive, even as he was holding her, he needed to make his displeasure known.

She swallowed the words on her tongue and watched the man impassively. The woman eased away from the man and the comfort he had provided. Features drawn together she moved across the room once more. Peering out of the window as the first touches of dawn threatened the horizon. It was still an hour or so off, as daylight struggled to throw off the darkness of Frost.

Being honest with herself, Elyna knew that it had been lucky she’d not been holding two arrows when she’d shot Yvan. The second could have quite happily found its target in the Baron of Warrick. It sounded like Jared speaking through Malcolm, warning his dear friend of the danger the queen presented. A woman who must be warned of her actions, bought to heel.

Elyna drew her robe around herself again, cold in the room where the fire had long since died out. ‘Yvan could escape, if he does he’ll kill again. He would kill my children, endanger their lives, he could kill Vaughn.’ She shrugged as she studied the window pane. ‘Why keep an angry viper in a basket, and be surprised when it causes chaos and breaks free?’ She shook her head, ‘and if he doesn’t escape, if he goes on trial? Who will suffer most from that?’ She looked back at Malcolm then, ‘whose secrets will he spew in order to save his life? To make his bargains and pleas?’ She lifted her head a little, knowing that the birds were coming home to roost. She had made her mistakes, and year on year she would be forced to pay for the innocence of youth. Yvan could, and would destroy her reputation and tarnish the Kings’ standing in one breath. And Malcolm would let him. Malcolm would ensure that the Butcher had his day in court.

‘I was seventeen Malcolm,’ she blinked quickly and turned away from the man before she could cry again. She’d been vulnerable with the man perched on the bed, and that had been rewarded with the promise of more pain. ‘He took everything from me, and you…you’ll let him do it all again. I’ll have to live it all again…and everyone will know…’ and what happened when they demanded he have a more suitable wife? When a Queen was painted with scandal and labeled the Butchers’ Whore?

‘If he escapes,’ Elyna forced herself to keep breathing, even if she could no longer look away from the window and the devastated ground beyond the walls, ‘if he escapes, I’ll kill Jared myself.’

This time he did follow, though he allowed the woman her space. Twice he almost interrupted, but bit his tongue. It was her final words that made him take a step back from her. “By all reports, you had every opportunity to kill him on the battlefield, but you spared him—why?”

Malcolm’s heart sped up as he made an accusation. “You wanted an audience. I’m not sure if that’s youth or pride, or something else. No one would have questioned coming across his dead body in the field. You needed a show. What I can’t understand is why? To win over your father’s leaderless army or to undermine the baron in public?” Malcolm moved to the door only to pause as he took hold of the handle.

“You can’t kill a man to hide the things about yourself you’re ashamed of… and you certainly can’t threaten the life of a nobleman… an innocent man who has been nothing but kind and welcoming to you, and expect me not to act.”

What was the point in explaining that coming across Yvan in the courtyard had been a step too far on an exhausting day. That she’d been overwhelmed with the fear of his escape, of the danger he posed to her family. That her gaze had narrowed and all the world had gone dark around her. She’d been as aware of an audience, as she was aware of the grass beneath her feet. He left her no space for regret and with all her sorrow spent in his arms, Elyna turned away.

Elyna looked back over her shoulder at the man. It had been too much to expect any kind of understanding from the man. Any reassurance regarding her dirty secrets. She cringed at his confirmation. ‘I’m sure you and Jared will take whatever actions you deem best,’ she replied quietly.

The sun was a thin golden line on the horizon, not an hour after Elyna had last seen Malcolm. There was an abrupt knock at the door and Emily stepped in, looking as if she had fallen out of bed in a great hurry. “They are rounding up the Burhan troops?” She said, confused. “Pavoo is already outside. Benjamin came to warn me. Elyna what’s going on?”

The woman went to the window, still in her night dress, her hair a wild, untamed thing on her head. Emily combed it back from her face and tied it up in a messy bun. “I’m going to get dressed and wake the others. Elyna, I have a bad feeling about this.”


