Page 130 of An Archer's Reckoning

The horses, especially Dittler, were restless after hours trapped on a boat that never ceased its dancing. After a bit of cajoling, we mounted and set off for Saltstone, determined to let the horses loosen stiff muscles while edging closer to home.

A couple of hours after midnight, Atikus was near to falling off his mare, so I called a halt. We had made good time across gentle land and now camped only a few hundred yards from the road that led to the capital.

The sky bled yellow and orange when I next woke.

Winter’s grip was still strong, and a frigid air whistled from the coast across the land. Thankfully, the day was clear and bright, lifting my spirits for the first time since we left the cave.

“You cooking anything for breakfast?” Atikus stared through slitted eyes.

I shook my head and chuckled. “I nearly kill a monarch, then we fleeintoa war-torn country, and the first thing you ask about is bacon and eggs?”

Atikus sat up. “Bacon and eggs sound lovely. I do not suppose you have any in that pack of yours, do you?”

Another chortle, then the sound of rummaging answered the Mage.

“Let’s see. We have dried, unidentifiable meat, or a different dried, unidentifiable meat. What’s your pleasure, good Mage?”

Atikus mimed an affronted sniff, as though he had just stuck his nose down a latrine. “Some traveling companion you are.”

I tossed a piece of meat into Atikus’s chest and laughed. It was a deep, soulful sound, the first such laugh in far too many days.

The Mage smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling, but said nothing—for once.

Wood was scarce, but I managed to find a few pieces to start a small fire. I scooped snow into a small bucket and melted it over the flame so I could water and feed the horses. Simple chores held an odd sort of pleasure, as the life of a nation, or a queen, or anyone else, didn’t rest on my shoulders over the making of a fire.

A short time later, our horses’ hooves struck stones, and Atikus pointed to the familiar sight of the Silver Mountains, their towering peaks appearing tiny in the distance. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy to see those snow-topped mountains.

Two days passed with Atikus needling me about my lack of culinary preparation for our journey. I returned the jabs with questions of the Mage’s inability to simply conjure tasty meals. It almost felt as though we were back at the guild, adopted father and son.

I smiled and watched the old Mage trot a few strides ahead, my mind wandering to memories of a much younger Atikus chasing an even more youthful Declan around the courtyard.

Then Atikus reined in his horse, and his hand rose to his brow to shade his eyes. Something in how he sat rigidly in his saddle sent a trickle of unease through my chest.

“What is it? Is someone coming?” My hand rested instinctively on the pommel of my sword.

“No. No one’s coming.” Atikus sucked in a breath. “Saltstone’s on fire. We’re still three leagues away, but I can see the smoke rising.”

“The whole city?”

Atikus looked back. The grim set of his features stilled my tongue.

“There are many plumes of black smoke rising into the sky. I fear the worst may have happened. Be ready with your sword.”

A league closer, we reached the edge of the Kingdom’s encampment. It was little more than a disheveled array of tents and smoldering fires.

I smelled death long before I saw it.

Smoke from burning wood and flesh assaulted my senses, souring my stomach and making my eyes water and sting. Frozen, brackish slush covered the ground between endless rows of wind-battered tents. I searched frantically for guards or scouts—or any soldiers—but none remained.

The Kingdom forces were nowhere to be seen.

Even their supply wagons stood unattended.

We urged our horses forward.

Catapults, like silent wooden skeletons, glared down. Frost had formed over most of their blackened frames.

Then I caught sight of the killing field before the walls.

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