Page 89 of Blood of Wolves

He pressed his nose to the ground, and inhaled deeply. The trail was only an hour old. Headed for Aeres, for home.

Leif jumped into a run, and joy filled him as he felt the strong response of his body; the coil and stretch of ready muscles, that instant burst of speed.

“Leif!” Uncle shouted behind him.

But he had to hurry.

Home.

Traitor.

Kill.

~*~

“Don’t draw that yet,” Estrid said as they jogged. “You’ll just trip and fall on it.”

“I will not,” Tessa argued, but she rested her hand on the sword’s pommel, and didn’t draw it yet.

“My lady,” Hilda huffed, drawing alongside her, skirts lifted and large bosom bouncing. “’Tis – ‘tis noble, what you’re trying to do–”

“Oh, come off it,” Estrid said from the other side.

“Hush, you,” Hilda said, as if Estrid were a wayward brat and not a lady as well. Tessa only just managed to clamp down on a burst of hysterical laughter.

Ahead, a corner turned, and the soldiers shifted closer together around Revna so they could pass through a set of open double doors.

“My lady,” Hilda continued, breathing strained and ragged. “’Tis noble, to be sure, but you’ve only started sparring recently. You’ve never wielded a sword this heavy! The Lady Revna was born to this life, but you weren’t. Won’t you – won’t you please–”

Light flared ahead, and it wasn’t from the flickering cressets on the walls.

Revna and the soldiers slid to a halt.

“Make ready!” the leader called, voice echoing off stone.

Over the rapping of her pulse in her ears, and the quick sawing of her breath, she heard the approach of rushing footsteps from below. The loud clink of armor heavier and more solid than any that the Aeretolleans wore. The heavy gold plate of the Sels, which made her own leather bodice and apron seem laughably insufficient by comparison.

“Now,” Estrid murmured, voice gone serious. “Draw your sword now.”

Tessa did. She’d made her choice, however foolish, and now she had to fight for it.

~*~

Time seemed to stand still. The trebuchets launched, and Rune’s gaze went helplessly up, up, up to the boulders that arced through the air toward them. He watched them crest, lost them a moment, eyes watering as he looked directly into the sun, and then he watched them fall.

Their catapults had done their share of damage.

But the Selesee trebuchets had a far great reach. So far that–

“Your grace, get down!”

A hand gripped his cloak and dragged him roughly back. He choked, as the clasp bit into his throat, and the pain in his side grabbed – but Rune could only allow himself to fall backward into the arms of the soldier who’d grabbed him, as he watched a boulder larger than a horse hurtle toward the ramparts.

He hit the ground hard enough that all the air was knocked from his lungs. He was rolled onto his stomach, a weight on his back, hands pressing at the back of his head, his neck.

And then came an awful, deafening crash, and the ground dropped out from under him.

~*~

---