Page 21 of Winds of Destiny

Cam

The Gate is fifty feet tall, made from solid slabs of dark-gray stone that some brilliant engineer rigged to open and shut and flanked by two guard towers that are barely distinguishable from the mountainside they meld into. I can’t tear my eyes off it, even though the pale gleam of the outermost wall of Huridell shines far away, high on the mountain. I’m choosing to ignore that for now.

The Gate, though.

It’s right here.

Passing through is by far the easiest way up to Huridell. A good climber could make it over the steep, rocky ridge that flanks the Gate as far as the eye can travel, or a very patient person could travel the many miles north one would have to go find another break in the mountain. For everyone else, it’s the Gate or nothing.

The range in front of us is as sharp as a cliff face, very different from the expansive mountains behind it. Perhaps Carnuatu deliberately helped shape things this way to give his people security. Perhaps it’s a geological quirk left over from when this was an active volcano, pouring new ground out onto old. Whatever carved this land, the Dellians took advantage of it.

The Gate is as terrifying as it is imposing, at least to me, and every step we take toward it now chips away another piece of my confidence.

I’m not ready for this. I’m not.

It’s awful, it’s terrible, it’s childish of me—but I’m just not . I’m not ready to let go of Zephyth, let go of my people and my god, let go of Turo. After last night, after seeing how he loves me and feeling the pleasure he gave me, how can I? How can I let him go?

How can I let Kai go, the lover I never expected to have, as gentle or rough as my moods demand? He’s so good to me—he’s possibly the only man I could ever see myself being truly happy with if I can’t have Turo—and now I’m about to be handed over to another. Will the prince feel the same through the pearl? I can name how Kai feels to me now after sensing him for weeks on end—he’s like a fire, warm and glowing with steady heat. When he looks at me, the heat flares just a little, letting me know he wants me. He likes me.

What if Prince Eleas doesn’t like me? What if he’s disappointed in me? What if he expects me to suffer his every whim? I know his men love him, but they’re not the ones expected to marry him.

“Camrael?” Kai’s touch on the back of my hand startles me into dropping the pearl pendant I’ve been gripping like a lifeline. I wince as I shake out my hand—the ridges of the silver setting have dug deep into my palm. “It’s going to be all right,” he promises me, not bothering to ask how I am. Of course, he doesn’t need to ask. My true feelings must be reflected crystal clear on my face, a trait I’ve often been told is unbefitting of a prince.

“Tell me he won’t take you away from me,” I whisper, ashamed to ask but needing it anyway.

“Who?”

Who else? “Prince Eleas! Please, just tell me he won’t…that he won’t…”

Kai looks surprised, like he wonders why I’m worried at all. Asshole. “The prince won’t do anything to make you feel unsafe or unhappy,” he says, unflinching from my caustic gaze. “I swear it.”

I don’t know where he gets this certainty from; no man can be so sure of another, can they? Hearts and minds are fickle things. Look at me—I’d promised myself I was going to get over Turo no matter what, and here I am more in love with him than ever.

Maybe I can persuade Turo to at least come to the city with us—in the name of intelligence gathering. If he’s to do Doric’s work, he’ll need to be up-to-date, and I know he’ll feel better if he sees me safely settled. And if perhaps he stays a little bit longer, and promises to return as soon as he can, then maybe I can weather this without losing my mind to worry and my heart to sorrow.

We’re five hundred feet from the Gate now. Turo, who’s been up in front on Lulu, inspecting the terrain, turns and rides back over to us. I’m expecting him to look serious—he generally does—but not to look…nervous?

“I don’t think the towers are manned,” he says.

Kai frowns, but Rusen speaks before he can reply. “Impossible. There’s a permanent detachment of soldiers here at all times. Even if one of the towers is temporarily empty, the other is manned, and there’s always someone within shouting distance.”

“Not right now there isn’t.”

“I didn’t hear you shouting,” Rusen says, but quiets when Kai holds up his hand.

“Look at the window on the right tower.” His voice is grim.

