at my side, but this is not one of them. Please, go back to the abbey and wait with Berdi.”
Her lip trembled. She was thirteen years old and ready to fight the world, but she saw I wouldn’t be moved and angrily turned away, leaving for the abbey.
I looked back at Rafe.
He nodded. “Let’s go get some traitors.”
* * *
We circled behind the outbuilding, walking through the village, Rafe on one side of me, Kaden on the other. A wagon trudged alongside us, a wheelbarrow pushed a little farther ahead, and still more followed behind with burlap sacks slung over shoulders, their supposed wares spilling over the top. Our boots tapped an uneven beat on the cobblestones; the wagon wheels creaked and bumped; our cloaks flapped in the wind, every noise sounding like a herald announcing our approach and yet somehow we blended in with citizens going about their business.
As we walked, more fell into step with us, waiting and ready, looking like merchants headed for the marketplace, and I wondered how Rafe had been able to assemble such a squad—not just soldiers but performers as well, perceiving the smallest of cues. He had said they numbered a hundred strong. I thought about what the six of us had been able to do in Venda, but then we had been running away from the enemy, not trying to settle into their dark den. How long could a hundred soldiers hold off the Morrighese army? There were at least two thousand troops stationed at Piers Camp, only a short distance away.
My heart pounded. This was no childhood rebellion. This was a coup, and in the eyes of Morrighese law, the most unforgivable crime. I had received an extensive lecture on it when I was fourteen. Back then, my punishment had been banishment to my chamber for a month. Today if we failed, the rebellion would be grounds for a mass hanging of epic proportions. I tried not to think of the shortcomings of our small army—only what was at stake. Everything.
The front of the citadelle was in sight, and for the first time, Rafe’s steps faltered. “I can’t promise that Morrighese soldiers won’t die.”
I nodded. I had told Rafe and his men that I wanted as little blood spilled as possible. While there were Vendans among the citadelle guards, some of them were still Morrighese and surely believed they were only following orders.
He still didn’t move forward, a scowl pulling between his brows. “You don’t have to go in, Lia. We can go first, and once the hall is secure, we can send for you.” He and Kaden exchanged a glance. A knowing glance.
“If either of you try to stop me, you will die. Do you understand?”
“You’re injured, Lia,” Kaden said.
“One hand is injured,” I answered. “My strengths are not your strengths.”
We reached the plaza, and the men disguised as citadelle guards walked up the steps to the string of guards stationed at the entrance. Jeb, his Morrighese pitch-perfect, told them his squad was there to relieve them. The center guard looked confused, not recognizing Jeb or the others, and balked, but it was too late for them to act. Rafe’s men were quick and assured and their short swords cut the air with a single united shing, just as quickly pressing them to the guards’ chests. They pushed them back into the dark recess of the portal, taking their weapons while the rest of us flooded up the steps, shedding cloaks and unfurling more weapons from wagons and sacks.
Taking the next line of guards wasn’t as bloodless. They spotted us from the end of the passageway. Two of them moved to close the heavy hallway doors while the rest charged shoulder to shoulder toward us bearing halberds that far outreached our swords. Rafe’s archers stepped forward, shouting a warning order to stop. They didn’t, and multiple arrows flew beneath the guard’s shields and into their legs. When they stumbled, they were overtaken, and we charged the doors before the other guards were able to bar it. As one of them began to shout a warning, Sven knocked him unconscious.
The last two guards, posted outside the closed doors to Aldrid Hall, were ceremonial at best. Their purpose was to turn away uninvited visitors, not defend against attackers. Their hair was silver, their stomachs paunchy, and their armor consisted only of a leather helmet and breastplate. They drew their swords uncertainly.
I stepped forward, and they recognized me.
“Your Highness—” The guard caught himself, unsure what to call me.
“Lay down your weapons and step aside,” I ordered. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will. The kingdom and my brothers’ lives are at stake.”
Their eyes bulged with fear, but they stood their ground. “We have our orders.”
“As do I,” I answered. “Move. Now. Every second you delay puts lives at risk.”
They didn’t budge.
I looked at the archers who stood to my right. “Shoot them,” I commanded.
When the guards shifted their attention to the archers, Rafe and Kaden moved in from the left, striking the swords from their grasps and slamming both men against the wall.
Before the doors were opened, we implemented the last of our plans. Other than myself, only Pauline knew the layout of the citadelle, and I sent her off with precise instructions about what she was to bring back to me. Jeb and Captain Azia went with her. “The guard posted at the door is Vendan,” I said. “You may have to kill him.”
Kaden left with two of the soldiers dressed as citadelle guards. His quest was more uncertain, though I told him exactly what to look for. Gwyneth was sent in yet another direction with the rest of the soldiers dressed as guards. With the whole cabinet convened in Aldrid Hall, I prayed the passageways would be mostly empty.
My head pounded with the sound of their receding footsteps, a lifetime of voices awakening within me.
Hold your tongue, Arabella!
Quiet!