Page 79 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“Lisinder’s line is many. You’re probably the embarrassing mistake of some distant cousin shipped off to the Seelie to hide their shame. That doesn’t give you the right to roam our land.” Kasgill draws his blade, and the others follow suit.

I look to Ruskin. He could settle this in a moment by telling them exactly who they’re dealing with, but while he may have hoped claiming some relation to Lisinder would allow us to pass, he won’t go so far as to announce to the world that the prince of Seelie is here. He’d rather solve this with his sword.

I draw my blade, summoning my magic at the same time.

Then the Unseelie charge.

Chapter 24

Idisarm one of them before they reach Ruskin. They may be High Fae, but I trained with Halima and a High King. In comparison to them, it’s not too difficult to yank the blade from the grip of a redheaded fae with a jaw like a battering ram. He goes comically slack-faced for a moment, trying to understand how Ruskin managed this without lifting a finger, then his face contorts in rage and he pulls a knife from a brace at his thigh.

Kasgill goes straight for Ruskin, their swords colliding with a violent clashing sound.

“Get the girl!” he grunts at the redhead. His lackey obediently charges towards me, knife raised, but then his horse squeals and I see a thin root tugging at its foreleg. It’s nothing like the huge trunks Ruskin had springing out of the ground in our training practices, but I remember we’re not in Seelie anymore, and his magic has to be simpler here, not to mention discreet—his power is fairly recognizable, after all.

It’s enough, however. The horse rears up, throwing the redhead. Antlers is close behind him, her blond hair whipping behind her as her horse leaps over her fallen friend. She levels her sword at me and I put the force of my magic into mine to parry her powerful blow. My horse backs up a few steps, neighing unhappily, and I release one hand to grab nervously at the reins. We never practiced fighting on horseback, and I feel too unsteady.

That’s when I see the silver rings glinting in her braids.

Pretty, I think, then wrap my magic around them and pull.

Her head snaps back and she screams, scrabbling at her braids with her hand, trying to understand what force is wrenching at them, ripping them out by the roots. It means she’s not exactly concentrating on her sword, and I release my hold on the rings just as I seize the bronze of the blade, sending it spinning upwards.

It arcs through the air and I aim the tip downwards, slicing towards the redheaded fae still trying to right himself after falling from his horse. Just as he eases himself up onto his elbows, the sword pierces through his shoulder and pins him to the ground. He releases an agonized groan.

I glance over to see the fourth fae prone beside where Ruskin is still sparring with Kasgill. He’s taken care of one, and I can see he has the long-haired Kasgill on the back foot, leaving a cut across his cheek and blood dripping from his side.

“Kas!” The blonde female urges her horse towards him, tugging on his arm as if to draw him away from the fight. Ruskin pulls his sword up, allowing his opponent to back away, but Kasgill looks furious.

“Kas, we cannot beat them,” the blonde says, yanking on his arm so hard I think she might pull it from its socket.

“Death before dishonor,” Kasgill snarls.

“Unless you can show me the honor in all four of us dying because you picked a fight with someone we don’t even know, then shut up,” she bites back. Kasgill looks startled for a second, but then he seems to finally take in the state of his friends. With visible reluctance, he allows her to lead his horse back up the track.

Ruskin gallops towards me, taking the reins from my hands.

“We should leave.”

I can see we’ve reached a kind of stalemate, with two Unseelie lying prone between us and their friends, but I don’t understand why Ruskin isn’t chasing them off. The blonde herself just acknowledged we were winning, but Ruskin’s dragging my horse in the opposite direction.

I glance over my shoulder. Kasgill still looks seconds away from charging at us for a second time, but there’s a spark of relief on the blonde’s face as we ride away.

I turn to Ruskin.

“What was all that about?”

“The Unseelie find it almost impossible to back down from a fight,” Ruskin says. “It’s not in their culture. By leaving first we are doing everyone a favor. We don’t have the added complication of leaving murdered Unseelie in our wake, and they don’t have to finish a fight they’ve realized they’d lose.”

“So what now?” I ask. “They just go on their merry way?”

“It depends how much of a threat they believe us to be and how often they frequent the court. Since I’ve said I’m of royal blood, they might not think anyone needs to be warned of our presence.”

“And if they do decide to warn the king?”

“Then we need to reach the court before news of us does.”

We ride on at a faster pace. After several hours I’m dreaming of the time when I’m no longer trapped in this saddle. The mountains loom up around us, forming a tight wall of pocked stone. Eventually I can pick out more than just crags and seams in the rock. There are architectural features: windows, cloisters, and balconies.

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