Outside Jared’s men were lining up along the courtyard in full regalia, a wall of black, red and gold. Every man held a spear and stood with a short bow strung to his back, making sure the troops of Burhan were ushered together in the square. Oxen were led into the yard towing wagons which were then loaded with wounded Burhan soldiers, too poorly to travel on foot.

“What is the meaning of this!” Pavoo bellowed, “you can’t throw us out in the middle of the night! We’ve no ships to return home on.” His words turned to mist on the frozen air, like weary phantoms floating about with nowhere to go.

“After the actions of your people and the threats made by individuals from your direct family, House Warrick has decided that it is in our best interests to send you home sooner rather than later,” Jared said.

Pavoo looked confused. “Malcolm, your grace… you can’t agree with this?”

Malcolm didn’t look like a man who had not slept for three days, standing in a tunic of black and gold, his long sword hung from his left hip, a dagger on his right. His boots were polished and his unruly curls slicked back from his face. “It is not my decision to make,” he said with an air of calm Pavoo found difficult to interpret.

“Elyna!” Pavoo said, “speak to him, make him see sense! We will die out there in the mud and snow. We can’t get home without ships! Does he really expect us to cross through enemy land? They’ve stripped us of our weapons!”

Emily, dressed in her leathers and blue garb, realised she too was left with only a dagger. “No?” She mouthed in disbelief, unprepared for the road. “We don’t have any supplies! This is madness!”

Elyna hadn’t managed to find sleep, in the brief half break of time before Emily tumbled into her room. She dressed silently, looking up to wave at Kyanite in greeting. Sure that the tribesman must find the whole situation as bizarre as she did. Her sense of dread crew with every passing second as she pulled on her clothes and cloak, pushing her feet into her boots. She carried her armor with her, dropping it onto the cobblestones as she turned to survey the sight before her.

Her gaze fixed on Jared before moving back to Malcolm, she searched for Benjamin among the advisors but couldn’t quite place him.

‘This is my fault,’ the woman explained to her father, loud enough for the troops of Burhan to hear. Emily moved close to her friend as Elyna signed the words to Kyan in explanation. She knew what it was like, not to know the language when your life depended on it.

‘A private conversation, and fear that my husband felt the need to share so desperately.’ Elyna continued as her gaze fixed on Malcolm. She looked back over the troops, so many wounded on carts. How would she keep her Father alive in the wilderness between Warrick and Krome? Would they even be welcomed there? It was a long way back home to Burhan in Frost.

She approached Jared with her hands held at her side, moving so that she didn’t need to shout at the man to speak with him, but knowing it would be a fool's gambit to stray too close. This wasn’t Malcolm’s decision, although she was sure he must have sanctioned it. Neither Lion nor Wolf ever acted alone.

‘Baron Warrick,’ Elyna had the grace to bend her head in a bow, ‘The man and woman of Burhan came to the aid of their King. They defended the walls of Warrick and have given their blood in that defense. I beg of your pity, please. Please don’t cast them into the wilderness…I’ll leave in peace. I’ll leave and not look back.’ She promised and looked across at Malcolm. He’d denied wanting her dead, yet here they were.

Malcolm met the woman’s gaze until she spoke to the masses, then refused to acknowledge her again.

“Elyna!” Pavoo shouted, had she doomed them all to death in the snow over a spat with her husband she was now making public? The Baron of Burhan followed the king as he moved to leave the courtyard, “please, your grace, have mercy!” He, unlike his daughter, knew not to raise his voice and invite the wrath of the crowd.

Jared was not too proud to address the woman. “You came here with hopes to catch the men and women of Warrick unaware. When you realised those hopes were dashed, you abandoned your agreement with Yilmaz and his betters and changed sides, but not without inflicting as much death and confusion as you could beforehand. Yilmaz has given his confession, as has your brother, Edmund. Whatever quarrel you have with the king is none of my business. As for your personal vendetta against me, it would not sway me either way. That comes from pain I played no role in dealing, and I do not pretend to know your heart.”

“No, my lord!” Emily protested, “it’s not true! You can not believe the words of a murderer over a daughter of a noble birth?”

