Page 5 of The Twisted Throne

What was she missing?

The Harendellians had regained some control, and the sails dropped, the ship slowing.

But it was too little, too late.

The ship slammed against the heavy stone of the pier. Wood crunched, the impact knocking all aboard off their feet, the battle stopped in its tracks.

But only for a heartbeat.

Clambering upright, soldiers and crew threw themselves at each other again, blades and blood glinting in the sun.

What was going on?

Aren stood in the middle of the pier, weapon in hand, as he shouted orders. Behind him sat row after row of wine barrels that the Amaridians had delivered. Slowly, the lid on one of them rose, eyes peering out.

Oh God.This wasn’t a mutinied crew. This was an Amaridian attack.

Lara screamed, wild and desperate. “Aren! Behind you!”

Her brother’s eyes widened, and he started to turn.

But it was too late.

The tops of the winebarrels lifted as one, and then men spilled out of them, armed to the teeth.

Amaridian soldiers, but every one of them wore tunics of identical cut and color to what Ithicanians wore.

Aren lifted his weapon, but the Amaridians ignored him. They sprinted toward the Harendellian ship and then leapt onto the deck to join the fray.

To the other Harendellian vessel sailing in fast, it would appear Ithicana was attacking the royal vessel.

“Protect the prince,” Ahnna screamed at the Ithicanians in earshot, but it was chaos. Three nations of soldiers fighting in a melee. The Harendellian soldiers were panicking, attacking the Ithicanians trying to help them, Ahnna’s people forced to defend themselves.

If she didn’t keep the prince alive, it could mean war with Harendell. And that wasn’t a war Ithicana could win.

“Stay out of the fight,” she shouted at Lara. She threw the necklace at her, then raced toward the ship, eyeing the gap between itand the pier. Gathering herself, Ahnna leapt, flying over the space and rolling across the deck onto her feet.

Everywhere was blood and carnage, Ithicanians and Harendellians and Amaridians dead or dying, but still the battle raged.

“Pull back,” Aren shouted, his voice barely audible over the crash of weapons and the screams of the injured. But the Ithicanian soldiers heard their king, withdrawing and dragging the wounded with them.

Ahnna ignored the order.

Snatching up a fallen blade, she flung herself into the battle, cutting through the enemy ranks. “They aren’t Ithicanians!” she shouted at a group of Harendellians fighting back-to-back, their uniforms splattered with blood. “They’re Amaridians!”

The soldiers gaped at her.

“Amarid is trying to assassinate your prince!” she screamed. “Go to him!”

It took three Ithicanian arrows whistling past her and into the backs of Amaridians before the Harendellians finally sprang into action.

Casting a backward glance, Ahnna saw Lara, Aren, and a dozen others with bows picking off the Amaridian soldiers and mutinied crew members, but the ship had drifted too far away from the pier for them to board.

Swearing, Ahnna raced after the soldiers, leaping over bodies as she searched for any sign of Prince William, praying the portrait she’d seen of him was accurate. She caught sight of a group of Amaridians massed on the rear of the quarterdeck, moving against a tall man in a uniform thick with braids and brass. Sunlight glinted off hair more copper than the portrait, his features more masculine than the artist had depicted, but the uniform left no doubt in Ahnna’s mind that this was Prince William.

The man she was supposed to marry.

If both of them lived long enough.

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