Page 152 of A War of Crowns

“Riders!” Dane echoed the cry. Thorley’s hot, stale breath bathed the right side of his face as the older man tried to get a lookas well. Dane shrugged him off, though. “Horseback! Too many to count.”

“Let me see,” Thorley demanded, but Dane ignored the man as he skimmed further along the ridge, searching for any distinguishing markings. They were too far out still for him to make out many details, but he finally spotted a banner fluttering above them.

It was one he didn’t recognize.

“They’re flying a…feathered lion?” Dane cried out to his unit. “A feathered lion…wearing a…crown?”

“Give methat,” his commanding knight, Sir Conall, growled from overhead.

The spyglass was wrenched from Dane’s fingers before he could even attempt to comply.

Like the rest of his unit, he waited in tense silence for the knight to study the riders on the ridge just as he had mere moments ago.

“Drakmor. It’s Drakmor’s griffin,” Sir Conall whispered under his breath, the spyglass lowering.

Dane knew about Drakmor. He wasn’t a learned man. He couldn’t read or write. But he certainly knew about Drakmor. Drakmor was their ally.

At least, Drakmorhadbeen their ally until the moment Queen Seraphina told Drakmor’s king she wouldn’t marry him.

Dane wasn’t entirely sure what Drakmor was to them now.

Behind him, Thorley cheered at the news, but Dane simply glanced back up to Sir Conall, who still loomed over him and asked, “What does it mean, sir?”

Sir Conall let the spyglass drop back into the crate of supplies and explained, “It means our queen has done it. It means we have reinforcements coming.” The weight of the other man’s hand clapped against Dane’s shoulder when the knight added, “It means you might actually get to go home, boy.”

Home.

“Shields! Shields!”

Still in a daze, Dane scrambled for the tower shield in front of him. Given he was already in position, he was one of the first to make up the shieldwall that time. He locked himself into place, his shoulders braced against Thorley on his right and Sir Conall on his left.

A moment later, a strangled scream sounded from further down the wall, announcing that one of their soldiers hadn’t been quick enough in making it to his position.

They had lost another of their number.

But for the first time in a long time, Dane felt a spark of hope welling inside of him.Drakmorwas coming.Reinforcements would be there soon. They might be able to break the siege at last. They might be able towin.

And then he could go home…

Just him and Hedley.

“What’s that?” Thorley suddenly asked at the same time he felt it, too. A single droplet of water striking the bridge of his nose.

Dane squinted and shot a glance upward at the unnaturally dark sky above. “Was that…?”

It was.Rain.

“Back to your stations,” Sir Conall shouted over the sudden, glorious tink-tink-tink of rain striking against metal armor. “Ready the catapults for another volley. Drakmor is coming! Carve them a path.”

For a few more moments, Dane just knelt there and let the cool rain wash over him. It slipped beneath his armor and soaked into his undershirt. Rain.

Could witches even launch their fire in the rain?

He breathed in of the scent of wet stone as best he could through his face covering before he finally lurched back to his feet. One final push. That’s all he needed. Just one more push.

And then it’d all be over.

At last.

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