“On the contrary,” Jared said, “those who conspire in the shadows have no voice here. A signed scroll was discovered amongst your brother's belongings promising title and land to him upon victory against House Warrick.” The baron looked from Emily to Elyna then. “I wonder if you can explain why your grandfather also signed it? Your troops were Edmund’s all along, with his blessing.”

Elyna was stunned by the revelation, she looked from Jared to Pavoo without understanding. Her Grandfather had conspired against Malcolm? Whatever color had returned to her features during her time in Emanys had fled in the cold morning, leaving her pale and wan. Her legs felt strange beneath her, as though no longer able to support her weight. It was Emily who looped an arm around her friend’s waist, recognising how unbalanced the world was. Blame was something Elyna had been willing to accept. But treachery was something she couldn’t fight against. It came from all directions.

‘I…I have no part in their treacherous games,’ Elyna held Emily’s arm for support. She searched Baron’s expression, but as she hadn’t expected compassion from her Husband, she expected it even less from the Lion. What could she do but beg for the lives of the Burhan fighters? For her Father. Elyna didn’t fear survival in the wilderness for herself, but the thought of trying to keep a troop alive without preparations, with so many injured, was overwhelming. The burden heavy on her shoulders. She knew that she should find the strength and courage to walk out of the Keep with her head held high in defiance. But at that moment, couldn't find her resolve.

‘Please…please don’t punish those who have served faithfully,’ Jared said that his personal view of her made no difference, yet it was how things felt. Especially as he had said he was taking this action because of threats made against him. The threat she could only assume had been hers. Would the same actions be undertaken if she’d not made her threat to Malcolm? If the King wasn’t angry with her? She didn’t think so.

‘Throw me in the cells, whatever will curb your pride Warrick…hasn’t there been enough death?’ Surely he would expect that such treatment of a noble household would give other noble families less cause to aid Warrick in future?

Had Malcolm known all about the scroll when he’d come to her? Had he been fishing for information? To see if she had betrayed him? Her legs shook anew, there could be no trust between them. Not if this was to be the price of honesty. The King was leaving and he would allow this to happen. His message was clear. There was nothing between them, she was nothing to him but the Butchers’ whore with dirty secrets.

“My pride?” Jared challenged, “I assure you, Lady Burhan, my opinion of myself has little to do with the decisions made by my family on this day. For you I have lost a daughter, a number of fine women and men, my stables, countless houses, and the love of my dearest friend. There is no vanity in wanting to protect what’s left.”

Emily blinked. So the king disagreed with Warrick’s decision, yet had no power to determine what went on in his house? “Lord Warrick, where is your compassion? You’re sending healthy people to certain death.”

Jared frowned. “Perhaps your allies in the east will show mercy.” He turned then and moved to help his men load up the last wagon with water and blankets.

Pavoo appeared from the manor and took his daughter’s hand. “We will not beg,” he said, head held high. He gave her hand a squeeze, desperate to speak to her, but not within earshot of the red cloaks. “Lord Warrick, House Burhan appreciates your generosity and wishes you nothing but the best in the ongoing war. Please send my regards to your mother.”

The oxen groaned as they were ushered forward under the threat of the lash. Pavoo led his daughter from the square without glancing backwards. They followed the wagons on foot until the village looked small behind them, headed northeast towards the valley.

Pavoo pressed a key into his daughter’s hand then. “We head for the ridge until nightfall,” he explained. There we will be met with a number of his majesty’s horses. Your husband has not forsaken us yet, my dear. Under the cover of darkness we will change course and find shelter in Mayce. From there I will write to my father and get to the bottom of this. In the meantime our troops will have all the time they need to recover.”

Emily looked back at the village. They would survive one day on foot, though she preferred their chances with horses. “We can take some of the tents pitched in Yvan’s false camp left in the valley, enough to get us up the mountain without any casualties.”

“But who will get us through the gate?” Liam asked.

Benjamin removed his hood. The blue uniform looked good on him, even if a little short in the leg and sleeve. “Leave that to me!” He smiled, prepared to walk to Mayce alongside them.