“It’s open. As it should be.”

“But look at the position of the shutters.”

Every Dellian goes still. I’m not sure what the significance is and look at Turo. He leans toward me. “During the day, they’re supposed to be latched open,” he says quietly. “The ones on the left tower are, but one of the ones on the right tower is out of position.”

“Perhaps someone forgot to latch it,” I say. What’s the alternative, after all?

Kai motions to Ferow, the fastest of his men. “Check the Gate.” He takes off at a run, and I look in confusion at Kai.

“Surely it will be locked. Won’t it?” And how could one man even hope to move such massive blocks of rock if it wasn’t locked?

“The Gate was designed to open with just one push from a man’s hand,” Kai says. “But the mechanism that controls it is complex and takes weeks of training to learn to operate. If it doesn’t open for him, then our people didn’t let anyone inside. If they didn’t let anyone new in, then they were killed by someone already inside our border.”

Wait, no. “ Killed ?” That seems like quite the jump to me. “You can’t be serious. Who inside your own borders would want to kill any of you?”

If anything, Kai’s eyes go even flintier. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as Ferow makes it to the Gate. He pushes against it, and—

Nothing happens.

Oh, shit.

He’s already running back our way when the first javelin flies toward him out of the tall grass to the side of the Gate. It takes Ferow in the back of his upper thigh, and he shouts in pain as he falls to the ground.

Oh god, oh god, Ophiucas, no—

Kai is already moving. “Cut the rams loose!” he shouts. “Get them into a defensive position! Turn the wagon, keep Camrael behind it. I want protection on both sides.”

People jump to action at his command faster than I can follow. Someone lifts me from my seat, and, a second later, they’ve tipped the wagon over, spilling the rest of our supplies and all my belongings and dowry out onto the ground. Morfan, his jaw clenched tight and eyes bright with unshed tears, drags Lulu around to my side. “Stay down,” he says, then steps out to the right side of the wagon, heavy spear at the ready.

I don’t know what to say. I’m too afraid to gather breath for any sort of speech, honestly. I can’t imagine having the discipline to remain calm and follow orders if I lost Kai or Turo.

I kneel behind the makeshift cover. How can this be happening? Now, when we’re so close to the end? Who’s behind this?

There’s a gap in the wood where the axle fits to the bottom of the wagon. I stare through it and see…

A man emerging from the grass. He’s wearing a bronze corselet, its scales gleaming in the midday light. His helmet is broad and heavy in the front. He’s got a javelin in one hand and a long, curving sword in the other.

A Kamoran warrior, without his chariot this time. He runs out to where Ferow is doggedly crawling toward us, brings his sword down in a chopping motion, and—

I can’t see the death stroke, but I hear Morfan’s sound of pain. He looks like he’s barely restraining himself from running out there.

“I count twenty,” Rusen says.

“Twenty-three,” Turo corrects. “Look to the far right, there’s a cluster there. They’re going to try and flank.”

“Shields!” Kai orders a second later, and I see those lightweight javelins begin to fall around us. One cuts so close that it parts Lulu’s tail feathers, making her startle. I grab her harness to hold her head steady and pull her in closer to the protection of the wagon.

“They’ll use them as cover for a run on us, the bastards,” Kai goes on. “Turo, can you—”

“Yes.” One word, and then as I watch Turo’s arrows begin to do their work. The bronze armor is good, but it’s flexible, and Turo has experience hunting these people now. I watch three go down before they get within a hundred feet of us—that’s all I can see from my angle.

“I’m out,” he says, a few seconds later.

“But they’ve only got seventeen fighters now.”

Seventeen against the six of us doesn’t seem like wonderful odds to me. What else can we do but fight, though?

What do they even want from us?

“Shields!”

Another rain of javelins, and this time I hear one of the rams cry out. They wear almost as much armor as their owners do. The javelins must be tipped with something that can cut through bronze.

“Got to run them now if you want to get any use out of ’em,” Rusen warns Kai.

