Page 192 of Keeper of the Word
They spent much of the day assembling what people they could and leading them a few miles down the West Road.
“I thank you for what you’ve done this day for my people,” Ferika said, at evening’s fall. The barrage of noise had become such a constancy, Tolvar was numb to the ringing in his ears.
“I implore you, my queen, will you not go with them? Lead them to some sort of safety?”
“I cannot leave here,” Ferika said. “Not until the torch is doused.” She nodded in the direction of Asalle, and Tolvar didn’t need to glance at it to know she meant the sovereign’s torch. She meant until Rian had died.
Tolvar was in no position to order anyone at this point, least of all the Queen of the Capella Realm, and so he did not try to persuade her again.
Stars’shadow, Tolvar had trapped himself and the others.
They had debated if they could make it back to camp with Queen Ferika in tow, but the battles never paused. Never stopped. ’Twas as if the evil that had been brought into Asalle’s countryside fed itself off of the death and destruction and it needed no rest.
The second-best idea—though he loathed it—was to keep to the westside and protect the queen.
Only three battles had shifted and coincidentally struck into them. He could not believe his fortune that no one had spotted and outright attacked the Wolf.
The queen’s presence was intolerable. How to wait upon aqueen in a battlefield? Tolvar kept his mouth shut about Queen Ferika loitering rather than fleeing. He studied the sovereign’s torch. He didn’twishit to extinguish, but blast it, they needed to search for Crevan.
Tolvar was incredulous that Crevan and Turas had still not shown.
“The Curse is everywhere here,” Ghlee remarked.
“Aye,” Tolvar agreed. The back of Tolvar’s neck tingled with misgiving. Yet the torch of the sovereign remained lit even as the city itself became tinted with grey.
They resumed their watch of the main gate. A few armies had thronged to the giant gate in combat. They’d been locked in combat there for an entire day. In the middle of the fray, the two fought to be the first to breach the city. Two battering rams had already been splintered. Tolvar surveyed through his spyglass a third snap.
Clack. An impressive sound, even from this distance.
“It holds firm—for now,” he said to Ghlee. He shifted the spyglass to the hill beyond the river. “I still cannot make out the StarSeers or Hux.”
Staying hidden, hopefully.
Ghlee extended his hand for the spyglass. “Get some rest. You’ve hardly slept.”
“How can one sleep in this racket?”
“Still.”
“Fine. But wake me at the first sign of Crevan.”
What felt like mere moments later, Ghlee shook him awake.
“You’d better come see this,” Ghlee said.
They joined the others in observance of the battles. Something had altered, although ’twas difficult to see at first. He worked to gain a sense of what it was, but soon, Tolvar discerned the alteration.
The giant army of the Earl of Anscom had at long last arrived. They plowed their way through the others.
“Stars. That probably means that Crevan and the Edan Stone are all the way over there.”
“And close to the Seers,” Alvie added.
Siria’s skirt.
They prepared their horses, leaving behind any supplies they’d obtained from Asalle’s citizens, and decided that three Order knights would stay with the queen.
“Are you certain you will not flee, Your Majesty?”
