17. Fourteen

The descent from the mountain was arduous, our battle-weary bodies protesting with every step. Ruith leaned heavily on me, his injured leg dragging through the snow. My head throbbed from my impact with the stone column, the world tilting and blurring at the edges of my vision. But we pushed onward, knowing that to linger in those mountains was to court further disaster.

The dire wolf's heart was wrapped carefully in a scrap of fabric torn from my cloak that Ruith wore at his side.

As we stumbled into the foothills, the terrain gradually smoothed, snow giving way to stone and scraggly vegetation. The sun rode high in the crisp blue sky, but its weak warmth did little to chase the chill from our bones. Every breath was a white puff in the frigid air, every step a monumental effort as our battered muscles trembled with fatigue.

But finally, as the shadows lengthened, and the light turned golden with impending dusk, we heard the first signs of civilization: the murmur of many voices echoing through the hills. It spurred us on, urging us to go faster.

When we left at the crack of dawn to climb into the Spine of the Gods, only a handful of elves had come to see us off. Yet as we emerged from the treacherous mountain pass, the sight that greeted us stole my breath. A great crowd had gathered at the base of the mountain, a sea of elves and men stretching as far as the eye could see. Many were dressed in vibrant purples, deep greens, and shimmering golds, a stark contrast to the bleak grays and whites of the snowy peaks behind us. But some wore the simple white vestments of slaves. There were far more present than the weary band I had left behind.

Banners snapped in the crisp wind, emblazoned with the sigils of several clans I did not know. I recognized only the banners of the Stoneriver and Wolfheart Clans, waving proudly at the foot of the mountain.

A cheer went up from the gathered throng, a roar of triumph that shook the very earth beneath our feet. The dire wolf's heart gleamed crimson in the fading light. But as I scanned the sea of faces, my gaze was drawn to a small knot of Wolfhearts who stood apart from the rest, their expressions somber and unyielding.

Klaus stood at the center, arms crossed, posture rigid with barely contained tension. Neither he nor his men cheered, and they did not join in the celebration that swelled around them. Instead, he watched us in silence, eyes dark.

As we drew closer to the gathered throng, the cheers grew louder, the excitement palpable in the air. But my focus remained on Klaus and his stoic Wolfhearts, unease twisting in my gut. Did he know about Ruith and me? Had Senna revealed our secret out of spite? He wouldn't, would he? Surely even he wasn't that bitter to ruin an entire war over something so small.

I scanned the crowd, searching for Senna's face, dreading the smug satisfaction I might find there. But he was nowhere to be seen, his absence both a relief and a new source of worry. What was he plotting in the shadows while all eyes were fixed on us?

Ruith's hand tightened on my shoulder as we reached the edge of the crowd, drawing me back to the present. The people parted before us, reverent hands reaching out to brush against Ruith's cloak, their eyes shining with hope and awe. For a moment, I allowed myself to be swept up in their fervor, in the dream of a world remade.

Lords Victorin and Harwin came forward to kneel before us.

"My king," Victorin began, "what shall I tell the scribes to record of your hunt?"

"Tell them their king has slain a dire wolf and cut out its heart, and tell them we will honor the memory of the late Queen Siriyama by adopting the plum tree as the symbol of Clan Starfall."

"At once, my king." Victorin bowed his head before taking his husband's hand. The two of them rose and retreated while the crowd cheered.

Hawk met me a little further down the mountain, standing beside Ieduin, Katyr, Niro, and the Lady Altani. "There have been some developments since you left," he announced.

"I can see that." I jerked my chin toward the crowd. "Where have they all come from?"

"From all over," Ieduin reported. "Word has spread that King Ruith has freed all the slaves and they're defecting from elven households by the dozen to come down here and fight. Most of them are practically pissing themselves for the opportunity to kill an elf master. Their words, not mine."

I frowned. Fighting for Ruith was one thing, but if they were only here to spill elf blood, things could escalate. There was also no way to tell if any of them might be like Nessir, a double agent for the enemy. Ideally, we would vet each one, but we simply lacked the resources. That, and there was no way to vet anyone without records.

