The Blood Forest (Tree of Ages #3)(32)
Of all the things they could have encountered, snow was the last thing Maarav would have guessed. The second to last, were the black shapes he occasionally noticed watching them from the trees. He knew Iseult had noticed them too, judging by the way he gripped the pommel of his sword, and the way his eyes darted about. He also knew it was no coincidence that Tavish and Rae had disappeared the night before.
He sighed, refocusing his attention on their present predicament. They’d ridden out of the denser snow to find a small path with only a light dusting. Hopefully soon they would ride out of the snow altogether, and things could go back to normal . . . at least, as normal as they could be in a land plagued by the Faie. Perhaps the stealthy black shapes were only observing them, and upon seeing him, would leave them alone.
He sighed as several black clad figures stepped onto the path ahead of them. Things wouldn’t be going back to normal after all.
He drew his horse to a halt, recognizing those who stood before them, though they wore black cowls over their heads, with additional fabric covering the lower parts of their faces. One in particular he would know anywhere.
“I’m surprised to see you this far south, Slàine,” he called out as his companions stopped their horses a few paces behind him.
“I have a job to do,” called back the woman who’d raised him like he was her own son.
Iseult trotted his horse up to Maarav’s side, cool rage in his expression. It was clear he thought he’d been betrayed. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Maarav.
Maarav paused to analyze the situation. Finn did not look at him, but instead glanced around from her seat behind Iseult. Several more black clad shapes had closed in around them, and he knew there were likely more still hidden in the snowy trees. He thought he noticed the shapes of Tavish and Rae. It was difficult to tell with the hoods, but a strand of bright red hair stuck out near the eyes of one of the men. He’d had nothing to do with this, but Iseult knew Slàine, and would likely deduce the black clad figures were Maarav’s people. In this, Iseult would never believe him innocent.
“I honestly do not know,” Maarav replied in vain. He was unsure what job would draw Slàine this far south. Usually she and the others worked only as assassins, but if that was their aim, they would already be dead.
Slàine glanced at the men and women to either side of her. “Take the girl,” she demanded. “The one riding with the man.”
Ah, thought Maarav, now it all made sense. This must have something to do with Finn’s bounty. “She must be worth a great deal of coin to catch your interest,” Maarav replied, hoping to halt the assassins’ progress.
“She is worth more than coin,” Slàine explained. “I have an old debt to settle. A very old debt.”
“Call them off,” Iseult interrupted, “unless you care to sustain great casualties.”
Slàine laughed, then gestured for her people to attack. There was a moment of utter stillness, then they swarmed forward as one, focusing on Iseult and Finn. As fluid as water, Iseult jumped down from his horse and met the nearest attacker with his blade, skewering the young man. Another black clad man leapt toward him, and fell just the same.
Seconds later, the rest of their party joined the fight, surprising Maarav as he stepped back out of the way. Sure, he’d expected Iseult and Kai to fight for Finn, but not the others. An arrow struck a woman who’d taken hold of Finn’s leg, and Maarav followed its path to see Bedelia, still mounted on her horse with her bow raised. Anna and Kai fought back to back with smaller blades, no less deadly than Iseult’s. Even Sativola swung a small ax, warding away those trying to reach Finn. None of the assassins attacked Maarav, likely believing he was on their side. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure which side he was on, though at the moment, the assassins, many of whom he’d grown up with, were interfering with his plans. Across the chaos, he spotted the black clad figure with the tuft of red hair showing. Meeting each other's eyes, they both shrugged and joined the fight.
Maarav unsheathed his sword and blocked the path of an assassin heading toward Iseult. He didn’t recognize the eyes above the black fabric, but it was clear whomever it was recognized him. The man hesitated, then lifted his blade. Their weapons rang out as they clashed, and Maarav began to fight against his own people with all his might. His loyalties lay with himself, just as they always had, and he wanted to see this adventure through. He slashed the man he fought across the chest, watching him topple to the ground. Slàine leapt in front of him. He met her blade for blade. Her eyes widened in shock for a split second, then she attacked with a ferocious growl. He sensed someone at his back, then his hair stood on end as lightning struck directly behind him. Ealasaid. A man cried out in pain, distracted from sticking a blade in Maarav’s back.
“Thank you!” he called before dodging another one of Slaine’s attacks. He turned just in time to witness Kai sustaining a wound to his side, though he could not look long enough to tell if it was fatal. He heard Finn scream at the sight, then more assassins swarmed in from the surrounding woods. He moved to parry another of Slàine’s attacks.
“You do not understand!” she growled, evading his next attack.
“Then explain yourself!” he panted.
Even with his and Iseult’s sword skills, and Ealasaid’s lightning, Maarav knew they would soon be overwhelmed. Perhaps he’d chosen the wrong side of the battle after all. At least he’d die with a sword in his hand—an arrow struck another of the assassins charging him—and friends at his side.