Home > The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game #3)(29)

The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game #3)(29)
Author: Jennifer A. Nielsen

Or if anything should be done. The corruption might be all I had to survive the night. It gave me strength, and courage, and assured me I was doing the right thing.

It had lied to me, and in turn, I was lying to everyone else. But if there was a way back now, I didn’t know it.

Suddenly, Joth stopped his horse, holding up an arm to get my attention. He looked over at me, communicating with gestures that we were being watched.

I withdrew the Olden Blade and began surveying the area, searching for any sign of who might be nearby. It was late by now, and the snowfall was heavier than before. Nobody would be out here tonight without good reason.

Then I saw it, a slight movement of a cloak on a road to my left. A row of homes was between us, and our watcher was hiding behind the last of them.

Or watchers … was there more than one?

I gestured to Joth and Darrow that we should continue riding forward, staying ready for anything that might come without leaving ourselves in a position vulnerable to attack. They agreed, and we continued riding, now in a straight line along the narrow street. I rode in the center.

We rounded a corner and stopped. Immediately, my pulse began to race. Gabe was astride his horse in the middle of the road, his eyes trained on me. I straightened up in my saddle and stared with equal coldness, trying to assess how serious a threat he was. His sword was sheathed, and though he had a disk bow within easy reach, his hands were on the horse’s reins.

“We want to talk with you, Kestra,” he said. “Just you.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed at him.

But he shook his head. “Agree to speak with me and we can whisper. Until then—”

Before he finished, sounds behind us alerted us to another approaching horse and rider. I turned back to see Harlyn there. But unlike Gabe, she held her disk bow ready, the same one that had already shot me once.

“We won’t hurt you, Kestra.” Harlyn’s conversation opener was rather interesting, considering that the disk bow was armed. “But we need to talk.”

“Have you considered that Kestra is far more capable of hurting you?” Joth called to them. “Save yourselves and let us pass.”

Gabe said, “Kestra, please—”

“Hush!” I looked up to the skies, certain I had heard a fluttering noise. Was it Simon, on that dragon of his?

Joth had heard it too—I could tell from the way he was looking up—but Darrow had angled his horse to keep an eye on Harlyn, and Gabe still seemed to be trying to get my attention.

After a moment’s silence, Gabe spoke again. “We only want to help you succeed tonight.”

“Then why have you followed us in secret?” Darrow said, still watching Harlyn. “You come with weapons in hand and ask my daughter to trust you?”

“Daughter?” Harlyn was only temporarily caught off her guard before she added, “Sir, ask your daughter about the dozens of Ironhearts she killed only a few days ago, after they had surrendered. Ask about her plans to take Endrick’s place on the throne once this is over, perhaps after having absorbed his magic into herself.”

“Stop!” I whispered, and tears formed in my eyes. Maybe because of her lies.

Maybe because it was all truth.

Either way, she had to stop.

Seeing that she had found a way to truly wound me, Harlyn continued. “You may call her your daughter now, but be warned, sooner or later she will betray you too, if it benefits her.”

Again I heard wings fluttering overhead, but I no longer had it in me to say anything. If that was Simon above us, then he probably already believed everything Harlyn was saying anyway.

Harlyn drew in a breath to speak further, but Gabe called out her name and said, “Run!”

It was too late. That hadn’t been Simon. Instead, one of Endrick’s condors swooped down from above, its talons grabbing Harlyn and lifting her from her horse. She tried to kick herself free but dropped her disk bow in the process. Gabe reached for his own bow, but before he could act, two more condors flew in, their riders launching fire pellets at the ground. As the pellets exploded, each of us scattered. Gabe fled one way as we rode in the other direction.

Joth and Darrow gathered on either side of me, and one condor circled overhead. The road we were on had become too narrow for the enormous bird to reach us, but its rider fired disks at us.

Finally, Darrow shouted, “Ride on!” I saw he had his disk bow ready and armed, and he had turned his horse to be directly in line with the condor.

“Stay with us!” I called, but Joth grabbed one end of my reins and pulled my horse along with him.

We rode into a thatch-roof market, empty at this time of night, but with rows of stalls to hide and protect us.

“We must go back and help my father,” I said.

“Your father is helping you, as he should,” Joth said. “At least the condors took care of one of our enemies.”

My heart sank. Was Harlyn an enemy to me? I supposed she was.

But I felt no relief from knowing where she was headed now, and certainly no joy. I only redoubled my grip on the reins, pulling them away from Joth, and said, “Let’s get to the palace. We’re running out of time.”

 

 

I waited inside Woodcourt for two hours until the night had become colder. Then, with the help of a couple of younger Coracks, I walked out toward the stables with a vessel of hot cider and a stack of firewood.

After dismissing the Coracks, I built a fire directly outside the stables. I expected the members of the cavalry were watching me from wherever they were surely huddled together, battling their pride.

Once the fire roared to life, I poured two cups of cider and walked with them into the stables. Sure enough, the soldiers were clustered together in groups, shivering beneath their thin blankets.

I took a sip of the cider and looked around the room directly at each man or woman to be sure they knew I’d come. No one spoke a word, but they all were staring at me and most had a hand on whatever weapon was nearest to them.

Loud enough for them all to hear, I said, “It is true that I am not Halderian. But it is also true that the father of my birth fought alongside you or your fathers in the War of Devastation, and there he gave his life. I had the rare honor of gaining a second father, though I was three years in his home before I learned that he was the exiled Halderian king. Before his execution at the order of Lord Endrick, Gareth gave me his ring and his sword, naming me as his heir. Ever since that day, I’ve known who I was and what I was supposed to do, but I refused to claim the throne for the very reasons you have objected to me. Do you think any of your complaints are a surprise? Did you think I expected you would embrace me as your king? But I am your king, and I am Halderian now. My first father earned that for me with his blood, my second father gave that to me with his inheritance, and I will claim it from you in these coming days when we fight together on the battlefield. Whether I will live for you, or die for you, I swear on the lives of my fathers that I will lead you in the best way I can.”

With that, I continued looking around the room until I saw a girl who might’ve been a couple of years younger than me. She was thin and her face was dirty, but her eyes held a spark in them that had responded to my words.

I walked over to the girl. “What is your name?”

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