Watered Exigent paled, and then he saluted. ‘I will inform the commanders that we shall advance.’
‘Have them ready, Exigent. The command to advance shall be mine and mine alone.’
‘Of course, Sister Belie.’
After he had left, she returned her attention to the keep. Still no activity at the barricade. Perhaps my feeling about this is wrong. Perhaps indeed he flees through a warren, and just like that, the siege is done. But he will return. Somewhere – this thorn is yet to leave our side, I am certain of it .
Her eyes narrowed, and she blinked rapidly to clear a sudden blurring of her vision – but the problem was not with her eyes. To either side of the barricaded gate, the massive walls had grown strangely smudged, all along the breadth, as if stone had become water.
And from these places, troops appeared in formation, and then skirmishers and archers, fanning out from main ranks. The five-deep lines then unfolded and began linking up with those to either side. Cavalry thundered into view on the far left flank, riding hard for a rise to the west.
She heard the shouts of confusion from her commanders, felt the recoiling fear of the Shriven. He opened gates through the walls. He knew we would be studying the barricade, waiting for them to begin dismantling it. He knew we wouldn’t advance until they did so. And now we are not ready .
Sister Belie swung round. ‘Form a line! Form a line!’ My voice will take their souls, and I will drive the Shriven forward, like wolves unleashed. They will ignore their wounds. Their fear. They will think only of slaughter. By the time my last soldier falls, the enemy will have ceased to be a military threat. This I swear!
She saw her Watered commanders taking control of their companies, their voices powerful as iron-toothed whips. She could feel it now – the cold, implacable sorcery of Akhrast Korvalain, gathering, and she was pleased at its burgeoning strength.
And then someone shrieked, and Sister Belie staggered. What? I have lost one of my commanders! How?
She saw a swirl of soldiers, closing in to where one of the Watered had been standing a moment earlier. Terror and confusion rippled outward.
Forty paces distant from that scene, another commander suddenly died, his chest blossoming wounds.
They have infiltrated assassins! She awakened her voice. ‘FIND THEM! ASSASSINS! FIND THEM!’
The companies were in chaos. ‘FACING RANKS, PREPARE FOR THE ENEMY!’
She saw Exigent, heard his shouts as he struggled to reassert order on his milling Shriven. As she moved to join him, there was a blossom of darkness behind the man. Sister Belie shrieked a warning, but – too late. Knives sank home. Exigent arched in shock, and then was falling.
Akhrast Korvalain, I call upon your power! She set off down the slope. The darkness had vanished, but then, as magic heightened her vision, she could see its swirling path – there would be no hiding from her, not now. A mage. How dare he! ‘NO POWER BUT MINE!’
And she saw that whirling black cloud stagger, saw it pinned in place, writhing in sudden panic.
Hands twitching in anticipation, she advanced on it. Off to her right, she could hear the enemy’s horns announce the attack – she would deal with that later. I can still save this. I must!
The darkness convulsed in the grip of her power.
Now only six paces between her and the hidden mage. ‘NO POWER BUT MINE!’
The sorcery erupted, vanished with a thunderous detonation, and she saw before her a man staggering, sinking down to his knees. Dark-skinned, bald, gaunt – not the Master of the Deck . No matter. She would rend him limb from limb.
Four paces, her boots crunching on gravel, and he looked up at her.
And smiled. ‘Got you.’
She did not even hear her killer as he came up behind her, but the long knives that burst from her chest lifted her from her feet. She twisted, balanced on two hilts, as her slayer raised her yet higher. Then, with a low grunt, he flung her to one side. She was thrown through the air, landing hard, rolling across sharp stones.
The bastard had severed the veins beneath both her hearts. And now, lying in her last moments, her head lolled and she saw him. Burly, ebon-skinned, the long-bladed knives dripping in his hands.
Her Watered were all dead. She heard the enemy ranks smashing into her disordered forces. She heard the slaughter begin.
Faintly, she caught the mage speaking to the assassin. ‘Sheathe that Otataral blade, Kalam, and be quick about it.’
And he rumbled a reply, ‘Done. Now … make me invisible again.’
Their voices grew more distant. ‘Do you think it’s easy? She damned near broke my back with that command.’ They were walking away.
