“You must return to Pyraan, Your Grace,” Colbie said quietly, his blue eyes filled with remorse but firm. “It is the law. It is the King’s law.”
Her anger flared and she stalked back to him. “Captain, my patience is running thin. I can’t return to Pyraan because there is no Pyraan! It does not exist! I am issuing a royal order for you to escort me and my traveling party to my father immediately. Either comply with that order or I will ride through you. Which will it be?”
All was silent in the woods.
“Well, Captain Nash? Are you going to refuse a command from the Princess of Iserlohn?”
So much for subtlety.
Long ingrained tradition won out and the captain immediately dropped to his knee and banged a fist to his heart. “Of course not, Your Grace. We will escort you at once.”
Kiernan let out her breath slowly. “Thank you, Captain. Please rise.”
Colbie stood, gave a rapid hand signal and the Sabers melted back into the woods, presumably to retrieve their mounts. The young captain broke the tension by smiling at her and taking the reins of her horse. “Allow me, Princess.”
She smiled back and gestured to the rest of the party to dismount and follow their lead.
As she walked ahead on the pathway with the captain, he leaned his head close to her to whisper, “For the record, Your Grace, I do remember that kiss.”
Kiernan gasped aloud as she looked at her old friend. “You did not kiss me, Colbie Nash! You tried, but you were unsuccessful.”
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, believe me, I was successful, Princess. I have thought often of that kiss over the past six years.”
Kiernan felt a faint tremor beneath her feet.
“Kiernan,” Beck growled, appearing at her shoulder. “We need to move faster if we’re to reach Nysa before dark.” He snatched the reins of her horse from Colbie. “Lead on, Captain.”
***
After several hours of navigating the forest, Kiernan finally glimpsed her childhood home through the leafy foliage ahead. If a palace can be referred to as a home.
High twin turrets thrust up from behind a black, granite curtain wall that rose fifty feet into the air. Crimson and black pennants flapped in the late afternoon wind from the spaced intervals between the crenellations of the wall.
In contrast to the stark stone of the outer wall, however, Kiernan knew that the city that lay beyond held remarkable beauty and grandeur. The colors of nature may be Beck’s world, but the colors of the city are mine.
She hadn’t realized how excited she was to show Beck her old life. In Pyraan, she never dared to dream that it would ever be possible.
Now, though, she erased all emotion from her face and mentally steeled herself for the commotion her unexpected arrival was sure to create.
Captain Nash led the way through the throng of tents that made up the public marketplace outside of the walled city. All around them, hawkers eagerly promoted their wares offering an assortment of trinkets, beads, ribbons, cloth, dyes, tools and even delicious-smelling cinnamon cakes and roasted meats. The aromas made her empty stomach grumble in protest.
They passed charlatans dressed in colorful headdresses attempting to seduce customers into their establishments with the promise of rich fortunes in their futures, and a man with a painted face walked on stilts to the delight of the children following behind him.
On any given day, the sight of the Royal Guard returning to the city escorting travelers would be cause for hushed whispers and speculation. Today, sight of the enormous snow-white Draca Cat padding regally in front of the Sabers sent the people in the market into a frenzy, and the shouts rang out.
“It’s Bajan! Look! Bajan has returned!”
“No, it can’t be. He is exiled with the Princess!”
“If Bajan has returned, do you think the Princess is here as well?”
Now, they were rushing forward, necks craning to get a glimpse of the travelers.
“Is that her?”
Kiernan slowly and deliberately lowered the hood of her cloak so there could be no mistake.
A cheer went up from the people of Nysa and they all dropped to one knee.
The Princess of Men was home.
Chapter 13
The Land of Men
Beck felt as though he had entered another world when the wide iron gates of Nysa opened in front of him. He had never seen so many buildings, and lights and people in his entire life. Numerous merchant shops and stately two-story manors lined the main cobblestone thoroughfare, and a veritable maze of streets and alleyways branched off in every direction.
