“The armies of the Seventh stand before you.” Cyntha’s voice rose, loud enough for those around to hear. “None must be left alive!”
The King lifted his hand, but before he could speak, a commotion ahead caught his attention. Lydia squinted, catching sight of a rider just ahead of the front lines shouting at those whose arrows were trained at him. His face was too blurry for her to make out, but instinct told her who it was. “Killian?”
He wheeled his horse around, eyes scanning the snow-covered trees.
Another assassin. Of course Malahi wouldn’t have banked everything on Lydia’s success.
Then Killian dug his heels into the sides of his horse, the animal leaping forward. Not galloping toward the King, but in the path of—
“No!” Lydia screamed, but she was helpless to stop the spear that punched into Killian’s unarmored side.
Lydia lashed her reins against her horse’s neck, driving the animal through the soldiers surrounding the King, barely hearing the shouts of those around her.
Killian was swaying in the saddle, his shirt already drenched with blood, and then slowly he toppled off the horse.
A howl tore from her throat, and Lydia flung herself off the side of her own mount, falling to the ground and crawling to his side.
There was blood everywhere.
“No, no, no!” She reached for him, but he caught her wrists.
“Don’t.” The word was strangled, but his grip was strong. “They’ll see. They’ll know.”
He was right. She could sense the soldiers who’d gathered around them, hear the faint drone of their voices. But she didn’t care. “You’ll die if I don’t.”
“Doesn’t. Matter.”
His grip on her was weakening. Marked or not, he was dying, and she refused to lose him.
Not like this.
Turning to the watching soldiers, she said, “On my count, I need you to pull the spear out.”
“It will kill him,” one of them said.
“It won’t,” she answered. “Because I’m going to save him.”
“Lydia…”
“One,” she said, seeing the soldier take hold of the spear. “Two.” He braced his heels.
“Don’t.” Killian’s eyes were pleading.
Bending over, she pressed her lips to his, silencing him even as their fingers interlaced. “Three.”
66
KILLIAN
Agony tore through him, like his insides were being twisted and torn out of his body.
Everything went black. For a heartbeat. A moment. A lifetime.
Then with a gasp, Killian jerked upright, the pain gone. All of it. Not just from Bercola’s spear, but every cut and bruise and torn muscle vanquished.
Lydia.
She was slumped next to him, fragile and ancient, her hair totally white.
Please, no. With a shaking hand, he pressed fingers against her throat, relief filling his chest at the faint pulse he found there.
“Eastern bank is signaling that they’ve been breached,” someone shouted, cutting through the noise building around him.
“You have to go.”
Her voice was little more than a whisper, but her green eyes were steady.
“I’m not leaving you.” He’d left her too many times. He wouldn’t do it again.
“You have to. They need you.” Her hand found his, gripping it hard. “This was the chance you wanted.”
It was, but not like this.
“Go.”
It wasn’t a request, but a command, and Killian’s skin prickled. “Get somewhere safe,” he said. “I’ll find you.”
Accepting the reins of a horse, he mounted, riding out among the cavalry of the Royal Army, pulling the blood-smeared page full of the High Lords’ signatures out of his pocket. “Seven of the Twelve Houses of Mudamora have spoken,” he shouted. “It is their will that Serrick Rowenes be removed from the throne, and in his place, Malahi Rowenes to be crowned Queen of Mudamora.”
From across the masses of soldiers, he saw Serrick’s glare, but Killian found his gaze drawn to the older woman in white robes at his side. She met Killian’s stare, then reined her mount away from the King’s, riding hard in the opposite direction. Killian’s skin burned like fire ants marched across it, but whatever she was up to, he didn’t have time to deal with it now.
“On the far side of that river,” he shouted to the mounted men, “stand not only soldiers, but your mothers. Your wives. Your sisters. All who have fought day and night to hold back our enemy so that your children have a chance to flee to safety. They have bled and died so those you love might live another day. Will you leave them to fight alone? Or will you ride with me now and send these bastards to the underworld?”
The army roared their answer, the sound growing as his words passed back through the