Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,43

drifted through the air, bringing my hunger alive.

I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. After working through the night my stomach had turned into a growling beast.

“The villagers say that it was the Ring of Shadows that set the fire. The royal army did nothing to intervene. And now they are saying that every village across the realm has been ordered to pay ten percent more in taxes to the Seat of Power in order to pay for future protection. People or places that do not comply will be left to the devices of the Shadows.”

“Ten percent more?” Hunger disappeared, replaced with white hot fury. “The villagers don’t have more to give, Oliver!”

Oliver jumped to his feet again. “Then we need to be on our way as soon as possible. The sooner we arrive in Elysia, the better.”

My voice shook when I asked, “Do you think I can do anything? Change anything?”

Oliver turned away from me, walking to the pen where the horses had been temporarily confined.

He returned with my satchel. He set it in my lap and my hands instantly gripped the smooth leather, clutching the precious cargo hidden inside. Shiksa poked her head out of the flap and lifted her pink nose to sniff the still smoky air.

“You have to,” he told me. “There is no other choice.”

Thunder cracked through the air. It rumbled through the camp, causing gasps from the women and growls of concern from the men. When the thunder continued to pound, I realized it wasn’t thunder at all, but horses’ hooves racing toward us.

The rebel army pulled their weapons and turned to face the quickening roar of hooves beating against the dirt road. I jumped to my feet next to Oliver, slinging on my satchel and searching in vain for my weapon.

I’d set it down sometime yesterday. It had been in my way, clanking at my side and swinging wildly whenever I needed to hurry. I didn’t know if it was still where I had left it or if someone had moved it to a safer location. Either way, I didn’t have it with me now.

“I’m weaponless,” I hissed at Oliver.

Eret’s low chuckle announced his arrival. He stood near us with weapon drawn. “That is too bad, m’lady,” he murmured. “Because it seems that you are in need of a blade.”

A team of riders and their mounts careened around the bend in the road, coming upon us with obvious determination. The newcomers surrounded the camp in the next minute. Horses whinnied while their riders ordered them to be still. Women screamed and the tension in the air grew as thick as the smoke from the day before.

I reached for Oliver’s hand, grasping it tightly in mine. “Who are these men?” I whispered to Eret. I searched for Tenovia’s coat of arms on their breastplates or tunics but did not find it.

Eret stepped back to cover me more fully with his body. “A sworn enemy,” he whispered back.

My heart dropped to my toes and I thought I would be sick. I wasn’t ready for another life or death situation.

At the very least I needed a weapon to protect myself.

The lead mount dropped from his seat and hollered out a gruff greeting to Arrick. The two men met in the middle of the camp. Arrick looked as though he could kill. And the expression on the stranger was no less severe.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get stupider, Arrick the Imposter.” the stranger bellowed.

Arrick pulled his sword and returned, “And I didn’t think it was possible for you to get uglier, Gunter the Abominable.”

My skin prickled with anticipation. I scanned the camp. Leaning nearby was the closest thing to a weapon I could find, a fire poker, still red at the tip.

Just when I decided to make a move to grab the iron poker, Arrick and Gunter reached out with strong arms and clasped them together while slapping each other on the back in greeting. Their heads tipped back and they began to laugh.

I looked to Eret. “Sworn enemy?”

He gave me a sly look and shrugged. “They’re also loyal allies.”

I opened my mouth to ask how that worked when Arrick turned to the camp and shouted, “Prepare a good meal, my friends. Tonight, we celebrate that help has at last arrived!”

“I thought we were the help,” Oliver mumbled.

I shared a look with him. “At least we’re not the meal.”

13

As it turned out, not all of Gunter’s riders were men. Women and children