03 Vengeance by J W Elliot

Author:J W Elliot [Elliot, J W]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2018-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

Brion leaned low over Misty's neck, urging her on. That kind of commotion could only mean one thing—an attack. Maybe another band of Bracari had found them or Tristan and his army had not been two weeks away as they were told. It was not good either way, and, to make it worse, he had left Finola at the keep.

As they drew nearer, the sounds became louder and more confusing. They didn't sound like fighting. No swords crashed. No one screamed in terror and agony. Brion caught a glimpse of the tumult around the keep for just an instant as he crested the last knoll and plunged into a grove of aspens that covered the hillside. When he pounded out of the trees into the wide area below the keep where the Salassani had made their camp, he pulled Misty to a halt. York reined in beside him.

"What's going on?" York asked, apparently as confused as Brion.

Salassani and Carpentini were swarming the hillside, cheering and calling. Someone was blowing a horn in long, deep-throated calls that echoed over the hills. A host of men on horseback with bows, lances, helmets, and swords was spreading out over the green in front of the keep. A line of wagons trundled in over the hills. Above it all snapped the white standard with the diving eagle, its wings outspread and its talons reaching for its prey.

"Emyr," Brion whispered in disbelief. He looked at York. "It's Emyr."

How could it be Emyr? There was no way Daren could have reached Chullish and returned already. Brion kicked Misty into a gallop again and swept toward the milling crowd. Brion and York had to dismount once they reached the base of the hill because of the press of people, so Brion and York tied their horses near the lean-to and pushed into the throng. People he didn't even know hugged him and patted him on the back. "It's the king," they said. "The king has come."

Brion and York finally broke into an area around the entrance to the keep where soldiers in bright mail kept the crowd back. One of them stepped in front of Brion and York as they tried to hurry past and laid a restraining hand on Brion's shoulder.

"Stop," he said. His voice had a strong southern accent. Brion spoke to him in Alamani.

"I'm Brion of Wexford," he said.

The soldier gave him a stony stare. "You still can't go up to the keep," he said.

Brion sighed. "I'm the Duke of Saylen."

The soldier scowled in confusion. His gaze passed over Brion as if Brion's trail-worn attire and wet hair didn't make him look much like a duke.

"I'm the king's brother-in-law," Brion said.

The soldier still looked dubious. "Wait here, please," he said.

Brion considered ignoring the soldier and plowing ahead. He was anxious to see Emyr, but he understood why the soldier was being cautious. He didn't have to wait long. In a few moments, Emyr was striding toward him with a broad grin on his face. Gwyneth and Finola, with Iain perched on her hip, trailed behind Emyr.

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