Kyanite glanced back at the city, unsure what had just gone down. He looked around, taking note of the concerned look on everyone’s faces. The warrior, more comfortable beyond the walls than trapped within, didn’t see a problem with being cast out. He already felt hot in the black thermals and blue tunic, his feet sweating in the socks and leather boots Emily had thrown at him upon their rude awakening. Though he had been able to do little more than doze, having been housed separate from Elyna, he appeared rested.

“What happened?” Emily asked, the words whispered to her friend. “I expected fighting last night, but I’ll admit I didn’t hear anything. Did Malcolm provoke this?”

Elyna had followed her Father without further protest, and without looking back. So this was it? Why had she returned to Renmere the woman wondered, what was it she had expected to find here?

The gates of Warrick slid closed with a bang. A final note of dull despair that echoed across the desolate grasslands beyond the walls. The earth still smelt of blood from the previous days. There were still belongings and bodies littering the grasses.

‘Oh Seven,’ Elyna whispered to Emily. Panic threatened to steal the air from her lungs but she held herself upright, her hand curled around her closest friends arm.

‘Just keep walking, one step at a time,’ Emily kept her own gaze fixed forward as the pair moved through the crowd of displaced soldiers, and the trio of carts filled with the wounded and dying.

Elyna concentrated on that. She couldn’t buckle and break in front of the soldiers. There were commanders and captains among them, but it wasn’t Pavoo that they would be following, it was her. The burden of their lives was a heavy one to bear, the responsibility for so many, when they only had the clothes on their back. If she let the weight crush her, then there would be no hope. None would make it through the Frost alive.

One step, one step, one step. Elyna forced herself forward as the ranks of soldiers fell into neat lines behind her.

Elyna just wanted to throw up.

‘I feel like I’m dying,’ she dared breathe to her friend. Emily squeezed her fingers.

‘Let’s not give them the satisfaction, eh?’ She feigned a cheerfulness and looked back at the faceless walls, confused by the callous treatment of the king and his right-hand man. She too, found it hard to accept that they had been turned out into the wilderness to face a certain death. ‘Bastards.’

With the village falling distant behind them, Elyna stared down at the key in her hand. Malcolm hadn’t agreed with Jared’s decision? She looked up as Emily threw her arms around Ben in a brief hug, pleased that the giant was there beside them.

Finding herself unable to speak Elyna followed her friend down towards the first of the tents. Emily was right, even with horses the tents would offer shelter from elements. It hadn’t yet snowed, but it would. She could smell it on the wind.

They worked fast to topple enough tents from Yvan’s false army to house the collection that had been put out from Warrick walls.

Fighting?

Elyna looked up at her friend and gave a shake of her head. ‘He was pleased I was alive, wanted to know if the children were okay…but mostly he was displeased I shot Yvan,’ she studied the length of coarse rope in her hands. ‘I needed to understand that it was wrong.’

‘You do know that…I know you do.’

‘Yes,’ Elyna started curling the rope into a coil, ‘I just…when I saw him, when I heard him…Em’ I just didn’t care anymore.’

‘Ely, you're exhausted.’ Emily bent, kicking pegs out the ground to slide into a bag that had been left behind. ‘We all say things we don’t mean, we act in ways we regret.’

Elyna shrugged, ‘I can't afford mistakes…especially not public ones.’

‘He hasn’t forsaken you,’ Emily looked back to the main body of troops as they skirted the ridge line heading East to Burhan and Mayce. Her gaze lingered on Ben.

‘Not yet…I’m not going to Mayce…’

Ten horses were led from the foothills to the valley, guided by the knights of Mayce, dressed in robes of black. Each horse carried a sack of rice, flour and oats, enough to feed both them and the troops of Burhan to the gates of Mayce.

“I don’t understand,” Pavoo said, “where is the king?”

“He couldn’t leave,” Benjamin answered, “it would arouse too much suspicion.”

Pavoo nodded. “Only ten horses?”

Ben smiled at Emily before looking across at the baron. “There are only fifty of our troops stationed in Warrick. No one has done a head count on horses following the battle, but many more and it might have looked—“

“—Suspicious,” Pavoo said. “I understand.”

