Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
“Kind of makes you wish we were out there instead of building an aqueduct, doesn’t it?”
Tristam didn’t trust himself to respond. It had been one thing to give up the road patrols when he thought he’d be making a difference. But after all this time patrolling the forest, talking to villagers, and poring over attack reports, the Demon Riders were slipping even further away. It was maddening.
Shouts sounded from down the road, and a messenger rode up yelling for someone from the Palace. A crowd of people surrounded him. Tristam heard something about a barbarian attack.
“Make way.” He pushed through the crowd. The messenger’s eyes were wild with fear. “What’s this talk of an attack?”
“In the city, sir.”
“The city?” Was the man mistaken?
The messenger forced the words out between gulps of air. “The northern perimeter. I rode at the first sign of them.”
It sank in that this was really happening. Tristam grabbed the messenger by the shoulders. “Carry your news to the Palace and muster reinforcements. Make sure they’re in mail or plate armor, and outfitted with as many spears as possible. Those wielding swords should use the point rather than the edge. You can’t slice through a cat’s fur, but you can part it.” He turned his gaze to the other soldiers. “Return to the Palace, outfit yourselves, and go immediately to the northern perimeter. Does anyone have a spear?” Tristam asked. One of his shieldmen volunteered his weapon. Tristam grabbed it, dismissed the crew, and ran for his horse. He didn’t have armor, but there was no time. The barbarians were getting bold if they were attacking the city perimeter. He needed to get a better look at them.
He rode as quickly as he could down Forge’s crowded streets. The messenger hadn’t given him an exact location, but as Tristam reached the northern perimeter, he navigated simply by going against the current of people.
As he rode closer, shapes resolved themselves out of the chaos. Tristam slowed, steeling himself against the nauseatingly familiar scene. People ran into each other in their panic. The injured already lay scattered in dirt—the lucky ones pulled to the gutters, the unlucky ones trampled. Three demon cats prowled the road in front of him. Two dug through a market stall, pawing their way through chunks of ham and fish. The third, and largest, was crouched over an unconscious Red Shield.