Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(70)

Skiro places his hands atop his hips as he looks up at me. The scrutiny is unbearable, but I want him to take me seriously, so I don’t look away.

“Marossa,” Petrik says. “She would take us in.”

I blink at the princess’s name. She’s the ruler over my home city of Lirasu. I know very little of her other than that. The capital is a couple weeks’ journey from the city, and I’ve never had to make it.

Skiro lets a long breath out between his teeth. “Even if she lets us in, and even if I give away the one advantage I have over all my siblings, we’d still never get this many people through the portal before the army reaches us. We’d need more time.”

“We can stall the army,” Temra says, drawing her sword.

No one says anything for a moment.

I blurt, “You can’t stall a two-thousand-strong army with a handful of soldiers.”

“We have the advantage of height,” she retaliates.

“Until they breach the walls.”

“Then we will fight with our last breath to allow as many people the chance to flee as possible.”

“You want all the trained men and women to give their lives so a handful more city folk can flee?”

“We promise to protect when we take the oath. We’re prepared to lay down our lives.”

“You’re not laying down your life for anyone!” I’m bursting with anger. If I have to tie her up and haul her through that portal myself, I will.

“There are strategies,” Petrik says softly in the thick silence following our argument. “Ways to defend the wall longer. I’ve been reading. I could go get my books…”

“Books are not helpful right now, little brother,” Skiro says. “What we need is someone who can command the troops through the siege.” He eyes his man Tazar.

“I am only trained in defending you, sire. And Saydan has never led men into battle. He hasn’t any experience with sieges.”

Skiro looks off into the distance, staring at nothing. “Then we must ask the city guards to give us as much time as possible. I will go speak with my sister and warn her we’re coming. I will be back shortly. Temra, will you oversee the people through the portal?”

Though the last question was directed to my sister, Skiro looks to me as he asks it.

Temra works her jaw wordlessly. I know her dilemma. She wishes to be on the wall, fighting. But she also doesn’t want to refuse the prince. In the end, she says, “Of course.”

Skiro takes a few steps away.

“Wait,” Kellyn says, drawing everyone to a stop. “We have someone here who has led men into battle. Someone who has experience with sieges. Someone who could lead the troops and buy more time for everyone to escape.”

I turn to Kellyn. Who could he possibly—

“No!” I shout.

“You mean the warlord Kymora,” Skiro says, drawing closer to the group.

“She’s our prisoner. We should use her,” Kellyn says.

“She can’t be trusted!” I shriek. “She’s nearly killed us more times than I can count! She’ll flee at the first chance she gets, help our enemies if she can!”

“We could offer her something she wants,” Petrik says hesitantly.

I round on the scholar. “And just what are you prepared to offer her?”

“Her freedom,” Skiro says with a firm determination. He turns to Saydan. “See to it. I have to speak with my sister. Temra, Petrik, with me.”



* * *



I think I must have imagined the whole conversation. Surely the prince couldn’t have been so stupid as to—

And then I hear her voice.

“This is all the men we have?”

“Yes,” Saydan answers Kymora.

“Huh. Then we best make use of the townspeople. Send them out in groups to collect rocks from the surrounding mountains.”

“Prince Skiro ordered the gates closed.”

“And I’m telling you to open them.”

I watch them walk through the courtyard. So close now.

“I want fires built in every tower. We need large pots from the kitchens. Set water to boiling.”

Saydan nods to some of the men behind him, and they break away to carry out orders.

“Give every man on the wall a torch to hold. Do you have pitch?” Kymora asks.

“We have oil.”

“It’ll have to do. Bring all the soldiers I have to command to the wall so I may speak to them.”

“I will gather them up now.”

Saydan looks to Kellyn and me before relinquishing Kymora into our custody.

Though I have a new set of magicked hammers at my sides, they do little to comfort me with the warlord standing to my left.

Kellyn, the traitor, stands on her other side, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks carefree, relaxed almost. As if there weren’t an army approaching. As if everything were perfectly fine.

Why does no one but me seem to realize that we’re all about to die? How am I the only one afraid?

After a silence that might be the death of me, Kymora bursts into laughter. “It’s funny how quickly things can change.”

Her hands are manacled together, and she isn’t permitted a weapon, but she’s still far too capable without the use of either. She can run. She can jump. She can do whatever she damn well pleases.