Page 30 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

Piet nodded to her. She smiled, then quickened her pace, following.

Terryl climbed into the coach, his horsemen ready to launch into a gallop. Cahra stood, Piet taking point on the side closest to the clearing.

‘What are you doing, Cahra? Get in,’ Terryl said.

‘In a minute.’ She narrowed her eyes, listening, sensing, for anything, any kind of sound or change in the air around them.

Annoyance flickered in Terryl’s gaze as he said to her, ‘Cahra, you’re not a warrior.’ The lord took a measured breath, trying again. ‘I understand your wish to contribute, I do. However, if you are truly the prophecy’s omen-bringer, then your protection is important.’ Terryl let his words hang in the silence. ‘Please,’ he urged, ‘get in the carriage.’

The concern for Raiden was all over Terryl’s face, so she’d forgive his tone, this once. Climbing into the coach, she positioned herself by the other window, sitting Terryl back and out of sight as she kept watch.

‘I told Raiden I’d find you,’ she murmured, reaching out with every sense she had, scanning for danger.

‘Well, you did,’ Terryl conceded, his stern expression relaxing as it lingered on her, Cahra rubbing her injured knee. ‘I am as safe as I am going to get.’

She just nodded.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said again, his tone of gentle concern.

She turned and looked down at her knee through the rips in her trouser leg. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I fell is all. Nothing broken, it’ll just swell a bit.’

‘Here.’ Terryl patted his seat. ‘I am told that elevation is required for such injuries.’ She went to argue, unable to consider plunking one of her muddy boots onto Terryl’s unspoiled cushions, when he reached for one. She shook her head. ‘Cahra,’ he pressed.

Finally, tentatively, she lowered her foot onto the gold-striped pillow.

Minutes later, facing the clearing, Cahra straightened as Raiden and the others emerged from the Wilds, her eyes flashing between them. Terryl’s second in charge limped, looking as guarded as ever as he returned, a tall woman with a tan leather satchel in tow. Queran and Siarl were fanned behind him, weapons out.

As Raiden approached, Cahra called out to him, ‘Should we be expecting trouble?’ Meanwhile, Piet gave Raiden a nod at the door.

Raiden shrugged off his jacket as he and the woman – a healer, Cahra realised, noting the hat, robes and bag of the Physicians’ Guild – climbed into the coach. Raiden sat heavily.

‘No. But we’d best not linger,’ he said, motioning out the window.

‘What happened?’ Terryl asked as the coach began to move.

Raiden removed his bloodied shirt and Cahra tried not to gawk as she saw stab wounds near the man’s lungs, but seemingly not in them. He was lucky it hadn’t been far worse. He gritted his teeth as the physician next to Cahra pulled a strip of cloth from her satchel and sprinkled it with a pungent-smelling liquid, before pressing it to Raiden’s side.

‘Do it, Merali,’ he ground out. The woman leaned forward, needle and twine breaking skin as she made several tight stitches to staunch the flow of blood. ‘What happened,’ Raiden said, gripping the armrest, ‘is that Cahra jumped out of a damn tree and disabled a soldier about to loose a crossbow at me.’

Terryl’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That is not what you told me,’ he said slowly.

Her cheeks felt hot. ‘You would have fussed, and there wasn’t time,’ she replied. Raiden snorted but nodded in recognition.

‘Well, Cahra, I take it back. Clearly, you are a warrior.’ Terryl’s brow furrowed. ‘Yet what of this attack? Was it related to our escape, or was it simply a happy coincidence?’ Despite his humour, worry crept through his usual mask of pleasantry.

‘Both. They were Kolyath scouts, and when interrogated, one revealed they’d stumbled across us while on duty. But they also knew that a group had escaped the gatehouse, a party with a caravan of wagons. When they found us…’ Raiden spread his palms.

‘Which means that more may follow.’ Terryl leaned forward, hands steepled.

‘Once their scouts fail to report in, at least. So we return to original measures. Minimal stops, the securest camps and the shortest time possible between here and home.’ Raiden hissed softly as Merali applied a swab doused in spirits to his stitches.

Terryl didn’t argue. ‘Agreed, we must get our people to safety.’

Raiden twisted, testing the stitches, before nodding to Merali and rebuttoning his shirt. ‘To Hael with that, I’ve half a mind to escort you back now.’ She’d never heard Raiden curse. She wondered if this was what he was really like with Terryl, or if it was just down to the blood loss.

The lord straightened. ‘No. Everyone here is at risk.’

Raiden looked ready to launch into an impassioned argument, then he noted Cahra. His face was drawn as he said to Terryl, ‘This is reckless. You know what Commander Tyne will say once he learns of this day’s events.’

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