The modest buildings and homes in Parsis paled in comparison to the opulence in Nysa, and Beck felt conspicuously out of place. He could see now why Kiernan had always felt so trapped in Pyraan. After having grown up with all of the bustle and luxury of a large city, the much smaller Parsis must have seemed very remote and backwards.
As was the case outside of the city, the Nysians bent a knee to Kiernan when they saw her, but Beck noticed that two people, a man and a woman, only bowed their heads to her. When he asked her why, she explained that they were a higher-ranking lord and lady of King Maximus’s Court rather than common folk, so a nod was acceptable.
Common folk? Am I not common folk?
Suddenly feeling awkward at the displays of veneration to the girl he loved, he fell back in line. Bajan had no such difficulties. He strolled out in front of Kiernan, accepting the excited welcome of the people with the posture of a cat getting his ears scratched.
Rogan nudged his horse up next to Beck. “We’ve been extremely lucky so far, but someone very soon is going to notice old Big and Scary over here,” he said, jerking a thumb at Titus.
“I know. Any ideas?”
He nodded. “As soon as we get to the palace, the groomsmen working the stables will come to get the horses. I’ll just tell them we have a sick friend and ask if he can lie down in one of the lofts. Airron can help me get him inside out of sight while you and Kiernan talk to the King.”
Beck raised an appreciative eyebrow. “It might work. Go tell Airron and Titus so they can play their roles, and I’ll talk to Kiernan. Rory can come with us.” He rode back up to the front next to Kiernan and informed her of Rogan’s idea.
She nodded in agreement. “It will be better if I can explain Titus to my father before he actually lays eyes on him.”
“What do you think your father is going to do about Ravener’s demand for surrender?”
Kiernan barked out a laugh. “You have never met my father, Beck. He will not take kindly to this ultimatum and will fight like a cornered lion to protect his people.”
Beck’s stomach tightened as he thought of his parents and the rest of the shifters in Pyraan. “You saw what happened when we decided to fight.”
She turned to look at him. “Are you saying you think we should just give up?”
“Of course not!” he said at once. “But you now know what a Mage of Adrian Ravener’s power is capable of.” He reached over to grab her hand. “We need to get to Galen Starr somehow.”
Kiernan shook her head. “My father won’t want to hear that, Beck, nor will any of the people of Iserlohn. They mistrust magic. They’ll want to fight the only way they know how. With swords.”
“And that is the fight we must avoid at all costs,” he said ruefully.
***
With Rogan, Airron and Titus safely tucked away in the stables, Colbie Nash and half a dozen of the Royal Guard led Kiernan and Bajan along with Beck and Rory toward the sweeping stairs of the palace. A trumpeter from the balcony above the doors signaled the royal procession refrain, but it was unnecessary. Word had traveled fast. The double doors etched with the Golden Lion of House Everard were thrown open wide and people rushed out to line both sides of the stairs to greet her. Those gathered were in all manner of dress from soldier uniform to servant livery to formal attire.
Tears welled in Kiernan’s eyes a
s she greeted people she had not seen in years.
“Kiernan!” The shriek came from the top of the stairs, and a pretty, dark-haired girl came running toward her with skirts lifted high in both hands exposing her leather ankle boots and a bit of leg stocking. The girl ignored the disapproving looks from the women and threw herself into Kiernan’s arms. She was shorter and softer in body than Kiernan and had the most gorgeous dark blue eyes.
“It’s so good to see you, Larkin,” Kiernan told her, breaking the embrace to stare at her face. “I’ve missed you so much, and I have so much to tell you!” Just like that, she was twelve years old again, anxious to share all of her secrets.
“Well, well,” came a deep, alto voice from behind Kiernan. “If it isn’t my little girl come home.”
Kiernan spun around.
“Miss Belle!” she yelled and ran up the stairs to bury her face in the ample bosom of the dark-skinned woman.
“Hello, child,” she said, rubbing the back of Kiernan’s hair. “It’s been much too long. And look at you! You’re as thin as a reed!”