"Compile a list of fifty men you know and trust," I instructed Hawk. "Men whom you think would be good in leadership roles. I want a draft by the end of the day tomorrow, and we'll start an interview process."

Hawk nodded, his weathered face grim. "Aye, I will, but there's something else you should know," he said, lowering his voice. "The Wolfhearts have been acting strange since you left. Lots of activity in their camp, lots of whispered conversations. I don't know what they're planning, but it feels like trouble."

I glanced over at the Wolfheart contingent, noting the tension in their postures, the way they held themselves apart from the celebration. Klaus's eyes met mine, cold and inscrutable, before he turned away.

"What of the queen?" I asked, realizing for the first time that Taelyn was nowhere to be found.

Hawk hesitated, his eyes darting to the grand pavilion erected at the base of the mountain, its rich purple fabric snapping in the wind. "The queen hasn't left the king's tent since she arrived. She's set a heavy guard of her own clansmen around it, and they're not letting anyone in or out. Not even the king's own men."

I frowned, a sense of unease settling in my gut like a coiled serpent. What was Taelyn playing at? Were the Wolfhearts planning to make a move? Or was this simply a way to assert her dominance as the future queen?

I turned to Hawk. "I don't like this. Ruith could be in danger. We need to…"

But as I took a step forward, the world tilted violently, my vision blurring at the edges. I stumbled, my injured body finally betraying me.

Hawk's strong hands caught me before I could fall, his face creased with concern. "Steady there, lad. You're in no shape to be charging off just yet. You need healing first."

I gritted my teeth, frustration warring with the pain that pulsed through my battered body. As much as I hated to admit it, Hawk was right. In my current state, I would be more hindrance than help if trouble arose.

"Fine," I ground out. "But we need to move quickly. Go and fetch Katyr and Niro. Tell them it's urgent."

Hawk nodded, his expression grim. "Aye, I'll bring them. You just focus on staying upright."

As he strode off into the crowd, I leaned heavily against a nearby boulder, my breath coming in short, pained gasps. The world swam before my eyes, the distant figures of the crowd blurring into a kaleidoscope of color and motion. I closed my eyes, trying to center myself, to push past the pain and exhaustion that threatened to drag me under.

Getting to the healers was easier said than done. People seemed to want to stop me every few feet to speak words of congratulations or to introduce themselves. Elves who would have previously spoken of me only as Ruith's pet now offered me food, drink, even the honor of laying with their wives and daughters. I rebuffed them all as gently as I could, my head throbbing.

At last I made it to the small tent occupied by some of Katyr's healer mages and sat where they indicated. Two mages had just placed their hands on me when the tent flap opened and Leif and Torsten came running in.

"Prince Elindir!" Torsten cried, his thin arms wrapping around my waist. "You're back! We were so worried!"

Leif hung back a step, his dark eyes scanning me intently. "You're hurt," he said, his voice wavering.

I managed a small smile, ruffling Torsten's unruly hair. "I'll be alright," I assured them. "The healers will have me fixed up in no time."

But even as I spoke the words, a sense of urgency gripped me. If trouble was brewing with the Wolfhearts, I needed to be ready. I couldn't afford to be laid up in a healer's tent. "Listen. I need you two to find Ieduin and stay with them, all right? Tell them I sent you to them for safe keeping. If anything happens, you follow their lead."

Torsten's grip on me tightened, his eyes widening. "What's going to happen?"

I hesitated. I didn't want to frighten them further, but they needed to be prepared. "I'm not sure, but it's better to be cautious. Speaking of which, have either of you seen Senna since I left?"

Leif shifted his weight from foot to foot, his gaze darting to the tent flap as if expecting Senna to burst through at any moment. "We haven't seen him since yesterday."

Torsten nodded, his small face pinched with worry. "Do you think he's planning something bad?"

I sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility settling over me like a leaden cloak. "I don't know. But I intend to find out. In the meantime, I need you two to stay safe. Ieduin will look after you until I return."

Torsten's lower lip trembled, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But what if you don't come back? What if something happens to you?"

