Page 91 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

By the Oracles, he thought.How many of the fiends are here?

He watched, helpless, as Atriposte’s Commanders, Jarett of the Steward’s guards and Sullian of his army, glared at one another. Sullian laughed bitterly, his scarred face full of scorn for his brother.

Decimus’ eyes lit up, the King of Ozumbre delighting in the spectacle of Kolyath’s Commanders and their vitriol. Thierre supposed the man knew something of sibling discord, given Decimus’s own brother, his twin Diabolus, was Commander of Ozumbre’s own army. And the only enemy kingdom senior official missing from this cell.

Jarett turned his spiteful gaze from Sullian’s mocking to the Ozumbre King. ‘Speaking of brothers, sister kingdom sire – where, pray, is yours?’

‘Doing as I was,’ Sullian interrupted, one hand at his back as he waved another at whatever was beyond the room’s door. ‘Readying the forces, a task I shall return to shortly.’ He bowed before his Steward. ‘But first, I proffer a gift.’

Readying their forces for what?

A blue twinkle caught his eye, then another, and Thierre latched onto it, that hue, and the memories that glided back. Cahra’s longsword. The mere sight of it warmed him.

Or was that the fever of sepsis setting in?

He laughed at the futility of his situation, of dying at the most leisurely of paces – and now, of course, the omen-bringer’s sword. At least the blade might help keep him alive; that, and him never having crossed paths with King Decimus face to face before, so the room knew him as Lord Terryl and not an iota more. Yet even that cover may not save him for long.

Jarett’s gaze snapped to Thierre and his muted laughter. He marched over, unsheathing a dagger and pointing its tip at Thierre.

‘Something to say, merchant lord?’

Commander Sullian picked up Cahra’s sword, touching his finger to the pommel’s Sigil of the Seers. The man smirked as he casually held the blade, its sharpened point angled nonchalantly at his brother. Jarett snarled at Sullian.

‘A lord?’ a frayed voice pondered, reverberating, from the shadows. ‘A lord…’

Oracles, who now?Not Diabolus. Thierre squinted in the dim light.

‘A lord.’ The off-white cloak of a figure emerged and all Thierre could make out under its hood were two lavender orbs. ‘No.’ It raised an arm. ‘The lord is a fabrication.’

Oh, HAEL.

In a heartbeat, Jarett’s cold anger boiled into a torrid rage. He advanced, intending to slash Thierre’s throat, roaring, ‘In His Excellency’s kingdom?’

Only Sullian had the sense to hold Jarett back. ‘Then what is fact, Oracle?’

The white figure withdrew its hood, the man beneath it tutting as he said, ‘Now, now. It is rude not to introduce yourself, Prince Thierre of Luminaux.’

CHAPTER 36

‘Again!’

Cahra ground her teeth, two hands gripping the great-hammer poised above her head. With careful footwork, she let it fall, the metal block carving a low arc behind her as she hefted on the upswing to raise it overhead again.

‘Again!’ Piet shouted, in time with her heaving breaths. She’d asked for this, for training drills to channel her anger and fear, hammer in hand, like she would’ve in Kolyath. Before anyone else got hurt.

The Ozumbre soldier in the caves flashed back to her, the man’s pulverised armour, his organs – his ribs, his heart – spilling out from the magick Thelaema had unleashed. Cahra shook the stiffness from her shoulders, as if to oust the self-loathing now battling the numbness in her mind, flailing desperately to save her from her feelings. From herself and what she’d almost done. Cahra gritted her teeth and swung.

Again!

She couldn’t rest, couldn’t face the idea of being alone with her thoughts now that she’d volunteered her life for Thierre’s.

Forfeited it. That’s what Thelaema had muttered into her mind as she and Wyldaern left the den of war. She knew the Oracle was angry, as angry with Cahra as the woman was with her own pupil. But even Wyldaern understood that Cahra being Empress didn’t make Thierre’s life expendable, and she was thankful for that support.

She might trust the Oracle, but Thelaema had made enough choices on her behalf. This time, she would decide the danger she’d be walking into.

And that danger was the two most violent rulers in the realm.

Before she could rattle through a fresh list of gemstones to distract her, Cahra heard footsteps outside Luminaux’s training arena.

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