Kiernan smiled. “I’ve missed you, Miss Belle, more than you know. Where is Father?”
“Oh, that ole curmudgeon should be on his way. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up and fed first.” She gestured for Beck, Rory and Bajan to follow. “You, too, Mistress Larkin. I know you won’t want to be away from Kiernan now that she’s returned home.”
Kiernan ran back down to thread her arm through Larkin’s and sighed with relief. Beyond her greatest hope, the people of Nysa seemed genuinely pleased at her return. She wondered if they truly accepted that she was a shifter or if they simply chose to believe that the rumor was untrue.
She stopped in her tracks when she noticed her father standing at the top of the stairs in front of the open palace doors. As soon as she saw the look in his eyes, she realized that her relief may have been premature.
***
Kiernan didn’t remember later if it was her magic that warned her or if she had actually heard the thrum of the bowstring as it was released. Either way, a fraction of a second after noticing her father on the steps above, her head snapped to the right and she pushed Larkin to the side, drew her sword over her back and swung it in a sweeping arc high overhead to cut the hurtling arrow out of the air.
Captain Nash, on the step below Kiernan, shouted, “Assassin! Protect the King!”
The two Sabers who preceded the King out of the palace, crashed into him, pitching him backwards onto the marble floor of the foyer.
Colbie turned, flung himself down the steps and leapt onto the shooter, sending the second shot of the would-be murderer flying wide. The assassin collapsed to the ground and tried to shake the Royal Saber off his back. Without the slightest hesitation, Colbie lifted the head of the hooded man by the jaw and drew his knife across his throat.
The brutal deed complete, the Saber stepped away and let the man’s head thud to the ground, blood spraying across the cobblestones.
“Who would dare such a thing?” someone spat.
In response, Colbie flipped the assassin over and stripped off his hood. Horrified gasps issued from those on the steps.
It was a Cyman soldier, his one eye fluttering closed.
More screams suddenly erupted from the eastern end of the thoroughfare and the main outer gates. Kiernan’s eyes turned black.
Bajan! Hurry and find Rogan and Airron. Tell them to meet us at the entrance gate.
The Draca Cat hesitated. I will not leave you.
Kiernan reached up and grabbed the enormous furry face between her hands.
You must. And, afterwards, I want you to stay and guard Titus. He must remain hidden. His life will be forfeit if he is discovered now. Do this for me, Bajan.
His life means nothing to me.
All life has meaning. What kind of Princess would I be if I did not value life? It is my duty to serve and protect.
Yes, to protect the people of Massa.
To protect the innocent, Bajan. There may be a time when I will have to kill to protect the innocent, and I will do so without hesitation, but Titus has not proven himself my enemy yet. I must go. Please do as I say.
The Draca gave her a frustrated nudge and then sprinted toward the stables. Beck, who had been waiting patiently while she conversed with Bajan, grabbed her arm as soon as her eyes resumed their natural color and propelled her down the stairs.
Weaving through the pedestrians on the street, they arrived at the outer wall just as the gates to the city were opening for a second time. Frightened citizens began pouring through in a panic from the marketplace beyond.
Kiernan elbowed Beck and ran for the stairs that led to the gatehouse above.
The sentry standing guard inside looked over as the door opened and immediately stood to block their way.
“Stand down, soldier, it’s me, Princess Kiernan.”
His face registered shock and he nodded respectfully to her. “Your Grace.”
The fact that he did not kneel, told her that the wall was now considered a battlefield. Soldiers did not observe convention during times of war.
“What’s happening?” she asked him.
“We’re not quite sure, Your Grace, but I suggest you take a look.”
Opening the gatehouse door to the parapet, she pushed through the assembled soldiers and scanned the open plains east of Nysa. Although she expected it, she still inhaled sharply at sight of the host of Cyman soldiers.
A scuffle behind turned her around in time to see Rogan and Airron plow through the gatehouse door, followed by the irate sentry.
