Page 121 of Silver & Smoke
‘That’s why they’re here,’ Torj said.
‘We don’t have a crown, or a blacksmith to make one,’ she ventured. ‘Doesn’t it need to be made with some sort of precious metal?’
‘Leave the crown to me,’ Kipp told her. ‘But if you’re concerned about the people dying around us, you’re a healer, aren’t you?’
Wren could have slapped him. ‘Yes,’ she ground out.
‘Then I suggest you put your skills to use in the meantime, Your Queenliness.’
Wren let out a growl of frustration. ‘One of these days, Kris-topher...’ she said threateningly.
‘You’ll knight me and set me up with a beautiful maiden in my own estate? I wouldn’t say no to that, Elwren – you know me well.’
‘Want me to hit him?’ Torj muttered.
‘At some point in the near future, I’ll say yes.’
‘So it’s decided,’ Torj said to the others. ‘Wren will be crowned at sunset. Hopefully that’s enough time for everyone to retrieve what they need.’ He didn’t pose it as a question, and no one speculated.
‘What are you playing at?’ Wren asked, shaking her head. ‘Becoming a crowned queen doesn’t help us now. Crown or not, we fight with the numbers we have. No one is answering our call for aid now.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Torj said. ‘But when this war is over, when the dust has settled and you stand upon the ruins of this kingdomonce more, I want there to be no question of your place in the midrealms. I want there to be no doubt as to who you are.’
‘And who exactly am I, Bear Slayer?’ she demanded, planting her fists on the table and bracing herself against it.
‘A fucking queen, Embers,’ he growled. ‘You always have been.’
Around them, the group dispersed, no doubt sensing that it was best to leave her to deal with the Warsword alone. Only she didn’t want to argue. She didn’t want to plan the moment she’d been dreading since she’d declared herself heir to the kingdom.
‘I’m going to tend to the wounded,’ she told Torj, brushing past him towards where they’d tethered the horses so she could retrieve her medical kit.
‘Wren...’ He started after her.
She threw up a hand to stop him. ‘When you’re ready to tell me why you’re really pushing for this coronation, come find me. Until then, there’s work to be done.’
Wren left him there, staring after her as she made her way through the muddy streets to the medical tent that had been set up in her absence. Zavier and Dessa had beaten her there and were already making poultices and stitching injuries. When she spotted Cal lingering in the wings, Wren forced him into a seat.
‘You did exactly what I told you not to, didn’t you?’ she said sharply, peeling away the blood-soaked bandage from his shoulder.
‘Maybe,’ he said sheepishly.
‘I did such beautiful work with those sutures last time too,’ Zavier called wistfully from where he was cutting fresh linen into strips.
A smile tugged at Cal’s mouth. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
‘You’re not in the slightest,’ Zavier quipped back.
Exchanging a glance with Dessa, Wren cleared her throat and stepped away from Cal. ‘Zavier, could you take over for me? I’ve just realized I’ve left a tonic brewing that will spoil if it’s overdone.’
When she passed the Prince of Naarva, he glared at her and muttered, ‘Subtle as a fucking war hammer, Elwren.’
She simply smiled sweetly and moved over to Dessa, who was also grinning.
Wren lost herself in healer’s work. For hours she administered pain relief to wounded warriors, sewed up gashes and cauterized several deeper injuries. She tended to the prisoners as well. The members of the People’s Vanguard seemed shocked to see her and her medical kit down in the cellar with them. No one spoke, no one tried to attack her, they simply showed her those who were injured and did what they could to help.
Wren reminded their guards that they needed plenty of fresh water and sanitary conditions. The enemy might be a monster, but she and her allies were not.
‘I want to show you something,’ came Torj’s voice from behind her as she washed her hands in a pail of water.
