Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) (30 page)

He burst out of the trees and took in the situation.

Logan was on foot fending off two troll-kin at once. His magical blade, Singer, flashed in the sunlight, lopping off an opponent’s sword hand. The soldier screamed, dropping to the ground and plastering his fingers across the spurting wound. The other soldier’s attack grew frenzied, and a third troll-kin took his fallen brother’s place and joined the fight.

On the far side of the field, wicked hooves kicking, white teeth biting, Solanum’s dark form blurred over the snow taking out one after the other of the troll-kin. But there were too many, and more joined the fight as the booming sound of the battering ram pounded the front door of the lodge.

Kian roared and slashed at the closest soldier, slicing his neck open with one paw, and joining the fray. Blood gushed. The soldier blinked and gurgled and stood still for moments longer, as if not believing his death was real, before he crashed to the ground. Kian barely registered his fall before he was on to the next one. He only had one goal, make it to the lodge and Bryanna.

Agrona wheeled her mount around. “The prince!” she screamed. Sword high and at the ready, she charged toward him. “I want him alive!”

Kian tossed another soldier out of his way and faced her, ready to tear into her with his claws and teeth and destroy her once and for all. “Agrona! You had your chance to flee, you should have taken it.” Instead she’d come here and threatened him, his property, and Bryanna.

“I’m not giving up. I’m going to be a princess, no matter what you want, Kian.” She waved her sword. “Take him!”

The troll-kin advanced. He lunged, his claws sinking deep into a belly, but there were too many. Someone threw a rope and it cinched his arms to his sides. He thrashed and fought and struggled as the sheer weight of a dozen men took him down to the ground.

Buried under a pile of soldiers he glimpsed Logan fighting two troll-kin while a third swung his battle ax high behind his back. Kian bunched his muscles and rose, flinging the men off his back. He pushed them from his path, tossing them to the side like abandoned toy soldiers as he ran to Logan’s side, dragging the rope behind him. The shining blade of the ax glinted in a beam of sunlight and descended. Desperation pushed him harder. He wasn’t going to make it.

“Logan!”

A flash of black and Solanum was there, sharp teeth ripping into the troll-kin’s shoulder. The gleaming ax fell to the side and Logan continued fighting, barely glancing at the puca beside him.

“Solanum, guard Trina!” Logan shouted.

Solanum kicked another soldier away from Logan. “You stupid lout. I’m to guard you.” Bright red blood oozed from his flank, and he screamed a battle cry, his hooves grinding down and crushing a Brethren skull.

“You must guard her first. It’s an order. Guard her as you would me.”

A roar rose up from the troll-kin swinging the battering ram. Someone threw a torch. The door to the lodge burst into flames. The smell of hot copper and burning flesh rose on the air as the carvings on the door screamed and twisted.

Kian roared and turned for the lodge. Soldiers clambered to their feet, seizing the ropes and bracing their feet. He took a step, dragging them on his quest for the burning lodge.

“Hold him still, you fools.” Agrona stepped in front of Kian and blocked him. She swung her sword high.

He managed to free an arm, raking a troll-kin to the bone with his claws and pushing the screaming man away. He jerked his head out of the way as Agrona’s blade descended, but he wasn’t fast enough. The flat of Agrona’s sword hit his forehead hard.

The world swam, becoming a blurry vision of muddy snow, and blood, and men. He sank to his knees. Soldiers wrenched his wrists behind his back and the familiar weight of the enchanted manacles encased his wrists.

Flames leapt within the front windows of the lodge. Adrenaline pumped hard through his system, pushing him to struggle to his feet despite the dizzying ache in his brain.

“Bryanna!”

He had to get to the lodge. He had to get to her. He managed to move, dragging his captors afoot. More soldiers piled on top of him and dragged him to the ground. Through a sea of armored legs he saw the puca working his way to the door, kicking and biting and tossing the vicious troll-kin like broken kindling. Men screamed and bodies flew.

And for a moment he thought they might win.

“Where do you think you’re going, lover?” Agrona’s blade slammed down on his head again and everything went black.

Kian came to, trussed up like a holiday bird. Blood dripped into his eyes obscuring his vision of the battle still raging around him. He blinked, and tried to clear his eyes. Across the field Logan yelled his battle cry, nothing but his bright blue eyes visible through the gore coating his face. He lifted Singer high, taking on two, then three, then four men. Kian winced as the blunt end of a battle ax slammed into his friend’s skull, and he crashed down. Soldiers swarmed over him. One ripped Singer from his grasp and held it high, and they all roared in triumph.

Flames crackled at the door of the lodge as Solanum seized troll-kin one by one in his teeth, tossing them like toys to the side and lunging for the next one. But even more soldiers poured out of the woods, axes and spears raised. They shouted battle cries and made for the lodge.

Kian lost sight of the puca behind the many steel clad legs and hooves. He lay in the mud, defeat tasting as bad as the dirt and ashes in his mouth, and wondered how the hell they’d found him. He turned his head to the side and spotted the sniveling form of Beezel talking to Agrona. His eyes met the gnome’s and for a second Kian thought he saw the little grey man blanch. Then the gnome looked away.

He didn’t know how Beezel had tracked them but he was sure of one thing: they’d been betrayed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Bryanna pressed her nose to the glass. Even the acrid smell of smoke drifting in to the parlor from the front hall couldn’t drag her away from the sight of Kian’s limp body trussed up and thrown on top of a horse. He raised his head and she caught a glimpse of his eyes before a soldier cut off her line of view. The blood rushed out of her head and she had to catch herself on a chair for support.