“It’s all right, soldier,” said Kiernan. “They’re with me.”
The soldier looked at Rogan and Airron for a long, hard moment before returning to his post in the gatehouse.
A thunderous roar sounded from beneath them and the wall trembled as Nysa’s Cavalry charged out through the open gates to offer protection to the people still streaming in from the marketplace. On the finest and fastest horses on the island, the renowned regiment tore out into the open grasslands in a flagrant show of strength, reigning in their mounts in a dramatic stop as they faced the enemy in a barefaced challenge.
“Princess!” barked a gruff voice. “You shouldn’t be here right now! It’s too dangerous. I’ll have one of the Sabers escort you back to the palace.”
Kiernan recognized Bo Franck, captain of the Iserlohn army, muscling his way toward her. Whereas Captain Nash was responsible for the protection of King Maximus and the royal family, Captain Franck led the defense of the city. At age five, Captain Franck had been the one to teach Kiernan how to ride her first pony and at the age of six, how to swing her first sword.
Kiernan smiled fondly at him. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Captain Franck.”
He did not smile back, but said just as fondly. “To me you are.”
“As your Princess and, more importantly, as a shifter, I am asking you and your men to stand down.”
The captain’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. “We can handle this, Your Grace. We don’t need magic to protect us. Never have and never will.”
She sighed. “Can you do it with no lives lost, Captain? Because we can.”
Her old instructor looked at her in assessment for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. “But, balls, girl, just be careful. Your father will hang me by mine if you get hurt.”
Beck growled next to her, bringing her focus once again to the plains. A Cyman in the middle of the throng raised his arms and taunted the Calvary. Kiernan recognized him as the soldier they encountered after the destruction of Pyraan.
“It’s Teag,” she said. “He’s the one leading this horde.” She also remembered the threat Teag issued to Beck just days before that one of them would not survive their next meeting. Beck Atlan is not going to die this day, Teag. Not if I have anything to say about it.
“I don’t get this,” Airron suddenly said.
“What don’t you get?
” Beck asked.
“Why are they here? If my estimate is correct, there are at most five hundred troops out here. How can they possibly expect to oppose Nysa’s armies?”
Kiernan shouted for a range finder to get a closer look. “Maybe they don’t mean to fight,” she said as a Saber handed her the tubular device and she peered through the shaft. “This could just be a scouting mission. After all, Ravener probably doesn’t know much about the capabilities of Massa’s militia.”
Beck ran his hands through his hair. “No. They will fight.”
Rogan looked surprised at his conviction. “Why do you say that?”
Captain Franck turned to face them. “What in demon’s breath is a Cyman? Is it as big and ugly as the group sitting out there?” he asked, sweeping his hand out to the east.
“Yes, Captain, those are Cymans,” Beck replied. “If I’m correct, Teag and his soldiers are Ravener’s sacrificial lambs. He knows they won’t survive this encounter, and I’d bet that the assassin wasn’t even meant to succeed in killing King Maximus.” When everyone looked at Beck in question, he continued. “Remember what my father said? Ravener specializes in terror. He probably feels that if he can frighten the people of Massa enough, they will do anything he asks. They’ll bow down to him.”
“Who is Ravener?” the captain interrupted.
“A Mage who wants to rule Massa,” Beck answered offhandedly and turned back to the shifters. “Although Ravener knows that the Cymans will be destroyed, he probably figures that they will at least take out a large number of forces along the way. In his mind, this would be a fair trade for the fealty of Iserlohn’s people. I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that Teag leads this force. He’s being punished for not bringing back Titus as he was ordered to do. This is his death sentence.”
“Who is Titus?” asked Captain Franck in exasperation.
“A Cyman soldier,” Kiernan answered and then looked at Beck. “So, the Mage is forfeiting this battle to win the war.”
“Exactly.”
Kiernan jerked around at the sound of the now familiar Cyman war horn and hundreds of Cyman soldiers began sprinting at remarkable speed toward Nysa.