The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,110
the name of my merciful god to allow me to enter so that I may bring the words of love and care of the god Simon to those who are within.”
Lars glanced at his men and asked, “Simon? You lot ever heard of a god named Simon?”
After getting nothing but head shakes, Lars returned his gaze to the nun, who had moved closer. All two thousand pounds of her. Well, she wasn’t that big but still . . .
“Sorry, Sister. You’ll have to take your words of love and whatever to someone else. We don’t need them here.” Grinning, he glanced at his men. “We wouldn’t want the ladies of this lovely town to change their ways toward us.”
The nun’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Yes. I’m sure they’ve all happily welcomed you into their town.”
“What?”
Her soft smile returned. “I asked that you please allow me inside so I may bless this place in the name of my god.”
Lars shook his head. “No, Sister. No one in or out.”
She disappeared for a moment as she moved her bulk, covered in white robes, closer to the gates; and Lars heard a loud, panicked screech. A moment later, the nun reappeared. There was blood splattered across her face and on her white robes.
“Woman, what have you done?” Lars demanded with a startled laugh.
“Cursed you!” she said dramatically. “My god will come down upon you! And you will know true suffering. Because you’re all bad men! Bad, bad, bad!”
“Your god Simon will come for us?” he asked with great sarcasm. “Yes, I shiver in fear. Now go.” He motioned to his bowmen. “Or we’ll leave your body as warning to others.”
“Bad men!” she said, shaking her finger. “Bad!” One of his bowmen leaned forward and the nun ran off screaming, hands above her head.
“Where are her mules?” one of the men asked.
“She left them, I guess.”
“Should we bring them in?”
“We’re not opening the gates for anyone. So no. They’ll wander off on their own.”
Lars motioned to one of the young boys they’d recruited from among the locals as squires. With a few words, he sent the boy to the other side of town to alert the bowmen on the back gates. He wanted them to keep a lookout for the nun.
But as the boy took off running, there was a banging at the front gates. Hard, brutal banging that didn’t stop.
“What is that?” he demanded, looking over the battlements in an attempt to see below. “What is that?”
His men and bowmen also leaned over the wall, trying to see below. That’s when he heard the sound, slicing through the air. He’d been a mercenary for decades and instinctively ducked. But he had many younger, less experienced men under his command and they were hit with arrows to the head, neck, and chests. Those who weren’t killed outright died when they fell from the wall and landed hard inside the city.
“Blow the horn!” Lars yelled to the men below. “We’re under attack!”
* * *
She heard the horn blow and knew that someone was attacking her town. She looked at her sister and Efa nodded. They’d be losing their hiding place but they couldn’t live like this much longer. Every time they had to steal food or get water, they put themselves—and the few who’d managed to make it into the safety of the tunnels under the town—at risk of being caught and killed by Straton’s men. Or worse. For the younger girls, there was always the promise of much worse.
Of course, who knew what horrors lay on the other side of that gate? It could be Prince Marius’s army trying to get in, and that royal was no better than his brother. But he had a queen now. Perhaps she would bring a bit of humanity to the men of the prince’s army.
As she gripped her sister’s hand one last time, the pair charged out of their hidden position toward the big wooden gates.
“Stop them!” someone yelled as she and Efa grabbed the wood pieces blocking the doors and lifted, tossing them aside.
Hands grabbed her, but she swung her arms, hitting the men, and lunged for the third and last piece of wood. She and Efa tossed it aside together as the soldiers caught her and her sister and dragged them away.
The doors banged open and . . . two mules ran in.
Two mules. Mules!
The soldiers laughed and one said to her, “I guess your great rescuers aren’t coming, whore!”