Page 95 of The War of Four Winters

"Doubled since the alarm was raised," the woman replied. "But they're watching the bridges and main gates. This section is lightly patrolled."

We boarded quickly, distributing our weight carefully to prevent the small craft from sitting too low in the water. Ruith and I took the first boat, while Katyr, Niro, and Aryn settled Daraith in the second. Our Craiggybottom allies took up positions to guide the vessels into the current.

Behind us, a low rumble shook the ground. Dust and debris erupted from the tunnel entrance we had just left, followed by an unnatural silence. Whatever battle had raged between Klaus's warriors, the battle mages, and the unleashed spirits had reached some kind of conclusion.

As we pushed away from shore, a shout came from atop the wall. We had been spotted. Guards pointed in our direction, their voices carrying faintly across the water as they called for reinforcements.

"Row!" Niro commanded. "Quickly!"

I took up a pair of crude oars and began rowing along with everyone else in the boat. Behind us, the alarm spread along the wall, guards running to positions where they might intercept our escape. Arrows splashed into the water around us, most falling short as the current carried us beyond effective range.

"There's the checkpoint," Ruith warned, nodding toward a fortified position where the river passed beyond the city's outermost wall. A heavy chain could be raised to block the passage of larger vessels, while guards with crossbows monitored all traffic from stone towers on either bank.

"They're raising the chain," I observed, watching the massive links slowly rise from the water.

"Too late," Katyr called from the second boat. "We'll pass before it's fully up."

He was right, but only just. Our small craft slipped beneath the rising barrier with inches to spare, metal scraping against the top of the second boat as it followed. Crossbow bolts rained down from the towers, several striking our vessels, though fortunately hitting no flesh before Katyr erected a barrier.

And then we were through, the current accelerating as the river narrowed beyond the checkpoint. D'thallanar receded behind us, its towers and domes growing smaller with each passing moment. The guards continued firing from the wall, but we had passed beyond their range.

Ruith sagged against me, the adrenaline of escape giving way to exhaustion. His body trembled slightly against mine.

"You came for me," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the rush of water. "You actually came for me."

I curled my fingers through his, the simple contact offering reassurance we both needed. "Always," I replied. "Wherever you are, I will find you."

He smiled then, a genuine expression that transformed his face. His eyes held mine with such intensity that the world around us seemed to fade away—the river, the pursuit, even the others in the boat with us.

"I love you," he said simply. "Beyond reason, beyond sense. I love you."

"I know," I replied, unable to keep the smile from my face. "I've always known."

Behind us, bells rang urgently from the city's towers. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt for those we'd left behind—Klaus and his warriors, the ordinary citizens caught in whatever chaos now spread through D'thallanar's streets. But that guilt was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming relief of having Ruith beside me, alive and free.

The river carried us swiftly away from D'thallanar, toward allies waiting beyond the next bend. Toward the future we had fought so hard to protect.

Behind us, the distant clamor of bells continued, spreading the alarm of the escaped prisoners.Let them ring, I thought. Let the whole realm know that Ruith Starfall had defied the Primarch.

Let them all know their king lived.

TheCraiggybottomclanhouserose ahead. From the river, we had watched pillars of smoke rise from districts loyal to Tarathiel as word of our escape spread through D'thallanar. Bells rang continuously from the Assembly Hall, their urgent pealing carrying across water and stone to signal emergency throughout the city.

Captain Seagrave's people escorted us through back alleys and hidden passages, avoiding the main thoroughfares where Tarathiel's guards hunted us with increasing desperation. As we approached the merchant quarter, the buildings became more diverse and sturdy, and the patrols vanished.

"The guild compound is just ahead," our guide whispered, gesturing toward the sprawling complex that resembled a small village unto itself rather than a traditional clan seat. Blue banners displaying their sail-and-star emblem hung alongside flags representing member families and allied trading partners. "Representative Seagrave awaits within."

My body felt like lead, each step requiring conscious effort as the adrenaline of our escape faded. Beside me, Elindir scanned our surroundings despite his own evident exhaustion. The past days had marked him, thinning his face and adding shadows beneath his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and constant tension.

At the gates, guards with distinctive indigo sashes verified our identities. As they ushered us inside, the transition was jarring: outside lay a city trembling on the edge of civil war, while inside existed a world untouched by the impending chaos.

From beyond the walls came the distant crash of breaking glass, shouted orders of city guards, and the ominous tolling of alarm bells. Yet here, music floated from a stringed instrument while an elderly elf sang verses in a language I didn't recognize. The scent of spiced wine and fresh bread replaced the acrid smell of smoke that had followed us through the streets. The jarring contrast made me stumble slightly, my exhausted mind struggling to reconcile these parallel realities.

Around the fire pits, elves sat shoulder-to-shoulder with humans who wore no collars, their laughter mingling without hierarchy or hesitation. Half-elven children darted between groups, playing games. This wasn't just a haven. It was a living example of the world we were fighting to build, existing improbably in the heart of D'thallanar itself.

"Your Majesty." Representative Seagrave approached as we entered the central courtyard, bowing briefly. She wore simple but well-made clothing with subtle embroidery of her house's sail and star emblem, quality fabric rather than ostentatious jewelry marking her status. "We've prepared quarters for you and your companions. Our healers await, and food has been made ready."

I nodded, too weary for formal speech. Behind us, Aryn supported Daraith. His typically stoic expression softened with concern as his husband leaned heavily against him. Katyr walked beside them, his shoulders brushing Niro’s.

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