Run them? I look through the hole in the wagon again. My hands clench around the hilt of my sword as I see the line of attackers running toward us. Every soldier is armed, their blades at the ready as they charge. My grip tightens around Lulu’s harness. She’s quivering, whether from an urge to fight or an urge to flee, I don’t know.

I hear a clunk over the sound of my own harsh breathing, then a chorus of bellows, and then—

The rams are running toward the incoming fighters. There are only four of them left, but they’re fast, fierce, and armored. The one on the far left smacks straight into a man, butting him hard in the gut and knocking him over, then stamping heavy hooves onto his head. The cries of outrage and pain and the insanity of the situation are almost enough to distract me from the fact that the first of the attackers has nearly reached us.

Until Morfan screams a battle cry and attacks.

“Don’t break— damn it! ” Kai cuts off whatever he was going to say as the sound of metal on metal fills the air.

For a few seconds, the sounds of fighting are all I hear before all of a sudden Rusen staggers into sight half a dozen yards away. He’s got two javelins in him, one in his leg, one in his shoulder, but he’s still wielding his sword.

A Kamoran runs in to fight, dodging Rusen’s first strike and slashing him across his wounded leg. Rusen shouts and goes down to the ground, barely able to raise his sword to block the next blow.

Deran is there a second later, stabbing his attacker in the back. He kicks the man off his sword, then turns to Rusen. “Get up, you sorry son of a—”

“Go protect the prince, idiot,” Rusen replies, looking straight at me.

Deran shouts a curse, then runs to me. “Get ready to mount up on that overgrown chicken of yours, you—”

A massive sword swings into view, slicing him straight through the neck. He should have seen it coming. He should have been prepared for it, been prepared to fight, but he wasn’t.

He wasn’t, because he was paying attention to me.

I’m running before I even think to stop myself, sword drawn. A second before Deran’s head hits the ground, my sword is cleaving his attacker’s arm off at the shoulder.

“ Cam! ”

Turo. He’s probably furious at me. Good .

Let him be furious. He fights dirty when he’s angry.

The man I’ve disarmed—literally and figuratively—is staring at what he’s lost, jaw dropped, lips dumb. He raises his eyes to me just in time for me to drive my sword through his chest. The scale mail resists my blade, but I manage to force it through. It’s all I can see—him on my blade, so heavy—but it doesn’t feel like I can let him fall.

If I let him fall, that means…

I’m a killer.

Oh gods , no . I’ve never wanted this. Never. My arms are shaking, I know I’m going into shock, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. If I let him fall…if I—

Something hits me hard on the side, knocking me to the ground. The moment breaks—my mind forcibly refocuses on the fact that I’m in the middle of a fucking battle for my life. I lift my newly freed blade to strike down against the person who knocked me over, but I halt when I see that it’s Rusen.

He’s bleeding from his mouth, and the trail of blood behind him—he must have crawled to me. “Get behind th’ fuckin’ wagon,” he says, then chokes on a gout of blood that pours from his mouth. He’s trying to speak but there’s too much blood, and I…

I leave him. I stagger to my feet and leave him, just like Deran did, leaving him to die choking on his own blood. My vision is blurry—I blink my eyes clear, then raise my head to look around the edge of the wagon. I have to know what’s happening to Turo and Kai. I have to know.

The lumpy bodies of the slaughtered rams lie in the distance, as well as some Kamoran attackers. Morfan is dead as well, his own massive spear driven through his back—I don’t know if it was used to kill him or if someone did it after the fact. There are three men dead beside him, so at least he made the cost of his life very dear. As for Turo and Kai, a little way in front of the wagon… Oh, praise Ophiucas . They’re alive.

And Kai looks like he’s on fire.

It’s like the trick he did during the aurochs stampede, a bright spark running along the blade that turns into a flaming torch with every strike, sending a wave of fire out along with it. It dies within a few yards, leaving a ring of smoke behind, but it’s got the four men surrounding him spooked. They aren’t close enough to engage en masse, so Kai has to focus on one at a time, leaving his back open.