My heart clenched at the thought of leaving these two boys alone in a world that had already been so cruel to them. I reached out, cupping Torsten's face gently in my hands. "Listen to me. This is not where I fall. I have come too far, fought too hard for this to be the end. I need you boys to believe in me and be strong for me. Can you do that?"

They nodded.

"Good. Now, off with you. Find Ieduin and make sure you tell them I've sent you."

The boys clamored from the healing tent just as Katyr, Niro, and Hawk all arrived.

"We need to get to Ruith's tent," I said urgently, already moving toward the entrance. "Something's not right."

We set off at a brisk pace, weaving through the crowd that still milled about the base of the mountain. The rich purple fabric of Ruith's tent loomed ahead, snapping in the wind like a banner of war. As we drew closer, I noticed the heavy presence of Wolfheart guards, their postures wary, hands on their swords.

My heart sank as I realized we were too late. Ruith was already inside, and from the low murmur of voices that emanated from within, he was not alone. We quickened our pace, but as we reached the perimeter of the tent, the Wolfheart guards moved to block our path.

"None may enter," one of them said, his voice cold and flat.

"By whose authority?" Katyr demanded, stepping forward.

Niro put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Stand aside. We have urgent business with the king."

The guard's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his sword. "No one may enter," he repeated.

Katyr's taps flared and simmered, glowing gold in the darkness. "I would advise you to listen. I will see my brother, even if I must step over your cooling corpse to do it."

Hawk drew his sword, prompting the surrounding guards to do the same.

A commotion erupted from within the tent, the clang of steel and shouts of alarm shattering the tense standoff. Without hesitation, I lunged forward, shouldering past the startled guards. Katyr's magic flared, a blinding flash that sent the Wolfhearts staggering back, their hands flying to their eyes.

We burst into the tent, weapons drawn, ready for battle. The scene that greeted us was one of chaos. Ruith lay on the ground, clutching his side, blood seeping between his fingers. Queen Taelyn stood over him, her blade flashing as she fended off a group of Wolfheart warriors. But to my surprise, not all the Wolfhearts were against her. Several of them had turned on their own, their swords clashing in a deadly dance.

I charged forward, my sword singing as it cleaved through the air. I engaged the nearest Wolfheart, our blades meeting with a bone-jarring clang. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Niro and Hawk wade into the fray, their weapons flashing in the dim light of the tent. Katyr's magic crackled and surged, golden tendrils snaking out to ensnare our foes.

The Wolfheart I faced was skilled, his blade a blur of silver as he pressed his attack. I cut him down and turned around.

With a shout, Taelyn parried her attacker's sword, her movements graceful. Her silver-white hair whipped around her face, her storm-gray eyes narrowed with fierce determination as she fought to keep the would-be assassin from claiming her husband.

I rushed over and drove my sword into the Wolfheart guard's back. He froze and then collapsed to the ground. Taelyn nodded her thanks to me, but there was no time to acknowledge each other's skill.

I dropped to one knee beside Ruith. "What happened?"

"My father has betrayed us," Taelyn announced, sheathing her sword. "I do not know how, but somehow he knows about you two and he has taken offense. He feels you've been dishonest in your dealings, so he sent someone here to kill the king."

"It is as she says," Ruith panted while Katyr rushed over to examine his wounds. "We are discovered, Elindir."

"Senna," I growled under my breath, fist clenching tight around the sword. If I ever saw that cowardly traitor again, I'd cut his head clean off.

I shook my head, pushing thoughts of vengeance aside. There would be time enough for that later, if we survived. The sounds of battle raged outside the tent, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded a discordant symphony that set my teeth on edge. We had to move, and quickly, before the Wolfhearts regrouped and overwhelmed us.

"Can you stand?" I asked Ruith.

Ruith gritted his teeth. "I think so."

Katyr had finished his examination, his face grim but not despairing. "The wound is deep, but not fatal. If we can get him to the healers, he should recover."

With a grunt of effort, Ruith allowed Katyr and me to help him to his feet, leaning heavily on us for support. His blood was warm and sticky on my hands, the coppery scent of it filling my nostrils.

"We must move, quickly," Taelyn said, her voice tight with tension. "My father's men will be upon us at any moment."

