Page 25 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

Cahra arrived with the Wildswoman – the Seer – Wyldaern at her back, rejoining Terryl, Raiden and their people as the caravan wound towards Luminaux. Cahra slowed the horse, pulling alongside Raiden next to Terryl’s window.

‘Any trouble?’

At the sound of Cahra’s voice, Terryl peered out. ‘Thank the Oracles,’ he breathed. Seeing his relief, warmth spread through her and she smiled.

‘All’s quiet,’ Raiden answered from upon another horse, scouring their surroundings.

She hated to bear him bad news. ‘Raiden.’ Cahra lifted her arm to hand him the pins Wyldaern had found on the dead patrolmen.

He took them, raising stony eyes to meet hers. ‘Where did you get these?’ That tone. It was alarm, pure and simple.

‘We found them on the soldiers as we left. Some with one pin, some with the other.’ She watched as the dread on his face solidified.

Raiden’s eyes flickered to Terryl. The Captain raised his arm, two riders with him in an instant as he watched Wyldaern, telling Cahra, ‘We ride hard. Cahra, get in the carriage.’ Then he ordered, ‘Squad two, escort our guest to the goods wagon.’ His people made to move.

‘Wait, Wyldaern needs Merali’s aid! And you don’t give me orders,’ Cahra retorted. ‘I’m not one of your guards.’

Raiden turned on Cahra, eyes blazing. ‘Do you have any idea of the danger we face? Are you so sure she’s not involved?’ Raiden jerked a thumb at Wyldaern.

Cahra just murmured over her shoulder to Wyldaern, ‘Still “tell none”?’

The Seer remained silent.

‘To the kingdom,’ Raiden commanded his people. Then to Cahra, the Captain said, ‘This is the least safe we’ve been since we left Kolyath. I can’t protect my lord, or you, if our enemies have united and we have no knowledge of their plans. We’re going,’ he growled.

Cahra was about to cut in that she didn’t need protection, when Wyldaern beat her to it, sliding from the horse.

‘Protect or imprison her?’ the Seer interjected, fervour in her voice. ‘What, exactly, are your plans for Cahra once you reach Luminaux? Atriposte would have clapped her in chains, then tortured and slaughtered her with relish. Will your King Royce be so different?’

Cahra recognised the pain blazing in Wyldaern’s peridot eyes, remembering Terryl’s words about the ancient Oracles. What hardships had Wyldaern endured as a Seer, blamed by the entire realm for Hael’stromia’s downfall?

‘Yes.’ Terryl’s voice rang out like a bell from a high tower. He opened his coach door and everyone stopped as he stepped from it. ‘It is not Luminaux’s King, but we, as a people, who are different.’

Raiden, incredulous, flashed his iron eyes between the lot of them.

‘For the love of…’ He leapt from his horse and unsheathed his broadsword, his people doing the same as they formed a defensive ring around Terryl – Piet hefting his great-hammer over a pale shoulder, Siarl springing from behind them, daggers out, Queran nocking arrows from the coach’s roof, hood shrouding his red mane – all twenty-plus eyes on some invisible perimeter.

Cahra dismounted, following suit. ‘Te—’

‘Prince Thierre,’ Wyldaern stated, standing tall as every weapon in the vicinity now trained on Cahra and the Seer.

Cahra raised her hands slowly, stepping between Wyldaern, and Raiden and Terryl. ‘Who is Prince Thierre?’

‘King Royce of Luminaux’s son, and the heir apparent, their Crown Prince,’ Wyldaern replied, not taking her eyes off Terryl.

‘That is one Hael of an accusation,’ Raiden spat. But he had positioned himself between Cahra and Wyldaern, and his lord. Just as Cahra stood between Wyldaern and them.

She stared at Raiden, then at the noble she’d met weeks ago in Kolyath.

And remembered.

The woman at Terryl’s house. ‘It is done, H—’

Highness?

And in his private coach. ‘Did the Commander mention the name “Thierre” to Lumsden?’

Prince Thierre.

And Terryl, talking to Raiden. ‘I cannot keep letting you put my life above all others… I cannot be responsible for any more d—’

Cahra’s mouth went dry. Any more deaths?

Thinking about it, she’d only heard Raiden call him ‘Terryl’ once.

In fact, no one touched him. Because they revered him, like a god.

Because he was royalty .

Cahra wavered, knees weak, and it was Wyldaern’s turn to lend an arm to steady her.

‘Cahra,’ Thierre said – Prince Thierre, such sadness in his blue goldstone eyes.

Not once, not once, had she asked herself what could be wrong with him, or why he seemed so perfect. Now she knew. Because he was a Prince of the realm!

Cahra closed her eyes, feeling the prick of tears she was too hurt and angry to shed. These people – his people, from a rival kingdom – were just using her and Wyldaern to further their agenda—

No . She shook her head. They had been kind, had rescued her and saved Wyldaern. But was it selfless? It had to be. They didn’t know Wyldaern was a Seer.

