Ruins of Chaos (Legacy of the Nine Realms #3) - Amelia Hutchins Page 0,164

a little hairy for me with Knox. I shuddered as his heated breath fanned my neck, sending warning bells off inside my head.

“Do you know what those flags mean, Aria?” Knox asked against my ear as Greer waited to accept me onto his horse. “If Lord Carter or his men are harmed or dead, so too, are your family,” he growled, tightening his hold on my waist punishingly. “The only ones alive who can fly a Hecate witch flag are you and your family. I know because I murdered all the others.”

“I’m aware of the logistics.” I stared down the long, winding cobblestone road that led into the stronghold.

A rider moved toward us rapidly, bringing his horse to a stop beside us. His face was tinted green, and his eyes were large and rounded. His mouth opened and closed, his head shaking at whatever he’d seen below.

“You’re going to want to see this, King Karnavious,” he said before leaning in the opposite direction, throwing up. “It’s a fucking slaughter.”

“Is anyone left alive down there?” Knox asked, and the man trembled violently before shaking his head slowly, using the back of his arm to wipe the saliva from it. “Take Aria, Greer. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

A chill snaked down my spine as I exhaled, allowing Greer to take hold of me from Knox’s grasp. Greer wrapped his arms around me, and we silently watched the men move toward the stronghold. My heart continued racing as my attention swung to the banners, watching the skull with the mark of Hecate whip in the punishing wind.

Clouds rumbled above us, spooking the horse, throwing Greer and me to the ground without warning. He grabbed me, checking for injury before his eyes slid toward the army that watched us curiously. Once he was satisfied that I wasn’t harmed, Greer exhaled.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping my chin to look at my face.

“I’m fine,” I swallowed. “This looks really bad, though,” I whispered, and he gave me a tight-lipped smile that did nothing to dispel my fears.

“That depends, Peasant. If the lord and lady are well, Knox won’t be too upset. They’re some of Queen Liliana’s oldest living friends. They helped Knox through his grief greatly when he struggled for purpose. They’ve held this stronghold for over one thousand years and are very powerful. I am sure they’re fine, all things considered. They probably escaped. They’re very resourceful. They have to be to live on the border of Norvalla and Vãkya.”

“Somehow, with that flag flying, and Lord Carter guarding the gate to Hecate’s tomb, I doubt anything is going to be fine.” I turned when another rider approached, glaring at me as his nostrils flared with unhidden anger and disgust. “Nothing good comes from that flag, Greer. Nothing,” I finished, moving forward as Greer walked with me.

“Bring the witch to the king, Sir Greer,” the warrior said coldly, his eyes narrowing on me with violence.

The walk into the village was torture itself. The closer we got, the stronger the scent of death became. I passed through the large, foreboding gates and stopped. Bodies hung from trees, their heads placed beneath them on a bed of midnight rose petals, causing a sickly sweet scent of decay to slither into my senses.

Animals had begun eating the dead, moving over corpses to scurry away from having their meal interrupted. Canine-type creatures ripped limbs from the dead, baring teeth when we passed as the warriors in our group moved forward, preventing them from reaching us. Rats squealed, and I shivered as I watched one moving into the mouth of a skull that was discarded like trash.

The walls of the stronghold were covered in blood, painted with entrails that were tossed out with purpose. Whoever had done this, they went to great lengths to stage the entire village and keep for maximum shock value. My body trembled as additional torches were lit, exposing more of the dead piled on top of each other, their heads removed before being placed in a neat stack that lined the inner-city wall.

I moved deeper into the street, pausing as more skulls came into view. These held the mark of Hecate, and an X was painted in blood across the mark. Slowly, I slid my stare toward their corpses, finding their stomachs opened with their uteruses placed neatly onto their chest. The babes from their wombs adorned the wall behind them, tiny and lifeless, and no more than a few months in development.