I nodded, my mind racing as I tried to formulate a plan. The tent was surrounded, the Wolfhearts no doubt closing in even as we spoke. We would have to fight our way out, carving a path through the enemy to reach the safety of our own forces.

I glanced around the tent. We were outnumbered and surrounded, with a wounded king to protect. But we were far from helpless. Katyr's magic crackled at his fingertips. Niro and Hawk stood ready with swords drawn, and the few loyal Wolfhearts who had turned against their treacherous brethren formed a protective circle around us.

"We fight our way out," I declared, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "Niro, Hawk, take the lead. Kat, help me bear Ruith. The rest of you, clear us a path."

Grim nods all around. They knew the odds, knew the risks.

I turned to Taelyn. "Stay close to Ruith. If any get past us..."

She met my gaze and shifted her grip on her sword. "They will not. I will guard my husband with my life."

With that, we moved out of the tent. Niro and Hawk met the enemy head-on, their swords flashing in the firelight. They moved with deadly grace, each strike precise and devastating. The loyal Wolfhearts fought alongside them, their blades singing as they clashed with their traitorous kin.

I stayed close to Ruith and Taelyn, my sword at the ready. Ruith leaned heavily on me, his face pale and drawn, but his eyes blazed with determination. Taelyn was a whirlwind of steel at his side, her blade a silver blur as she cut down any who dared approach.

A crackling bolt of lightning arced from Kat's fingertips. It struck a charging Wolfheart square in the chest, hurling him backwards into his comrades. The smell of ozone and charred flesh filled the tent.

"Forward!" Niro called. "Follow me!"

As we moved away from the tent, the scene before us was one of chaos and carnage. The loyal Wolfhearts were locked in a desperate battle, their swords flashing in the fading light. Hawk and Niro waded into the fray without hesitation, their blades cutting down foe after foe.

I kept Ruith close to my side as we fought our way through the press of bodies, my sword a blur of steel that parried and thrust with desperate precision.

We forged ahead through the chaos, Ruith's labored breathing harsh in my ears. The wound on his side wept crimson with every staggering step, his weight heavy against me as I half-carried, half-dragged him through the fray. But even now, with death nipping at our heels, he clung to the shredded remnants of his pride, his head held high and his jaw clenched against the pain.

Niro gave a shout as the Broken Blades flocked to our side. At his command, they fell into formation around us, a living shield of steel and magic that beat back the tide of enemies with ruthless efficiency.

"Protect the king!" Niro roared, his voice rising above the din of battle. "Stand your ground!"

The Broken Blades responded with a wordless cry of loyalty, redoubling their efforts as they fought with renewed vigor. Beside us, the Stonerivers rallied to our cause, their swords and spears flashing in the fading light as they threw themselves into the fight with reckless abandon.

Slowly, the tide began to turn.

Step by step, inch by bloody inch, we carved a path through the chaos, the Broken Blades and Stonerivers forming an impenetrable wall around us. I clung to Ruith, supporting his faltering steps, my sword arm aching with the strain of fending off the relentless onslaught. The world narrowed to the press of bodies, the clash of steel, the coppery scent of blood heavy in the air.

The tide of battle shifted, the momentum swinging in our favor as the Broken Blades and Stonerivers rallied around us. The traitorous Wolfhearts wavered, their resolve crumbling. One by one, they fell, cut down by flashing blades or struck by magic until, at last, they broke and fled.

I scanned the chaos, my heart pounding, searching for any sign of further danger. It was then that I spotted Klaus Wolfheart, mounted atop a sleek black warhorse, his silver-streaked hair whipping about his weathered face as he wheeled his steed around. For a moment, our eyes met across the battlefield, a silent exchange of hatred and defiance. Then he was gone, spurring his horse into a gallop, riding west.

Ruith sagged against me, his breath coming in short, pained gasps. "We must... get to safety," he gritted out, his face pale and sheened with sweat.

I nodded grimly, tightening my grip on him as we staggered forward. The Broken Blades and Stonerivers formed a protective circle around us, their eyes wary and their weapons at the ready.