Page 65 of Ashes of Betrayal

Breathing hard, Bree whipped around, her gaze traveling down the wynd to where a crowd of leather-clad warriors surged. Smoke billowed, and then shouting rang through the air.

Cailean cursed. “They’re inside.”

She cut him a look, witnessing the hard expression that had settled over his face. “What now?” she asked as her heart thundered in her chest. “Fight or flee?”

Their gazes fused. “How big is the Raven Queen’s army?”

She swallowed. “Last time I saw it, it was a thousand strong … at least.”

“To get up here, they’ve already defeated an army of three hundred at the base of the rock,” he replied. “Cannich’s garrison is half that number. They can’t hold the fort on their own … not without the High King’s help.” A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Whatever we do, this fort is going to fall.” He stepped close then, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’m not throwing our lives away. We flee.”

Her heart kicked against her ribs. “But how?” She gestured toward the gates, where screaming had begun. “That’s the only way out.”

A thin smile curved her husband’s lips, his gaze glinting. “Aye … but I have an idea.”

29: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE

“YOUR IDEA IS shit.” Bree folded her arms before her and lifted her chin. “Try coming up with a new one.”

Cailean shook his head, a groove etching between his eyebrows. “It’s the best … theonly… chance we have.”

“It’s madness.”

They’d returned to the ale-hall—pushing their way through smoky streets, and dealing with more powries and trow too, before reaching their destination. They were standing inside the stables, next to where Feannag snorted and pawed at the straw in his stall. The chaos raging close by, the clang of metal and screams, had put the stallion on edge.

In response, Cailean lifted the loop of rope he’d just taken down off the wall. “Only if we don’t put on a convincing show.” He stepped close then, challenge gleaming in his eyes. “Come on, Bree. Show me your courage.”

Heat swept over her. “I’m not afraid for me,” she whispered. “I can lie my way out of this if need be.” She broke off then, swallowing. “But the High King’s chief-enforcer is a prize, indeed. You don’t want Mor getting her hands on you.”

“She won’t. Not if we play this right.”

Her pulse leaped into a gallop. “You want me to take you prisoner?”

“Aye.” He thrust the coil of rope out to her. “Go on.” Impatience crept into his voice, his brow furrowing once more. “We don’t have time to stand here arguing. This must happen now … or not all.”

Growling a curse, Bree took the rope, her fingers tightening around it. She then raked her gaze over him, taking in the array of iron weapons strapped to his body. “You realize that you’re going to have to take all of that off?” she pointed out, her voice hardening. She had to make him understand what he was asking—just how vulnerable he’d be soon.

But Cailean didn’t hesitate. Instead, he nodded and started unbuckling the knife belt across his chest.

“Stand aside!” Bree yelled, her voice cutting through the din. “I’ve got the High King’s chief-enforcer!”

Yanking hard on the rope, she urged Feannag forward. She didn’t glance over her shoulder to see how Cailean was faring. She didn’t dare.

The only way this would work was if she pretended to be an assassin with a prize for her queen.

Her shout drew stares from the Shee warriors she approached. They were a fell sight: faces and silver scale armor smeared with grime and blood, their long hair rippling down their backs. The warriors wielded longswords, daggers, and longbows, but Bree faced them down.

And they watched as she rode straight for them, their eyes widening in surprise.

“The chief-enforcer!”

“By the Great Raven … what’s he doing here?”

“The queen’s assassin has him.”

It didn’t take long for word to spread, rippling down the wynd like a stone thrown into a still loch.

“Keep your distance,” Bree warned them. “Even without his iron blades, he’s dangerous.”

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