The sword was small enough she’d be able to wield it without tiring for a little while. It wasn’t too heavy and would do some serious damage to anyone who tried to harm her.
Ignoring the sting of the healing burn on her palm from Orin, she slid the belt around her waist and buckled it before sheathing the sword. Lexi had no intention of leaving this palace. She wouldn’t become a distraction to Cole, and despite all the training Brokk had been putting her through, she wouldn’t last on that battlefield, but she wouldn’t remain weaponless either.
Searching the walls, she discovered throwing stars hanging fifteen feet away. She smiled as her fingers itched for them. Unlike the sword that she had little practice with, she was good with throwing stars, and they wouldn’t tire her out as fast as using a blade she’d never wielded before.
She ran over to the stars and started to reach for them. She froze when she saw the intricate designs marking the thick metal. The sword she’d selected was not welded from fae metal, but the stars were.
However, she wasn’t fae. It wasn’t against the rules for her to use fae metal against them. Of course, it probably wasn’t the best idea for her to use fae metal against the fae she might one day rule over, but it had been a worse idea for them to rise against Cole.
And she would make them pay for that if it became necessary.
She removed a brown satchel from a hook next to the stars and tied it to the other side of her waist. When she was sure it was secure and wouldn’t interfere with the sword, she shoved the stars inside.
Gathered by the gates, the hundred or so soldiers of the king’s army stood as they waited for Cole to arrive. Their horses pranced as the torches drew nearer and the noise of the approaching army, and those fleeing it, increased.
Shouts from the fae folk living in the homes on the hills resonated through the night as they fled toward the palace. Refugees from the town were already pouring through the side door next to the gates.
Sobs and screams filled the air. Women hugged their children as their husbands ushered them forward. Some of the single men, and a few of the husbands, asked for weapons to join against the rebellion.
Normally, Cole would not welcome untrained farmers, merchants, smiths, and artisans on the battlefield, but at one time, the king’s army numbered much higher. That was before the Lord’s war decimated their numbers. And now, he couldn’t turn a willing fighter down.
The army marching against him would be filled with many of the same as what was gathering near his gates. There would also be skilled fighters amid the group, but not as many as before the war.
Cole fought with many of the king’s men during the Lord’s war, but his father was king. Their loyalty was with his father, and he had no idea how many now considered themselves loyal to him.
During the war, he’d saved many of these men’s lives, but that didn’t mean he could count on them not to stab him in the back. He had no way of knowing how long this rebellion had been in the works, who organized it, or whose loyalty might have been bought by the traitor. Any number of these men could also be a relative of the organizer or organizers.
He was about to ride into battle with his enemies ahead of him and countless more at his back. His skin prickled as he studied the men. Their faces all blended as their horses twisted and turned.
He was about to leave Lexi behind as he rode into battle. Though he hadn’t said anything in front of her and Orin, he did find her silver markings odd. He recalled the silver mark he saw on her forehead after he’d nearly killed her while in the grip of a nightmare.
He’d blown it off then as having come from the bed when she fell out of it. But could he blow off another silver mark on her?
And how could she possibly be anything more than what she believed herself to be? She didn’t have any powers.
Unfortunately, right now, he couldn’t stop to figure out what was going on. He despised the idea of leaving her here alone, especially with all the questions churning in his mind, but the palace would keep her safe, and he had to stop this rebellion.
“Bring me a horse!” Cole shouted to the stable boy running between horses.
He’d much prefer to ride Torigon into this battle, but he left his steadfast mount at Lexi’s manor. It was one more thing working against him at the moment.
More screams and shouts rolled down the hills as the fae fled their homes for the safety of the palace. Those cries echoed throughout the courtyard and rebounded off the palace walls, the houses in the bailey, and stables.
“Milord,” Niall greeted as he rode up and stopped his mount in front of Cole.
Out of everyone here, he trusted Niall the most. They were the same age, and his father was once a general in Cole’s father’s army. When they were children, they played on top of hay bales together, ran through the fields, skipped rocks, shared dreams of being mighty warriors, and later trained in the art of war.
They spent countless nights together carousing with women, drinking, and fighting. Niall had saved his life nearly as many times as Cole saved him during the war. He was one of Cole’s most trusted friends.
The stable boy ran up to him. He was holding the reins of a bay stallion who stood calmly by, as confusion ruled in the courtyard. The animal wasn’t as large as Torigon, but his legs were in good shape, and he wouldn’t shy away during the fight.
All the horses in the stables were battle tried and trained to withstand the noise and chaos sure to follow. That was what mattered most.
Grabbing the pommel, Cole swung himself onto the brown leather saddle and settled himself onto the horse’s back. He seized the reins as he surveyed the men surrounding him.
He was about to find out who was loyal to him and who planned to stab him in the back. He nudged his horse and raised his voice to be heard over the cries of the innocent while he rode before his men.
“Destroy all those who rise against me but, if possible, leave the leaders of this rebellion to me. I will see to their deaths!”
A cheer went through the soldiers, and the horses stomped their feet in anticipation of the battle to come. Turning his horse’s head, he rode up to the palace gates. When he gripped one of the bars, the gates sprang open.
Chapter Three
As he rode through the gates, he pushed them further open so the rest of them could follow. He didn’t bother to close them; they would do so on their own once all the men were through.
His horse’s hooves thundered across the earth, eating up the ground as they galloped up the hills toward the approaching enemy. When he leaned over his horse’s neck and urged the animal faster, the wind blew his hair back and plastered his clothes to him.
Unlike him, many of his men wore armor to keep them protected; the silver mesh and chains making up their armor rattled in the wind. The glow of the four moons illuminated the land and bathed it in a beautiful, silvery light.
When shadows jumped and swayed all around, the ones within him responded to their movements, swelling within him. He sensed the strength in the shadows surrounding him, but he didn’t draw on them or release the shadows inside him. That was still his secret to keep and spring on the Lord when the time was right.
He kept waiting for an arrow or sword to pierce through his back, but so far, he wasn’t feeling the sharp pain of betrayal. The fae still trying to flee the approaching traitors raced past him and toward the palace as the rebel army topped the crest of the next hill.