Chapters (51)
- Dedication
- Contents
- PREVIOUSLY …
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- PART III
- 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
- PART IV
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- About the Author
- ALSO BY DAVID WRAGG
- About the Publisher
She turned to face the others, leaving Rennic standing. ‘Once we cross, we make for the coast, full-speed.’ Chel thought he caught a slight waver in her voice at the last. ‘Ruumi’s reavers may already have landed, all we need do is stay ahead of the news. Denirnas, Norts, victory.’
‘It may not—’ Rennic began.
‘Whisp and I have got the passes sorted,’ she ploughed over him, ‘and we’ll cross tonight. There are far too many unfriendly faces around here for my liking, too many people with the sniff of a contract about them. So, we’ll cross in darkness, disguised as merchants.’ She gestured to a wagon across the yard. ‘That’s us there, cloaks, hoods, and packs aboard. Gar, Fossy, and Whisp will be the guards, Lem and I the drivers.’
Chel put up a tired hand. ‘What about the rest of us? Me, Kosh, and the prince?’
‘In the back. You’re our cargo. Out of sight, under canvas.’
He considered being offended, but the thought of lying down in the back of a wagon for a while was an appealing one.
‘Huh,’ came a voice from behind them. Chel turned to see Tarfel stalking off across the yard, back in the direction of his stable of rotten wood.
All eyes were on Chel. ‘Fuck’s wrong with princeling?’ Rennic said.
‘Cares not to be cargo?’ Lemon enquired.
‘We, er … He missed his birthday.’
Rennic’s glare carried more heat than the midday sun. ‘The fuck you say?’
‘… And you’ve all been mean to him! He is a prince, remember? He’s supposed to be in command. He’s the reason we’re doing all this.’
Rennic seemed to grow before Chel’s eyes, swelling with charged outrage, and he steeled himself for the onslaught.
‘See if you can talk him round, cub,’ Loveless murmured before Rennic could burst. ‘Shepherd knows there’s worse to come than this.’ She circled a hand. ‘Let’s get packed for the road, fellow merchants.’
NINETEEN
‘Feels a bit sad,’ Chel said from under his canvas, as they peered up at the glowing glory of the Bridge House from their dismal perch in the back of the wagon. They were through the giant gatehouse now and rolling up the gentle slope of the first bridge, the churn of white water against its piers quickly drowning the calls and cries from the bank as they climbed. The bridge was busy, people travelling in both directions, some mounted or with carts or wagons, others on foot in groups or alone. Chel thought he could tell the through-traffic like them from patrons of the House itself; they seemed to walk with their gaze downcast, never making eye-contact with anyone. He knew how they felt. ‘Getting so close to so grand a place, then not going in.’