It was Ben’s turn to nod. He ordered his men to unfasten the grain and load it up on the supply wagon. As they worked, troops settled into Yvan’s camp to spend the night. Pavoo had decided they would not start the climb to Mayce until first light.

Kyanite sat at the edge of camp, cross legged with his eyes closed. He focused on the wild esen in the area, pulling and shaping it about the camp in order to disguise them for the night, both from Warrick and any of Yvan’s fleeing army.

Ben walked up to a familiar mare and rubbed her neck. “Elyna,” he called, sure she would recognise the horse as Malcolm’s own. “Looks like someone sent you a gift.”

Tied to the mare’s saddle was a cloak made of wolf pelts. Malcolm was rarely seen without it. On the other side of the mare, Elyna’s quiver and bow hung from a strap. The case was packed loosely with fresh arrows.

“Is there a note?” Emily asked.

Ben lifted the saddle and looked about, but couldn’t find anything. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s still more than we had this morning,” she said.

“His majesty informed me he had plans to return to Mayce in early Bloom,” Pavoo said, “once Warrick was fortified and recovered.”

Elyna had been sat beside Kyan in the dusk. She had no ability to manipulate the wild Esen in the lands, but could feel the cords of it as the tribesmen worked. It felt familiar, comforting to be tied to the earth in that way. She stood quietly as she was summoned and made her way to the horses. Smiling as the mare butted against her palm. She caught the horse’s face between her hands and kissed its forelock. The mare could be temperamental, but she was reliable.

‘Thank you, Ben,’ Elyna smiled at the large man. She smoothed her fingers through the wolf pelts with a soft sigh. Then discovering her bow, nodded to herself. She looked up at the man, sure he was waiting for something, but found she had little to say.

‘Do you think…Ben do you have any concern that Malcolm might be at risk in Warrick? That Jared would ever stop him from leaving?’ She asked softly and waited for her answer.

The rest of the night passed quietly enough, with the camp hidden from view. They settled into a routine then, with horses and a few scavenged bows they had a better chance at traveling safely.

Finally they stopped in the curve of the mountain pass and the snow started falling. Elyna knew that Mayce was less than a half-days ride away, but with even starlight hidden by thick snow clouds, it was too far for the retinue to continue that night.

It was when the troops started moving out the next morning that Liam shouted his alarm.

‘She’s gone!’ His face was white with fear as he ran across the powdered snow to Emily, where she stood with Ben. The Skyrider seemed to struggle meeting the man’s gaze.

‘You knew!’ Liam accused.

‘I suspected… Elyna planned to set out with Kyan…’ Emily drew a breath, ‘they would have taken horses…Ben I’m sure she’s gone for the children…we never expected to be away from them for so long.’

The question was heavy and the giant found himself torn in his reply. Elyna had seen enough upset for now. “I can’t see anyone holding Malcolm for long,” he said. “His stubborn streak would soon see them sick of him.” Ben smiled, as if to make light of it all.

He traveled with them up the mountain, after all, he was their ticket inside, but Ben knew he had gone for a different reason. He found himself standing beside her the morning Elyna had fled, perhaps some time before dawn, while they all slept.

“Should someone go after her?” Benjamin asked, his gaze fixed on Emily.

The skyrider captain shook her head. “If she had wanted that, she would have asked. Besides, she’s got company,” Emily said.

“Is it wise for her to travel alone with that man?”

“Of course not!” Pavoo barked, stumbling out of his tent. “She is the queen of Renmere, she knows better than to gallivant off into the night alone.”

Emily bit her lip. “Are there any volareon in Mayce?”

“A handful,” Ben answered.

“I know where she went. I will take a pair and make sure she is safe.”

Pavoo pinned Emily with a look. “In that case I ask that you ride ahead with Ser Beaumont and see to it that you set out right away. We don’t know who our friends are anymore, I don’t want Elyna or my grandchildren falling into the wrong hands.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Emily agreed.

She moved toward her mount, shadowed by the giant. When she looked back, Liam stood with his arms crossed, looking aside. Emily waved, not sure he had seen her. “Let’s go,” she said.

Ben climbed onto his horse and agreed with a nod. “This way,” he told her, “I know a shortcut.”