An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4) by Valerie Zambito

inside.
    Kiernan frowned and continued along the wide paths that crisscrossed the vast open market. She knew she had a much greater chance of going unrecognized here than in the city itself. Most of the people outside of the walls came from all over Iserlohn to conduct their business without ever stepping foot within the city of Nysa.
    Loud shouts, laughter and some groans came from a particularly crowded stall. Curious, Kiernan headed that way. Several spectators stood watching and betting on what appeared to be a contentious game of knife-throwing between two men. The apparent favorite was dark haired and bearded and with arms as thick as an earthshifter. The other was clean shaven with shoulder-length blonde hair.
    The lighter-haired man ignored the goading jeers from the crowd and ran his hands over a collection of knives on a wooden plank in front of him. He finally chose one and bounced it in his palm, gauging its heft. Evidently satisfied with his choice, he turned toward the target—the face of a bull painted on a tree. His face a mask of concentration, he took his time lining up his aim and then flipped the knife toward the target with a hard, quick throw.
    A dull thud sounded as the knife stuck true, directly in the eye of the painted beast.
    The bearded man and most of the crowd moaned and cursed. The winner calmly walked over to a hooded figure who sat off to the side and claimed his purse of coins. Kiernan took the opportunity to reach over to the wooden bar and snatch one of the knives. Prize in hand, she slipped away from the crowd and disappeared back into the market.
    Feeling more at ease that she was armed, all she had to do now was find a way to Pyraan. But, how? No one in Iserlohn would have any reason to travel north unless they were transporting a shifter son or daughter—highly unlikely at this time of night.
    A horse then, she decided.
    The rain started to fall harder. Kiernan searched all the muddy aisles along the path and finally caught sight of a line of horses, snorting and stomping in their pickets. She hurried over and stepped up to a brown mare.
    “What are you doing there? Bug off, lad! Those horses are not for sale!” A man with a stick in his hand rushed toward her.
    With a frustrated growl, she took off and made it to the easternmost border of the market without locating any unguarded horses. She pulled her lip through her teeth as she debated what she should do. Up ahead, two wagons filled with merchandise were preparing to pull out onto the southern road, but they couldn’t help her. I need to go north, not south!
    All hesitancy faded from her mind at the sound of the Nysian gates making their onerous journey open. They never open the gates at this hour!
    Sudden bright light filled the market and Kiernan spun toward the city wall with wide eyes. Soldiers stood atop the parapet with balls of fire hovering above their palms. Shifted fire! Those are shifters creating that light! She had a few terrified seconds to wonder if Nysa was under attack before a unit of mounted Scarlet Sabers tore out of the gates. They rode in a deliberate pattern up and down the lanes of stalls and tents making it apparent they were searching for something. Or someone. Had her father discovered that she had returned? Could it be possible that her father no longer held power and another House ruled? One that wanted her dead? Even more puzzling, why did the people in the market seem unconcerned that shifted fire was being used openly?
    Only, now was not the time to question.
    She turned and sprinted toward the southern-bound wagons. One was already rumbling down the road. The driver of the other was just about to pull himself up onto the bench, and Kiernan grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned to her with a glare.
    It was the man from the knife throwing contest. The blonde-haired man who had won.
    “Pardon,” she said breathlessly, but then willed the emotion out of her voice. “I am looking for passage out