Page 130 of The Rebel and the Rose
Lark and Andreas were living proof that the Second Age of Saints was already a far cry from the first. Gone were the likes of tender-hearted Saint Alisa, dauntless Saint Maurius and valiant Saint Cadel. Provost Ambrose was right. In this new world, power did not guarantee goodness.
If Sera was to be the conduit for a new Age of Saints, then she owed it to Oriel to be careful with her choices.
‘I have a plan.’ Val’s announcement knocked Sera from her thoughts. ‘Sorry to scoop you, Theo. I know how you like to be the problem-solver.’
That earned her a dimpled smile, the lingering tension fading as they gathered close.
Val spoke fast and low. ‘We’ll leave Marvale and go north to Halbracht. With any luck, Othilde will have finished the new batch of Lightfire. We’ll take a wagon, and take a full shipment back to the king, telling him what we’ve learned about his nephew’s power. Instead of a dead body, we’ll offer him shields made of Lightfire. The ultimate protection against the prince’s thrall. If he agrees to release Bibi, we’ll outfit his entire army with them before Andreas turns up at his door and enthrals him too.’
It was a solid plan. A clever workaround, and the best hope they had now of saving their friend. Even if it did mean siding with the king.
‘Screw the king,’ said Val. ‘Once we get Bibi back, I don’t care what happens to him. If you ask me, both sides are bad. We just need to get out of this mess alive.’
‘At least under the Rayeres, we know what we’re getting,’ reasoned Theo. ‘Andreas will be worse than his uncle ever was. A power-grasping tyrant who would enslave his own people to keep himself in control. Just look at Marvale. Imagine an entire kingdom like this, without free will, without freethought. For all we know, he’s planning on serving Valterre up to the Mondragons on a platter. We could soon fall under the banner of Urnica and their bloodthirsty king.’
‘Unless Andreas enslaves him too,’ muttered Sera, thinking of Talisa, and how callously he had discarded her broken body. Who knew where the true scope of his vision would lead the kingdom, or how the far-reaching strands of his power might affect the continent at large?
They were moving now, a sense of urgency taking hold as they began to stuff their satchels.
Outside, the sun was already sinking, the sky blushing to a deep rippling pink. Soon, the streetlamps would flicker to life and night would be upon them. Andreas would be waiting, watching. Hell, he could be watching them right now. Drawing the drapes, Theo said, ‘I’ll speak to the innkeeper. Get a carriage arranged as fast as I can. We’ll sneak out the back.’
As the sun set on the red mills of Marvale, the darkening sky hummed with music and laughter tripped through the streets. The familiar sounds raked their nails down Sera’s spine. Just another one of the silver-tongued prince’s lies. Another reminder to get the hell out of town.
Crouched between two burlap sacks of letters on the floorof the small postal coach Theo had managed to procure, Sera locked eyes with her friends. Fear hung like a cloud between them, no one daring to speak as they pulled out onto the main street and headed south towards the arch that marked the entrance to Marvale.
The postmaster rode out in front, his old workhorse clip-clopping far too slowly for Sera’s liking. They had agreed he would drop them at the next town over, and from there, they would continue their journey north to Halbracht.
As they turned downhill at the end of the street, gathering speed, Val reached for her hand, squeezing it tight. Sera squeezed back.
Almost there.
Almost free.
Through a gap in the curtains, she spied the stone arch up ahead. The bodies of nightguards were still strung up like garlands, the scent of their rotting flesh stinging tears in her eyes.
Theo turned his face into her collar to silence his gag.
Eyes streaming, Sera dropped her head, counting the seconds until they were out.
Three more minutes until Marvale was behind them.
Two more minutes.
One minute.
Justone moreminute.
The carriage slowed as it passed under the arch.
Then stopped.
Voices sounded near the front of the coach.
‘Guards,’ hissed Theo, his eyes wide with panic.
Mercenaries.
Andreas must have stationed them at the gates.