I wince as a blow from one of their swords slides across his armor but doesn’t penetrate. He turns, parries the next attempt, and sends out a wave of fire that makes his attacker rip his helmet off—the bronze must have overheated. Kai moves in for the kill, but another of the fighters attacks then, stealing his focus. He won’t be able to keep this up for long.

Turo is also surrounded. He has no fire to help him, but he doesn’t need it. I can barely track his movements, he’s so fast—he darts in and out like a wave wending its way around rocks, and when he retreats, it’s to a blood-red tide. Every person around him is wounded, and that’s only counting the ones who are standing. There are two on the ground, unmoving.

There’s one more Kamoran out there. He stands back from the others, and he manages to look calm and relaxed despite the desperate fight happening before his very eyes. I can tell the moment he sees me—his shoulders straighten and his helm lifts. He raises his arm…

And ten more of his people rise up out of the grass.

No.

They’re running like they’re planning to flank Turo and Kai, who are barely able to handle the men they’re already defending themselves against. They’re coming for me because I foolishly confirmed my presence. I’ve ruined this.

I’ve ruined everything.

“ Take Lulu and go! ” Turo shouts as he dodges one man’s slash, then stabs him in the gut. One more down, but there are still too many left.

I know that Kai would agree with Turo if he had the breath for it. I know it’s what I should do. I’m not a good enough fighter to tip the scales in our favor, and my power isn’t strong enough to blow all these men away. They want me to leave them.

Leave them to die.

“ Go! ” Turo shouts again, exasperation and fear warring in his voice. He’s half turned toward me, looking to ensure I’m being obedient—which is why he doesn’t see the warrior behind him raise his curving blade, then bring it down hard against his back. The scrape of it against the whelver shell is loud, but Turo’s guttural groan is even louder to me. He sinks to one knee, his free hand going back to clutch at his hip, and—

Before I know it, I’m astride Lulu, only I’m not running away. I can’t, it’s impossible. Instead, I’m charging toward the knot of attackers closing in on Turo, screaming, my sword in the air. Lulu beats her wings, lifts us briefly off the ground, and then… It’s a massacre.

She slashes and kicks her way through the offenders, dancing a ring around Turo but not stepping on him once. My sword ends up being used to defend her from the near-misses she takes, and I’m not perfect. Soon half her white feathers are pink, but everyone attacking Turo is dead. He’s still on his knees, staring up at me in horror and awe. I bend down, reach for his hand—I’m going to get him, then we’re going to save Kai and flee this awful place together, and—

Suddenly Lulu is moving, jolting forward so quickly I nearly fall off. Lulu is high on bloodlust and charging toward the next closest group of attackers—where King Embros is. I should pull her back, but if she can do it, if we can kill him now, then his men will scatter. I might yet be able to save not only us but countless other lives that he would take in the wars he’s so desperate to wage.

I summon my power, this time to give Lulu a boost as she leaps toward the king. We fly twenty feet high, and the long, sharp blades growing from the backs of her legs are bared, ready to scythe his life out. She falls, screeching triumphantly.

Embros raises his hands, and a surge of green light shoots toward her. It creates a ripple in her feathers a second before we hit the ground.

She collapses in a heap, stone dead. I tumble off her, losing my grip on my sword and hitting my head hard enough to see stars. My pearl necklace tumbles to the ground, ripped from my neck during the fall.

Turo and Kai scream my name.

I want to go to them, but everything hurts. Before I can gather myself to move, I’m hoisted upright and pulled into a regrettably familiar pair of arms.

“Prince Camrael.” Embros sounds pleased as he drags me in close. “You’re even more useful than I imagined you would be.” He forces my hands behind me and wraps them up with a leather strap faster than I can react, then does the same with my mouth. I’m bound, gagged, and very thoroughly captured.

Fuck me.

All I can do is hope that the Kamorans leave now that they seem to have gotten what they wanted. Please, let Turo and Kai live… But we’re not moving yet.

King Embros opens his mouth to speak, and I close my eyes to pray.