Rhona pushed through the crowds, but the Sovereign soldiers, some of the most wel trained she’d ever come across in her life, were not confused by Gaius’s men. Instead, they surrounded the smal group, their focus on one thing and one thing only.
“Hand her over,” the commander said, pointing at the royal Vigholf had over his shoulder. “Hand her over or we’l kil —” The commander’s eyes suddenly widened, his mouth opened, and a blade pushed through his chest from behind. When he fel forward dead, Rhona wouldn’t say she was surprised to see Annwyl standing behind him, but she was relieved. The soldiers quickly snapped out of their shock at the loss of their commander and they went on the attack. Annwyl dove in sword first, as was her way, Izzy and Brannie fighting by her side.
“Take the royal,” Annwyl ordered Vigholf. “Take her and go. We’l be right behind you!” Rhona motioned to Vigholf. The strength that the Iron royal had a few minutes before was quickly waning, and if she died, Rhona would prefer it was in her brother’s arms rather than theirs. “Go, Vigholf. Take her.”
“And you?” he asked, gazing down at her. Doing something she didn’t think he ever would—trusting her to protect herself.
Rhona smiled. “Don’t worry. I’l be right behind you.”
Vigholf stroked her cheek with his hand. “You better be,” he warned. Then he swung his hammer and battered his way through the soldiers surrounding them.
Chapter 32
It was the abrupt silence that worried him. For days it hadn’t been quiet. Not with boulders constantly slamming into the cave wal s of their stronghold.
But now?
Now there was nothing, and Meinhard the Savage didn’t like that at al .
By the time Meinhard made it to the cave entrance that faced the Polycarp Mountains, Ragnar was already there, staring out.
“Get everyone ready,” his cousin ordered.
“Already done.”
“The Fire Breathers?”
“Ready.”
Meinhard waited for his cousin to give the next order, but Ragnar didn’t move.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Something’s not right. It’s too quiet. It’s too—”
The entire Val ey rumbled, cutting off Ragnar’s words.
“Ragnar?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I—” Ragnar braced his claw against the wal , the first explosion rocking everything around them. Then the second explosion came and the third. The pair watched as the Polycarp Mountains began to fal , one after the other, after the other. Until there was nothing but dust, dirt, and level ground. Now there was nothing separating them from the Irons. It would be a straight, head-on battle. Irons against Northlanders and Fire Breathers.
“Get al our troops up here, now.”
Meinhard nodded, turned to go. But one of the Fire Breathers ran toward him.
“Meinhard! Coming from behind. Sovereigns.”
“They’re closing in around us,” Ragnar murmured. “Any sign of Annwyl’s army?”
“Scouts just got back. They’re coming in from the Eastern Pass, moving fast, but they don’t know about al this.”
“They’l find out soon enough.” He looked at Meinhard. “We’l let Annwyl’s army deal with the humans. And I want everyone who’s in that bloody tunnel out. Now.”
Meinhard nodded. “Done. And Annwyl’s troops?”
“We hope they get here before it’s too late. Now go, cousin,” Ragnar ordered as they both heard the sound of advancing Irons. “Because we’ve just run out of time.”
Brastias rode along beside his troops, using the Eastern Pass as Morfyd had suggested. They’d made good time this way, but stil , the men were restless. Not simply because they wanted this fight over with, but because they hadn’t seen Annwyl. The fear and gossip that the queen had deserted her troops was spreading through the ranks. Although how any of them could believe that she’d desert them out of fear or boredom or some monarch pique, did nothing but make Brastias very angry. So angry that he’d had anyone spreading those rumors flogged for insubordination.
True, Annwyl had left them, but not because she’d run away. No. Not his Annwyl. She’d done something even more stupid. She’d gone right into the enemy’s den. But what she was facing there, he had no idea.
Brastias’s horse, a veteran of many battles like his rider, suddenly reared up, only Brastias’s skil keeping him seated. Then almost al of the horses reared or backed up, col iding into the horses behind them, the ground beneath them shaking and shuddering.
“Earthquake?” Danelin, Brastias’s second in command, asked.
“No. I don’t think so. It’s something else.” The rumbling continued on, the land beneath them rol ing. Until, final y, it stopped. “It’s begun,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“Aye. I’m sure.”
Brastias turned to two of his messengers. When they were on the march, it was these mounted soldiers who spread commands when time was short.
“We cut off on that path up ahead, then we cut the Sovereign snake in half. Now go!”
“You sure the Sovereigns are already in the Western Pass?”
“The Irons wouldn’t move until they were. They’re there, and we’re going to kil them al .”
“And Annwyl?”
