and support he could get. Half of the men
were trying to get the main gate open before their reinforcements
appeared and the other half were trying to get into the castle
where the leaders of the rebellion had barricaded themselves in
with hostages from the royal family.
The healer frowned in response. “I am aware
of the circumstances, boy. I just would hate for Brice to miss out
on the joy of growing old before she is widowed.”
Darius paused at the thought in spite of the
fact it had crossed his mind frequently in the past few hours. “The
thought of dying had crossed my mind, old man. I do not consider
myself invincible.” Awkwardly he tried to swing his cloak across
his shoulder with one hand. It fell short. “At least she would be a
free widow. You know that our marriage makes her no longer a
slave.”
The healer caught the slipping cloth and
assisted him in fastening it so it fell over his bad left arm. “I
figured that was part of the reason, but widowhood is still nothing
to be desired, whether one is free or not. And marriage to a
one-armed mercenary is not much better.” Patting Darius’ right arm,
Kurt looked up at him briefly. “Besides, I have grown fond of you.
Now get.” He shooed Darius toward the hall. “And send in the next
man as you leave.”
Obediently, Darius stepped into the dim and
cramped passage. Two men stood next to the door, one leaning
against the wall and looking quite gray. “He is waiting,” he
muttered before heading to the stair to the common room below.
The Falcon Claw Inn’s common room was empty
except for three men leaning over the table in the back corner. As
Darius approached, the center man lifted his head. “If you are
ready, Darius, we are to head toward the castle and find a way in.
The king needs us to open the gates from the inside.” Jarn’s eyes
challenged Darius to turn down the assignment.
“Then let us go. I know a back way in.”
Darius turned and headed for the door. He could hear Jarn’s hurried
shuffling gait as he tried to catch up. The man was a good soldier,
but Darius had never gotten along easily with him. He always had an
underlying tone to his voice that reeked of contempt.
~~~
Part V
Brice was helping Joyla clear the table after
dinner while Karyn heated the dishwater when there was suddenly a
loud banging on the front door. “I will get it.” Lysa jumped up
from playing with her little sister on the floor. Crossing the room
at a run, the child eagerly reached for the latch. Brice glanced
over to see Karyn wiping her damp hands on her apron and starting
to move toward the door. A crease had appeared between her
eyebrows. It must be unusual to have callers at this time of the
evening. Suddenly the door opened with a loud bang as it bounced
off the wall and shook the house.
Brice turned in time to see Lysa dangling
from a large stranger’s arm, her small face white against the dark
red of her hair. “Don’t move or I kill the brat.” An evil looking
blade lifted to hover threatening close to the girl’s throat. Brice
felt the familiar burst of fear in her center. As it spread into
numbness of shock, she tore her eyes up to the face of the man.
Cold black eyes looked back at her and she almost shivered. This
man was ice.
“Which one is Darius’?” He demanded. Three
men had entered from behind him and were now surveying the
room.
“The dark one.” One of them pointed at her.
Brice’s eyes flew to his face and her heart sunk. It was the cook
Darius had introduced as Hameal in camp only a few days ago. What is going on?
Instantly the other two moved to restrain
her. The leader then addressed Karyn who still stood as if bolted
to the floor. The only life in her face was the emotion in her
eyes. They glared at the stranger who held her child. “We are going
to take both of them. Tell Darius that if he wishes to see his wife
alive again, he needs to only follow. I will be waiting.”
Jerking his head
were trying to get the main gate open before their reinforcements
appeared and the other half were trying to get into the castle
where the leaders of the rebellion had barricaded themselves in
with hostages from the royal family.
The healer frowned in response. “I am aware
of the circumstances, boy. I just would hate for Brice to miss out
on the joy of growing old before she is widowed.”
Darius paused at the thought in spite of the
fact it had crossed his mind frequently in the past few hours. “The
thought of dying had crossed my mind, old man. I do not consider
myself invincible.” Awkwardly he tried to swing his cloak across
his shoulder with one hand. It fell short. “At least she would be a
free widow. You know that our marriage makes her no longer a
slave.”
The healer caught the slipping cloth and
assisted him in fastening it so it fell over his bad left arm. “I
figured that was part of the reason, but widowhood is still nothing
to be desired, whether one is free or not. And marriage to a
one-armed mercenary is not much better.” Patting Darius’ right arm,
Kurt looked up at him briefly. “Besides, I have grown fond of you.
Now get.” He shooed Darius toward the hall. “And send in the next
man as you leave.”
Obediently, Darius stepped into the dim and
cramped passage. Two men stood next to the door, one leaning
against the wall and looking quite gray. “He is waiting,” he
muttered before heading to the stair to the common room below.
The Falcon Claw Inn’s common room was empty
except for three men leaning over the table in the back corner. As
Darius approached, the center man lifted his head. “If you are
ready, Darius, we are to head toward the castle and find a way in.
The king needs us to open the gates from the inside.” Jarn’s eyes
challenged Darius to turn down the assignment.
“Then let us go. I know a back way in.”
Darius turned and headed for the door. He could hear Jarn’s hurried
shuffling gait as he tried to catch up. The man was a good soldier,
but Darius had never gotten along easily with him. He always had an
underlying tone to his voice that reeked of contempt.
~~~
Part V
Brice was helping Joyla clear the table after
dinner while Karyn heated the dishwater when there was suddenly a
loud banging on the front door. “I will get it.” Lysa jumped up
from playing with her little sister on the floor. Crossing the room
at a run, the child eagerly reached for the latch. Brice glanced
over to see Karyn wiping her damp hands on her apron and starting
to move toward the door. A crease had appeared between her
eyebrows. It must be unusual to have callers at this time of the
evening. Suddenly the door opened with a loud bang as it bounced
off the wall and shook the house.
Brice turned in time to see Lysa dangling
from a large stranger’s arm, her small face white against the dark
red of her hair. “Don’t move or I kill the brat.” An evil looking
blade lifted to hover threatening close to the girl’s throat. Brice
felt the familiar burst of fear in her center. As it spread into
numbness of shock, she tore her eyes up to the face of the man.
Cold black eyes looked back at her and she almost shivered. This
man was ice.
“Which one is Darius’?” He demanded. Three
men had entered from behind him and were now surveying the
room.
“The dark one.” One of them pointed at her.
Brice’s eyes flew to his face and her heart sunk. It was the cook
Darius had introduced as Hameal in camp only a few days ago. What is going on?
Instantly the other two moved to restrain
her. The leader then addressed Karyn who still stood as if bolted
to the floor. The only life in her face was the emotion in her
eyes. They glared at the stranger who held her child. “We are going
to take both of them. Tell Darius that if he wishes to see his wife
alive again, he needs to only follow. I will be waiting.”
Jerking his head
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