He waited until the horses thundered through the open gate. The city’s hush exploded into a rush of shouts and motion as Cededa plunged headlong into the mass of horseflesh and men. Equine screams and agonized shouts followed his attack as his glaive sliced the air, the flashing blade cutting a bloody swathe through men and animals.

Spurred on by rage and the guardian compulsion triggered by the Waters, Cededa leapt into the air. He landed nimbly on a horse’s back long enough to swing his glaive in a lethal arc, decapitating two men in a single swipe. Blood sprayed the air and him. A battle cry sounded behind him. He jumped to the ground, meeting the mounted soldier who charged him, sword raised high. The horse bore down on him in full charge. Cededa tipped the glaive, swinging it like a club so the weighted metal end slammed into the animal’s forelegs. It squealed, crashing to its belly and skidding across the cobblestones. It rolled, crushing its rider beneath it.

The melee intensified. Swarmed by men and horses, Cededa plowed through the ranks, killing and maiming in a sea of carnage. He’d broken his glaive but didn’t pause. The clang of metal striking metal echoed through the courtyard as he hacked and cut with axe and short sword.

He leapt over bodies, slashing his way to the back ranks milling around him in a confused chaos. Horses reared, their hooves pawing the air above his head. He shoved a soldier into the path of one of the crazed animals and heard a scream cut short by a dull thud. There were at least a score of men left, and he had every intention of killing every last one of them. He shrieked a Tineroth battle cry and slammed into their ranks with renewed fervor.

Battle frenzy roared through him, a blood heat undiminished by time. He was a warrior king bred of countless generations of warrior kings. This was his city, and he meant to defend her and the woman he claimed as his.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Cededa’s warning echoed in Imogen’s ears.

Intruders? Oh gods, she prayed. Please let him be safe. The horror of his immolation would forever be emblazoned on her memory. No one, no matter their actions, should have to suffer that twice. She dressed, warning off the mist when it tried to help her. “I think not,” she snapped. “I’m going fast enough.”

She sensed its impatience, its concern. The spirit of Cededa’s wife took form and motioned her to follow. They sped through the palace, navigating dizzying twists and turns that left Imogen disoriented and hopelessly lost. She finally emerged through a service door and into an enclosed bailey. The mist no longer gently roiled as before but shot across the bailey and into the street with Imogen sprinting to keep up.