Page 35 of Blood Weaver
At his admission, I felt guilty for putting him in that situation. He was just a child, after all.
He turned his frightened, tear-streaked face toward mine. “When I escaped, most of the Crimson Clan had been killed and Ronan was barely hanging on.Please…”
If I got involved, I would make enemies of both Caelan and the Valorian army. And using my blood to fight would be a dead giveaway to my identity, which I wasn’t quite ready to reveal.
But… I owed Ronan from when he saved me and Orion from the bandits the other night. I hated owing others.
I sighed and relented. “Okay, Henry, I’ll help. But I want you to go to my clinic and stay there for the night while I go and see if I can help them. If I’m not back by tomorrow morning, go to Selene at the Rose Petal. You know who she is?”
He nodded. “The pretty mermaid.”
“Good.” I smiled and patted his shoulder. “Now go. I’ll take care of it.”
Without another thought, Henry spun on his heels and ran in the direction of my clinic. With another sigh, I glanced toward the post where horses were tied and debated if their owner would let me borrow one. I didn’t know who to ask and I didn’t have time for all that anyway, so I jogged to the nearest horse, untied the reins, and quickly climbed on. I’d find out tomorrow whose horse I stole and pay them for it.
Now, I needed to save Ronan.
The ridethrough the forest that led to the mountains was enveloped in an eerie silence only occasionally interrupted by rustling leaves and the distant cries of nocturnal creatures. The moon, half-veiled by swirling clouds, cast an enigmatic glow that painted the woods in shadowy hues of silver and gray. My heart raced, each beat resonating with the hooves of my steadfast horse that courageously galloped through the dark, uncertain paths.
As we broke through the dense forest, the imposing sight of the mountains loomed before us, standing like ancient sentinels. Their peaks pierced the star-studded skies, holding within themsecrets and memories of ages long past. The air grew colder, and the biting wind carried tremulous whispers of what was to come.
With every hoofbeat we ascended higher, punctuated by narrowing paths and fierce winds. The echoes of the ongoing battle resounded through the silent corridors of the mountains, a haunting concerto of death and valor.
I arrived at the cliffs and gazed down at the tumultuous river below that seemed to roar in unison with the clashing swords and war cries. The Valorian army, like a sea of armored watchmen, had surrounded the cliff, their steel armor gleaming ominously under the moon's haunting light.
Ronan, injured yet unyielding, stood like a wounded lion, soaked with the blood of both friend and foe. The Crimson Clan, outnumbered though undeterred, fought with the unbridled ferocity of desperate men.
I didn’t know how to penetrate the army to get to Ronan or how to alert Caelan and stop him, which was another concern of mine. I also didn’t understand why my former friend – a prince from another country – was the one leading the Valorian army while Marcellus was lounging at the pleasure house. Something was off.
It would take too long to figure out where there was an opening or a weak spot in the Valorian army’s line, which meant my only option was to forcefully push my way through and hope for the best. Leaning forward, I gripped the reins tightly and kicked the sides of my horse. Snapping the reins, I yelled, “Yah!”
The horse hurtled forward at a speed that startled the soldiers up ahead. They tried to stop me but couldn’t without being trampled. I ran past Caelan and placed myself between him and Ronan, who was using his sword to hold himself up. A gash on his arm bled profusely, but it was nothing compared to the wound in his abdomen. Even in the darkness, I could see Ronan was covered in blood.
The ground was littered with dead or injured soldiers from both sides, but the Crimson Clan members were outnumbered by the Valorian army ten-to-one. Only a handful were still standing with Ronan. Silas was by his side, his sword raised and at the ready.
“What in the bloody hell areyoudoing here?” Ronan yelled. He tried to step forward but could barely move.
“That’s whatIshould be asking!” I peered over my shoulder at him before turning my attention to Caelan. “Prince Marcellus is at the Rose Petal, Your Highness. Why areyouleading the Valorian army?”
Caelan was a fearsome sight atop his horse, gripping a bow with a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. He laughed and sized me up and down. “I thought you two weren’t close?” he yelled out to me.
“We’re not!” I called back. “And you didn’t answer my question!”
Caelan glanced back at the waiting army and then back at me. “And why should I answer you? You’re nothing but the town healer. Who are you to question me?”
I paused, unsure how to answer. To him I was a nobody, and he had every right to think so. Even so, I never imagined Caelan to behave so … high and mighty to those beneath his station.
I nodded. “I know I’m a nobody in your eyes, but you can’t just march your army into the Central Plains. This is neutral territory. No nation is allowed to start a war here.”
Caelan snorted. “Is that so? You would lay down the law … forthem?”
I shook my head. “I’m not doing it for them; this is for the innocent people of the Central Plains. You have no right—”
“I haveeveryright!” he seethed. The vein on his forehead pulsed an angry rhythm. “They are holding Princess Lyanna hostage—”
“I told you they’re not!” I shouted back in frustration.
Caelan scoffed. “We have proof. We sent scouts to the Grasslands. We know she’s there!”
