Page 113 of A Tenuous Betrothal
Into her mind came the memory of the intruder who had shown up on the balcony. Marc’s words came back to her. “That’s when you call the guards.”
She swallowed and nodded to herself.
Then the man picked up his speed, heading toward the gardener’s shed near the greenhouse at the side of the palace.
She called into the stables. “Guards?”
No one answered. The stablehands were obviously busy doing their work and did not hear her.
The man again left something near the shed and then moved on, around the corner of the palace.
Rhi picked up her pace and ran toward the palace. “Help! Someone! Listen!” As she approached the palace, she wondered if it would be too late. “Guards!” She tried again to get someone’s attention, but unlike the crowd of men who’d poured into her room when Marc had called them, no one came running now.
She slammed open the palace door. “Guards!”
A servant came around the corner. “Miss?” He bowed.
“I need some guards.”
“Are you in danger?”
“I... I don’t know. There’s something going on outside. A man is leaving buckets near the buildings, the stables...” She realized she sounded a bit ridiculous, but she didn’t know what else to say. Marc had made it sound so simple. Call the guards. They would come to help.
The servant nodded. “Yes, miss.” He hurried in the other direction, but she couldn’t be certain what he was going to do. She turned to run back outside, determined to follow the man, when a huge explosion shook the air and the stables burst into flames.
She raced toward them. “Firestorm!”
Men at last came pouring out of the doors behind her.
They ran to the shed and retrieved other buckets. She could tell the men were going to start a line for water. “Buckets in all the buildings, near the doors. They’re the cause of the fire.” She had to get inside the stables, but its front door was full of flames, so she ran around to the back. Though everything inside was flammable—the feed, the wood, the hay, all of it—the fire had not yet reached the back of the stables.
She rushed to open the doors of every stall. “Go!” she shouted, hitting the horses on their rumps, waving her hands, and encouraging them.
Another huge explosion sounded from somewhere else nearby, and tears pricked her eyes. “No, no, no.”
She went from stall to stall as fast as she could. Firestorm was still up ahead, and the flames were spreading quickly. She brought her skirts up to her face. The smoke was getting thick.
Firestorm’s whinny sounded frantic, and she kicked up against the door of her stall.
“I’m coming!” Rhi rushed to her door, fumbling with the latch. Then strong hands behind her pulled it open, and Firestorm bumped her with her muzzle.
“Go, girl!”
But the horse stayed, nudging her toward the door.
Marc lifted her up onto Firestorm’s bare back. “Go!”
“What about you?”
“I’ll get the others.”
The flames were hot. The ceiling was on fire.
She shook her head, but Firestorm leaped forward and raced out of the building. She called back over her shoulder, “Marc, no!”
She pulled on the horse’s mane. “Whoa, girl,” she said, but her horse refused to stop. Wind whipped through Rhi’s hair, the grounds blurring around her. She looked over her shoulder. Two of the buildings the man had placed buckets in were on fire. Then a third explosion sounded, and Firestorm spooked further.
“No, girl. Stop!” She tugged at the horse’s mane and leaned forward. “There. Good girl.” She spoke soothing words while rubbing Firestorm’s side, until finally, the mare slowed. Rhi turned her to face the palace.
