Page 141 of Keeper of the Word

Briefly, she met Hux’s gaze.

This is the end.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Crack.

The sound of the doors fracturing a final time resounded through the Crown Hall.

They shattered open.

A pause flooded across the fray before a large man stepped into the hall.

He had a tight bandage around his thigh. His grip on his sword was poised to damage anyone who came into its contact. His eyes scrutinized the entire hall in such a manner as to cause three men near her to visibly shudder.

Then he roared a battle cry so fierce that one man dropped his sword.

The Wolf had arrived.

Chapter

Fifty-Three

TOLVAR

The Wolf assessed the scene in the flash of time it took him to inhale, grip his hilt, and exhale.

’Twas grim.

But Tolvar was ready for grim.

Leading dozens of Castle Sidra knights, who charged into the Crown Hall, Tolvar made short work of the three opponents who attacked him together before he’d stepped five paces into the hall.

King Rian lay motionless on the floor, soaked in blood. The queen knelt over him, pressing her gown to his backside. Near them, Prince Dashiell struggled to break through the barrier of guards that stood between him, a Warin, Hux and the chancellor.

Griffith held a bloody dagger loosely in his hands. The man obviously had no idea what to do with the weapon but had clearly done something. He, no doubt, was whom Turas had meant.

A watchdog turning on his master.

Tolvar barreled toward them, slashing his sword across numerous men as he did so. Gus covered his back and shouted a few warnings here and there. His wound nagged at him, but it would not slow him.

The line of guards protecting Griffith and two others sidledtoward the side door, shielding the three as they did so. Four more guards gave reinforcement. Hux managed to down one of them as they inched their way off the dais. Tolvar cut across, stepping over bodies to join them.

“Welcome! How delightful of you to finally return,” Hux said, ramming the butt of his hilt into a guard who attacked from the side.

“Aye.” Tolvar parried against his opponent as he sidestepped a second one. He then lunged and thrust his sword into the first one. With not as much quickness as he was accustomed to, thanks to his thigh, Tolvar pivoted and beat his sword against the second. Within moments, though, Tolvar had downed the man. He took a second to gauge how they fared.

Giffith and the others fled through the side door.

“Enough of this!” Tolvar shouted, plowing his way through the guards and giving chase. Hux close behind, they were on them by the time they’d rounded the second corner.

The first, a bald man with glasses, tripped, and Tolvar grabbed him by his head, lifted him, and broke his neck. He slid to the floor. Hux smashed a nearby vase against the second. He slunk to the floor unconscious.

“We may wish to question them, Lord Wolf. Leave them alive, mayhap?”

Tolvar grunted, and they dashed after Griffith, who fumbled with a ring of keys at a door at the far end of the corridor.

“Enough, Griffith,” Tolvar said, decelerating his approach. “’Tis over.”

Griffith continued to shuffle the keys in his hands. The man’s voice shook. “’Tis only beginning, Lord Tolvar.”