She breathed in the sting of betrayal, each fragment of it cutting her like shards of a shattered mirror. She pushed her feelings down, down, crushing them, burying them under the low-born heels of her blacksmith’s boots.

And it worked, for a moment. But she could feel it.

The hurt and fury, no matter how she tried to ram it into the ground.

Cahra didn’t trust anyone. She’d spent the last decade avoiding crossing paths with people: other apprentices, potential friends, all because she didn’t know who she could trust after her dungeon escape.

It’d taken years for her to open up to Lumsden after everything she’d been through.

And this lord – this Prince – shows up, and weeks later, her home, her safety, all hope is gone —

Raiden cautioned, ‘We need to get off this road.’

‘Cahra,’ Thierre pleaded with her.

She couldn’t even look at him. ‘Wyldaern, please show them.’

‘Can you be so sure that you can trust these people, after what you just witnessed?’

‘They came to your aid without knowledge of you,’ Cahra said quietly.

Raiden’s eyebrows furrowed as Cahra approached. ‘Hold fire,’ he told his fighters.

Cahra’s eyes were daggers as she said, ‘Mull all you like, Raiden, but you’ll want to hear what Wyldaern has to say.’ She turned to beckon to Wyldaern, but the young woman was already shadowing her as if more worried about Cahra’s safety than her own.

‘I will reveal my faith,’ Wyldaern vowed under her breath to Cahra, ‘but tell none about our earlier conversation . Not until your trust is earned.’

Trust. Cahra laughed mirthlessly. She reached Raiden, and they faced each other. He regarded her, lowering his sword. His guards withdrew their weapons.

She refused to look at Ter—

Thierre, Thierre, Thierre. The Crown Prince of Luminaux.

Thierre watched, forlorn, as Cahra opened the coach door for Wyldaern, who took her seat opposite his. In Cahra’s place.

Raiden halted Cahra before she climbed in. ‘If that woman in any way threatens him, I’ll have Queran put an arrow in her.’

‘You mean, “His Royal Highness”?’ she shot back, sneering as she jerked from him. ‘Save your threats. In a minute’s time, you’re going to feel like complete idiots. Like I do,’ she seethed. She climbed in, folding her arms and facing Raiden’s vacant seat.

‘Make haste,’ she heard him command, entering with Thierre. They all sat staring at one another, Raiden demanding, ‘Care to tell us why we’re here, then?’

Cahra flicked a glance to Wyldaern and nodded. Cahra would ‘tell none’, although she wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, given she and the Seer had hardly spoken. The only thing of note was that eerie white light.

Slowly, Wyldaern pulled the Sigil of the Seers from her robe.

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then Raiden and Thierre both sunk back into their seats, staring. At one another, then at Wyldaern and Cahra.

Cahra shot them a spiteful glare.

Raiden had the sense to look remorseful. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ Cahra erupted. ‘You barely let me talk!’

‘Kolyath is in league with Ozumbre! If those soldiers had learned of the Prince…’ Raiden’s face went pale.

Cahra threw up her hands, turning on Thierre. ‘Seers, why in Hael are you here then? If it’s so damn dangerous, then why?’

‘Someone has to,’ Thierre stated. ‘Certainly, it could be one of my father’s spymen, or any manner of soldier.

But as I told you, I connect with people.

I am learned in other royal courts, history, geography, culture, warfare.

And I am not like my family. I cannot live in a kingdom and not know anything of other lands in turmoil. ’

‘Oh, so you wanted an adventure ,’ Cahra retorted. ‘Royal life a royal bore, was it?’ Poor form, directed at a lord, she knew, worse still at a Prince of the realm’s tri-kingdoms. Raiden looked ready to throttle her. She didn’t care.

‘It matters not why you are here,’ Wyldaern said. ‘Cahra’s safety is what matters.’

‘As does yours,’ Raiden told the Seer.

‘Oh? A minute ago, you were ready to shoot her,’ Cahra snapped.

‘The sister kingdoms believe the Oracles to be a people now extinct,’ Thierre said, apologetic then curious as he watched Wyldaern. ‘Was it a vision that led you here to us? How you knew of my true name?’

‘Yes,’ Wyldaern replied, glancing at Cahra. ‘So I must ask the question. What are your intentions for Cahra and myself?’

‘As Cahra has been, you are now our honoured guest,’ Thierre said to Wyldaern. Cahra looked away. ‘And we, your humble hosts, and with hope, allies.’

‘That remains to be seen,’ the Seer answered. ‘What if I had not shown you the sigil? What would I have been to you, then?’

‘An unknown,’ Raiden replied, crossing his arms.

‘Enough.’ Thierre waved his hand with a fraction of the command he could employ. Cahra’s jaw tightened, as did her chest; the ribs encasing her heart. ‘Enough,’ he said, softer. ‘There is no need to be at odds, now that all is revealed.’ Wyldaern was silent. So was Cahra.

‘Fine,’ Cahra said finally. ‘So now what? Wyldaern must continue on her journey.’ She thought aloud. ‘Maybe I’ll join her.’