Page 69 of Ashes of Betrayal

Cailean’s already pounding heart lurched.

Moons earlier, he’d have been in the thick of things, slashing his broadsword through the press of Shee and their allies. He’d have defended the High King with his dying breath.

But that man had died, and another had been born. One that was no longer Talorc mac Brude’s dog. Just as Bree had turned her back on Mor.

They were both down there amongst the melee—the Raven Queen and the High King—and they’d likely face each other in the end.

He tore his gaze from where silver and black surged against each other, like two seas meeting, and looked back at the smoking fort. His gut twisted then. He couldn’t believe Cannich had fallen to the Shee. The ‘Jewel of the North’ was being destroyed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

At least Enya got out.

Aye, she had, although his sister was the least of his worries right now. His skin prickled as he continued to watch the fort burn. With Cannich taken, the northern Uplands would belong to the Shee.

Talorc mac Brude had to win this battle. If he didn’t, the delicate balance of power between their races would shatter, and they’d all be up to their necks in shit. And where would his allegiance lie then?

There’s much about you that’s good.

The night before, he’d hated himself, but his wife had pulled him free of the mire. Gods, he wanted to be the man Bree saw—wanted to make his life mean something half-decent. She thought he was loyal, steadfast, and protective, yet so far, he’d left nothing but a legacy of violence and death.

“What now?” Bree asked then.

Cutting his attention away from Cannich, he raked his gaze over her, checking for injuries. However, despite a shallow scratch to her cheek, she was unharmed.

His fierce Shee wife stared back at him, her eyes glowing. There was no mistaking the challenge in her stare—and Cailean would answer it.

“Yesterday, I discovered that the High King has brought his family north with him,” he replied. “They’ll be following the main host, traveling with the baggage train and rearguard most likely.”

A nerve flickered in Bree’s cheek. “Lara and Mirren are here?” she whispered.

“Aye, and the queen consort too.” He paused then, as screams from the battle below rent the air. “The High King has spent years amassing his armies, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough to defeat the might Mor has rallied … not with her new allies. We need to warn the rearguard and get the High King’s family tosafety.” He paused then, his gaze fusing with his wife’s. “I care what happens to Lara too,” he said softly. Indeed, he’d always respected her, and after she’d partnered him at blood-letting, a bond of sorts had formed between them. “I’ll not see the princess, or anyone with her, come to harm.”

Bree nodded, her jaw setting in a determined expression he knew only too well. She stepped back then and moved toward where Tivesheh waited with Skaal and Feannag. “Let’s go and find them.”

31: IN FOR THE KILL

TIVESHEH SPRINTED SOUTH. Trees passed by in a blur, branches whipping against Bree’s face. Crouched low over his withers, she was dimly aware of Skaal racing beside her. The fae hound was fleet, little more than flashes of moss-green through the dark of the trees. Behind her, the thunder of Feannag’s hooves warned Bree that Cailean was doing his best to keep up.

They cut through the woodland to rejoin the highway.

However, as Bree crested the last hill before a steep slope that angled down to where the road snaked through a pine-clad glen, she caught sight of a host of Shee warriors—at least two dozen of them—racing south on elks.

Drawing Tiv up, she leaned forward, her sharp eyesight scanning the group. Clad in black leather armor, their pitch-colored cloaks billowing behind them, the figures were distinctive. And just as distinctive was the swarm of stocky imps—with bobbing red caps upon their heads—crouched on the backs of mountain goats behind them.

“Iron,” she breathed, as her heart lurched into her throat. Even from this distance, she caught a flash of pale hair.

Gavyn Frostshard was leading them.

“Who are they?” Cailean pulled Feannag up next to her.

“Mor’s Ravens,” Bree replied. “Her personal bodyguard … the deadliest of all Shee fighters. And they’ve got over fifty powries with them.”

Cailean ground out a curse. “They’re going to reach the rearguard before us.”

“Aye.” Bree cut him a sidelong glance, seeing her own frustration mirrored on his face. “But not by much.”

Tivesheh ran as fast as The Sweeper, and yet he wasn’t fast enough to catch The Ravens.

Galloping on the road now, Bree caught sight of the camp ahead. Supply wagons—large wooden carts with hide awnings over them—had been parked in a wide circle around a carpet of tents. Riderless elks and mountain goats stalked outside the camp, waiting for the call of their masters.

---