The Queen's Rising(94)

And so I began to scale down the castle’s wall, the rope burning my hands, the Stone of Eventide humming in my dress, the Queen’s Canon a shield at my back, my hair loose and wild in the smoky wind. My poorly wound knot came undone from Allenach’s bedpost, because I was suddenly falling, flailing through darkness. I hit the ground with a bark of pain in my ankles, but I had landed on my feet.

I began to run.

As the fire raged through the field, blessing my escape and signaling Jourdain’s people to rise, rise and fight, I darted through shadows to the alehouse, which sat quietly in the early hours of night. I was almost there, the grass whisking about my dress, when I heard the pounding gait of a horse.

I thought it was Cartier. I stopped to turn toward the sound, my heart in my throat, only to see Rian furiously cantering toward me, his face a blaze of anger in the starlight. And in his hand was a morning star, a thick wooden club embedded with spikes.

I hardly had time to catch my breath, let alone dodge his death swing. The only shield I had was at my back, the tablet of magical stone, and I turned it to him, felt his morning star slam into the Canon.

The impact rattled my bones as I fell facedown in the grass, believing he had just obliterated the tablet. Numb, I reached back, felt a solid piece of stone within the satchel. It was still whole—it had just saved my life—and I crawled to my feet, tasting blood on my tongue.

The clash of morning star and Canon had split his weapon in half, the way lightning slices a tree. And the impact had ripped him from the saddle; it made me think that even after all this time, Liadan’s words still protected her Maevan daughters.

I was trying to decide if I should run, my breath still wheezing from my fall, or if I should face him. My half brother was lying in the long grass, staggering up to his feet. He caught sight of me, my hesitation, and took a portion of his split weapon.

I only had a matter of moments to fumble for the sword sheathed at my side, but I could feel the air spark with warning, because he was about to give me a deathblow before I could defend myself.

He loomed over me, blocking the moon, and raised one half of his severed weapon.

But his blow never came. I watched, wide-eyed, as he was suddenly rocked off his feet by a leaping beast, a dog that looked like a wolf. I stumbled back, shocked, as Nessie tore his arm open. He let out one strangled scream before she was at his throat. The dog was quick; I watched as Rian went still, his eyes open to the night, his blood spilling into the grass. And then Nessie moved to nuzzle me, whining into the folds of my skirts.

“Easy, girl,” I whispered, shivering. My fingers stroked her head, thanking her for saving me.

He was my half brother, and yet I felt no remorse that he had been killed by his father’s hound.

I turned my back to him and hurried the rest of the way to the alehouse, Nessie trotting at my side.

Cartier was waiting for me at the back door of the building, the shadows of the heavy eaves nearly concealing him from my sight. But he stepped forward when he saw me coming, two horses saddled and ready, the moonlight like spilled milk around us.

I walked right into his embrace, his arms coming about me, his hands touching my back to feel the Canon that I carried. I would have kissed the smile that graced his mouth when he looked down at me, but the night demanded that we hurry. And then I saw that we were not alone.

From the shadows, Merei emerged with a horse in tow, the starlight limning her face as she smiled at me.

“Mer?” I whispered, slipping from Cartier’s arms to reach her. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she teased me. “I’m coming with you.”

I glanced to Cartier, then back to Merei, just now realizing that she had been involved from the very beginning, that she was part of our plans.

“How . . . ?”

“When I volunteered to be the one to go to Damhan,” Cartier explained quietly, “I contacted Merei. Asked if she could convince Patrice to come north, to play in Damhan’s hall. I honestly didn’t think she would be able to sway her patron . . . and so I said nothing of it to Jourdain, in case my idea never materialized.”

“But why?” I persisted.

“Because I knew Amadine Jourdain would need help on her mission,” Cartier replied with a smile. “Little did we know it was you, Brienna.”

And how right he had been. Without Merei, I would have never been able to recover the stone.

I took both of their hands. “To Mistwood?”

“To Mistwood,” they whispered in unison.

We had a six-hour ride ahead of us, through the deepest stretch of night. But before we reached Mistwood, there was one more place we needed to visit.

“Whose dog?” Cartier asked, finally noticing the large, wiry-haired hound who waited at my heels.

“She’s mine,” I replied as I mounted my horse. “And she goes with us.”

Five hours later, I found the safe house on a dark street corner, just beneath one of the oaks that flourished through Lyonesse. Cartier and Merei followed me, their boots hardly making noise on the cobblestones as we moved from shadow to shadow, from road to road, all the way to the printmaker’s front door.

We had left our horses hidden outside the city, guarded by Nessie, who had kept up with our pace, so we could silently travel on foot, to avoid being discovered by Lannon’s night patrol, who enforced a strict curfew. Even so, I still felt a shudder rack my spine as I lifted my knuckles to quietly knock on the door.