The Queen's Rising(101)

Allenach gave me a malicious little smile. It seemed as if he was weighing my soul in that moment, weighing how valuable I was to him. His eyes flickered from my bloodstained boots up to the woad on my face, the braids in my hair, the wound in my left arm, the sword in my right hand.

“You are brave, I will give you that,” the lord said. “If I had raised you, you would love me. You would serve me. You would fight with me, not against me.”

And how different my life would be, if Allenach had raised me from the very start. I saw myself standing at his shoulder, a cold warrior of a girl, taking life and taking the throne with no regrets. There would have been no Magnalia, no Merei, no Cartier. Just me and my father, sharpening each other into vicious weapons.

“I will give you one final chance, Brienna,” he said. “Come to me, and I will forgive you. I know MacQuinn has clouded your judgment; he has stolen you from me. Join me, and we will take what is rightfully ours.” He dared to extend his left hand, palm upward, as a Valenian would offer their allegiance and their heart.

I stared at the lines of his palm, the lines my own life had grafted from. And I remembered Tristan’s memory, the one I had just tasted. But know that one day, a daughter will rise from your line, a daughter who shall be two in one, passion and stone. Norah Kavanagh had seen me coming in the features of Tristan’s face, had predicted my life and my purpose.

I had descended from selfish, ambitious blood.

And I was Norah Kavanagh’s vengeance. I would redeem myself.

“No,” I said, a simple yet delicious word.

Allenach’s pleasant fa?ade shattered. His hatred returned, burning bright, his face like a stone that had cracked, turning itself into dust. Before I could so much as breathe, he growled—the beast within him coming unleashed—and cut his sword at me.

It was all I could do to block his blade, to protect myself from being split open by his wrath. I stumbled again, my exhaustion my slow undoing, the impact of clashing steel rattling up my fingers, up my arms, setting my teeth in a grimace.

I fell into a dangerous dance with him, over blood and death, Yseult’s training rising in me, keeping me alive as I deflected and blocked and twisted away from the edge of his blade.

I needed to pierce him with my steel. I needed to sever one of his vital blood flows. And yet . . . I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had never taken life. I had never killed. And I wanted to weep, to know that I had reached this moment, this moment when I would have to kill the man who had made me, or let him extinguish my life.

Those thoughts were haunting me when an arrow hissed through the air, so unexpectedly that it took Allenach a full breath to realize he had been shot in his thigh, the very place Tristan had been pierced, the fletching trembling as he took a step back. The lord looked down at it, stunned. And then we both glanced up, following the path the arrow had flown to see a girl with dark hair and elegant fingers standing a few yards away, lowering her bow, her eyes gleaming as she defied Allenach.

“Run, Brienna,” Merei ordered me, notching another arrow on her bow, calm and poised as if she were about to play me a song on her violin.

I felt stricken as our gazes met. She was ordering me to run while she stayed. She was offering to kill him, so I would not have to.

But my father was charging to her now, his sword flashing in the sunlight. And all she had was her bow and arrows.

“No!” I screamed, chasing after him, trying to catch him before he could reach her.

Merei stepped back, her arm quivering as she shot at Allenach again, a brave one aimed at his face. He ducked, narrowly missing her lethal shot, and then swung his blade. I bit through my lip trying to intercept him. But there was a sudden gleam of armor, a blur of dark red and silver as someone came between Allenach and Merei.

Sean.

His face was trapped in a grimace as his sword clashed with Allenach’s, as he shifted his blade to push the lord away from Merei. I didn’t know if I should wholly trust him: my half brother was wearing the colors and sigil of Allenach. But Sean continued to spar our father back, until Allenach was trapped between us, his son and his daughter.

“Enough, Father,” Sean rasped. “This battle is lost. Surrender, before more lives must fall.”

Allenach chuckled bitterly. “So my son is also a traitor.” He glanced between us. “You choose your illegitimate sister over me, Sean?”

“I choose the queen, Father,” Sean said, his voice steady. “Surrender. Now.” He extended the point of his blade, until it rested against Allenach’s neck.

I was struggling to breathe, to stand as my legs went numb. I could not imagine one as gentle and polite as Sean killing his father.

The lord laughed, no fear in the sound, only disgust and fury. In one bold move, he disarmed my brother. In one breath, he plunged his sword into Sean’s side, through the weak seams of his armor.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but all I could hear was the roar of my own pulse as I watched Sean fold and tumble down to the grass. My eyes were fixed upon his blood, blood that began to coat Merei’s hands as she frantically tried to help him.

And then Allenach turned that bloodstained sword on me.

He disarmed me swiftly, the pain a vibrant sting up my arm. I watched Widow’s Bite sail through the air, falling a great distance from me. And then I felt his knuckles as he backhanded my face, my cheek blistering with his spite. He hit me again, again, and my eyes blurred as I felt the blood flow from my nose, from my mouth.