“I’ve never doubted her before, Danelin,” he said, spurring his horse to a gal op. “I won’t start now.” As Vigholf made his way to the gate, he wasn’t surprised to see the Rebel King walking through. He was in human form, the hood of his cape covering his face, but it was him.
While the royal’s gaze searched the panicked crowd, Vigholf careful y pul ed his sister off his shoulder and carried her in his arms to the Iron.
“King Gaius.”
The king turned and saw his sister. First, he seemed stunned. Unable to do anything but stare. But as Vigholf moved closer, the king reached for her and took her into his arms.
“Agrippina?” He dropped down to one knee, cradling his sister. “Aggie?”
The royal opened her eyes, reached up, and pressed her palm to his cheek. “Gaius.” The king laid his forehead against his sister’s. “Aggie, I’m so sorry.”
“No. Don’t. You apologize for nothing.” She turned her head, looked over at the city she’d just left behind. “It was her. I want her. ”
“Our army is right outside this gate. One word—”
“She’s gone. Slithering snake that she is. She’s slithered away. We could burn the city to the ground and we won’t find her.”
“Then I’m getting you out of here.”
He stood and carried his sister out of the castle gates.
To be honest, Vigholf didn’t think much about it until Annwyl ran up to him a few minutes later. “Where’s the royal?”
“Her brother took her.”
“They’re gone?”
“Wel —”
Snarling, she ran off after them.
“Annwyl!” When the royal didn’t stop, he looked over his shoulder at the stil -battling females. “Rhona, come on!” He didn’t wait, assured they could take care of themselves. It was the lunatic he was concerned about.
Vigholf fol owed, catching up to Annwyl as she cleared a hil . On the other side stood King Gaius’s army. And they were, in a word, vast.
“You promised!” Annwyl was saying to Gaius’s back.
The king stopped and slowly faced the Southland queen. “I’m not leaving my sister.”
“You wouldn’t have your sister if it wasn’t for us.”
“What’s she talking about, Gaius?” Lady Agrippina asked.
“Nothing.”
“You promised!” Annwyl insisted.
“You’re irritating me again.”
“I don’t care.”
The king’s sister motioned to the ground. “Put me down, Gaius.”
“You’re not wel enough—”
“Don’t argue or we’l be here al damn day. Just put me down.”
Gaius put his sister on the ground but kept an arm around her waist, letting her lean against him while Varro covered her nak*d body with a cape.
“Now tel me,” she ordered. And it was an order.
“You!”
A hand gripped his tail and Nannulf was tossed back and into the side of a mountain, moving the mass several feet. “Worthless little beast dog!
How dare you interfere with my people!”
The wolf got to his paws and bared his fangs. He didn’t like most other gods, but he especial y didn’t like this one. Chramnesind, the sightless one. An angry demon god whose only desire was to become the one and only god everyone worshipped. The only one everyone turned to when in need.
Something that Nannulf found completely unacceptable! “Do you think you’re stronger than me, dog? Do you think you can real y stop me?” Nannulf didn’t know, but he was always wil ing to try. He charged Chramnesind but even without eyes, the bastard stil saw wel enough, and he was fast. He caught Nannulf by the throat, slammed him to the ground, and held him there.
“It’s too late,” Chramnesind told him. “It’s much too late. Without your help, they’l never get there in time and Thracius wil destroy them. But you . .
. you wil pay for what you did to my mage. He was mine! Mine!”
A sword slid under Chramnesind’s chin and a soft voice asked, “What do you think you’re doing to my friend?” Chramnesind hissed, his tongue—a forked one—slashing across Eirianwen’s cheek, flesh burning.
Eir, the goddess of war, reached down and grabbed Chramnesind by his throat, lifting him to his feet.
“You,” she snarled, “dare chal enge me?”
Chramnesind pul ed his sword and slammed it into Eir’s bel y. They both looked down as her guts poured to the ground.
And that’s when Eir pul ed back her arm and shot-putted the demon god away from her.
“From my sight, you worthless bag of flesh! ” she roared, her voice booming across the land. “Or I will wipe your existence from this world! ” Chramnesind hissed at them again and dug into the ground, disappearing under the dirt.
Eir took in several breaths to get control of her rage; then she faced Nannulf.
“And you . . . what the f**k were you thinking?”
Nannulf shrugged.
“I protected you from Rhy, you know. Lied to him! Told him I had no idea where you were or what you were up to. But he’l know now, I can promise you that, because everyone wil tel him. Och! And don’t look at me like that. This is al your fault and you know it. You should have stayed out of it!” Eir spun away from him and marched off. “Wel , come on, you idiot! Let’s see if we can fix this!”
“You promised!” Annwyl said again while she and Izzy removed their ogre-blood-splattered tunics and army sandals and put on their own clothes.
“Would you stop saying that!”