Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(69)

* * *



I bolt for the outer doors, Temra and Petrik somewhere behind me. I don’t know if they’ve realized that I was right outside the door, but now is not the time to worry about it.

We’ve got bigger problems.

I find Kellyn and Prince Skiro already on the wall above the gate, overlooking whatever is beyond. I have to fight through the crowds of people calling for loved ones, trying to usher children out of the way. I leap over a sheep before finally reaching the stairs and taking them two at a time.

From up top, I can’t see anything at first. And then, a dust cloud in the distance. The tiniest pinpricks of what might be marching soldiers.

Regardless of how small and far away they seem, fear grips my heart, pumps terror into my veins with every beat. I can do nothing but stare for a moment.

Skiro says, “Saydan, send riders to set up a time and location for the meeting. We’re resolving this quickly. We don’t want the people afraid longer than they need to be.”

I turn in time to see Skiro stride past a disheveled Petrik, who has eyes for nothing but my sister. My face warms at the reminder of what I overheard. It’s really not something I should know about unless Temra wants me to know about it, but it’s too late to take back my eavesdropping now.

The thick wooden gate creaks open beneath where we stand, and five riders gallop toward the approaching army. They carry nothing with them, only wear the golden sun sigil of Prince Skiro.

“There’s nothing to do except wait until the riders return with news of the meetup,” Petrik says.

“I don’t like it,” I say. “What if Ravis means to trick Skiro? Kill him during the negotiations?”

“He won’t,” Petrik says. “He’s not my favorite person, but he’s not a heathen. If he agrees to a meeting, he will honor the stipulations surrounding it.”

“Would you bet Skiro’s life on that?” Temra asks.

Petrik bites his lip. “No.”

We stand atop the wall, watching. Waiting. Skiro returns shortly, followed by the head of his personal guard, Tazar, who sticks to the prince like butter on bread.

An hour goes by.

Two.

Three.

Night falls, and still the riders don’t return. Just how far away is the army? We see lights in the distance, torches flickering faintly. The barest sounds of the march carry on the wind.

And then, finally, a lone horse approaches, whinnying when the rider pulls it to a stop.

“Open the gate,” Saydan calls. “He’s one of ours.”

Skiro descends the wall, and the rest of us follow on his heels. The gate slams closed once the guard is safely inside. I hope it doesn’t open again for a very long time.

A small man dismounts from his horse; he was clearly chosen for the sake of speed. When his feet touch the ground, he immediately removes his helmet and bows to the prince.

“I sent out five,” Skiro says. “Why have only you returned?”

The guard’s voice wavers slightly as he answers. “Prince Ravis said he needed only one to relay his message. He kept the others. I know not for what purpose, except perhaps to weaken your forces.”

Skiro does a poor job hiding his response to the news. Through gritted teeth, he asks, “What is the message?”

“‘If you surrender your lands to me willingly, little brother, no harm shall come to you or your people. Otherwise, you will surrender them after much bloodshed. Either way, I will have them.’”

When the guard ceases talking, Skiro’s jaw drops. “That’s it?”

“That’s the entirety of the message, sire. He will not negotiate. He will not meet with you.”

I watch the prince’s hands clench into fists at his sides. “What more did you observe? Of his forces and his march?”

“They will be here by tomorrow morning, and it will be no siege, sire.”

“What do you mean?”

“His men bring with them ladders and hooks. Battering rams and projectile weapons. He has some two thousand men with him. They will breach the walls in no time.”

At that pronouncement, I have no chance to see the prince’s reaction. I’m too busy trying to keep my own under control. I bite back a whimper, and I can’t help the glance I shoot Temra’s way. As though I have to assure myself she hasn’t somehow floated away.

“We can’t stay here,” I hear Kellyn say. “It’ll be a slaughter.”

“It’s too late to leave,” Skiro says. “We’d never move this many people, children and elderly, at a fast enough pace. He’d catch up. Two thousand men.” He whispers the last three words to himself. No one thought the prince capable of rallying such forces.

“What if we use the doors?”

Everyone turns their gaze on me.

“I’m not sure what doors you’re referring to,” Skiro says, “but I’m certain they’re meant to be kept secret and not spoken about in just anyone’s company.”

“I made no promise to keep them secret,” I say. “And they might be our only chance of saving everyone.”

“I can’t simply sneak thousands of people into a new territory! Into a new palace.”

“Then don’t be sneaky!” I shout, uncomfortable and irritated and full of fear. Remembering I’m talking to a prince, I lower my tone. “We could let them know we’re coming. You said you’re close with your sisters. Will none of them be sympathetic to our plight? Surely they will want the added numbers when Ravis comes their way?”