He was alive.

“Bryanna.” Trina touched her arm. “There’s fire in the front hall. The door is burning. Any second, it’s coming down, and they’ll be inside.”

“What?” She stared at her cousin and tried to comprehend. Even though she could hear and understand the words, none of it came through. All her thoughts were centered on the disaster outside. And Kian.

Trina grabbed both her shoulders and shook her harder. “We have to help them.”

Bryanna knew she should do something. Trina needed something. But Kian was disappearing on the back of a horse into the woods. She lay her palm flat on the cold pane of glass. All their efforts had been futile.

Trina’s fingers dug into Bryanna’s shoulders. She shook her, gave her a disgusted look and let go. “Fine, I’ll go. But don’t say I didn’t try to get you to move.” She picked up her athame and her green shoulder bag and headed for the hall.

The determination in her stride broke Bryanna out of her fog. She ran after her cousin and grabbed her arm. “No! There are too many of them. Logan is down, Kian’s in trouble. How can we do anything?”

“We need more weapons.” Trina looked around the room, her gaze settling on the crossed swords over the mantel. She put her bag down, tucked her athame into her belt, and gestured to a chair. “Help me.”

Together they dragged the heavy upholstered chair over to the fireplace and Trina climbed up. The smoke had found its way around the blanket they’d stuffed at the foot of the door and had crept into the room. Bryanna took too big a breath, and coughed. “We’ve got to get you out of here. Smoke can’t be good for the baby.”

“Neither is not having a father.” Trina stretched out and removed one of the decorative swords over the mantle. She held it out to Bryanna. “Take it.”

“But I don’t know how to use that!”

“If one of those things gets in here, shove the pointy end at it.” Trina glared, the sword’s weight pulling her arm down. “It’s heavy. Take it.”

She reached out and took it and Trina let go. The unexpected weight pulled Bryanna’s arm down and the point touched the floor. She wrapped her fingers around the leather covered grip. It was worn smooth in places and rough in others and it felt strange in her hand.

Trina climbed down from the chair, holding the sword’s mate like an expert. “Now let’s go.” She took a step toward her green bag, and her face went white. She hesitated, took another step, and sank to the floor clutching the blade.

“Trina!” Bryanna dropped the sword on the floor, ignoring the clang of metal on stone, and reached for her cousin.

Trina staggered to her feet. “I’m fine.” She pushed Bryanna away and reached for her bag.

“No, you’re not. I’m not having you lose this baby, not after what I’ve done to save it.” Bryanna snatched the bag out of her reach and maneuvered her cousin into a chair. “Put that sword down, you’re not going anywhere like that and you certainly aren’t fighting.” Bryanna glanced at her own heavy sword lying on the floor. “And this…I can barely lift this stupid thing. We need another plan.” She propped it against the slab hearth and ran back to the window, waving the thickening smoke away and trying to see if there was an escape route.

There were soldiers everywhere. “I don’t know if you can walk but we need a more defensible room.” She coughed. “And one without smoke. Maybe a root cellar?”

“Where’s the root cellar?”

“How the hell would I know?” she asked, shocked at her own language under pressure. “The caretakers would know.” She looked around. “Where are the stupid brownies when you need them?

“I can’t see anything from here.” Trina grumbled. She got out of the chair, hooked her bag and dragged it across the floor to the window. Sinking on a stool next to Bryanna, she wrapped a hand around her barely swollen belly. “What’s happening?” she asked, coughing and leaning her head against the lower part of the wall. Bryanna glanced down at her cousin. She looked exhausted. “Where’s Logan?”

“I can’t see him,” Bryanna answered. “There’s too much smoke outside.” They couldn’t worry about the men, they needed a plan for themselves. Trina’s face was too pale and her pupils appeared larger than usual. A plan that would let Trina rest and get them out of the lodge where the troll-kin were sure to break in at any moment. She knew they were running out of time, but she couldn’t help searching one more time for a glimpse of Kian.

“Crack the window,” Trina said, digging into her bag.

Bryanna pulled open the wooden sash. More smoky air blew in from outside, she coughed, her eyes watering.

Trina extracted a glass bubble from her bag and balanced it in her palm. She blew a soft breath on the surface. The glass shivered, growing thin and watery. It glowed briefly with a clear, bright light before sinking into Trina’s palm. She closed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks, blowing out hard over her palm. Her exhale picked up the power from her palm and grew into a wind, clearing the smoke away from the lodge and the window.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Bryanna asked.

Trina grinned. “It’s been a busy year,” she said. They looked outside at the area the wind had cleared of smoke.

In front of the lodge troll-kin fell like bowling pins from the vicious black stallion’s blurring movements of hooves and teeth, and rolled to lie bleeding in the dirt. But despite his furious defense of the building, even as he damaged one, more came at him, swinging swords, and axes, and enormous bronze hammers.

For a moment, Bryanna thought the puca could take them all on. Then a massive ax, its shining face tipped with black iron, came down and cleaved a huge gash in his side. Skin ripped and blood gushed.

Trina screamed. The sound hung in the air and everything seemed to halt. Blood slowed, men froze mid-turn. The movement of the ax arrested, the front of the blade covered in brilliant red had already exited. The rest of the deadly edge was still stuck in the wound.

It ripped free.

A black cloud burst out of the puca, the sonic boom knocking Bryanna and Trina to the floor.

“What the hell?” Trina gasped.

Bryanna staggered to her feet, and ran for the window. Outside, a glowing force-field of translucent black stretched up into the sky and over the roof, shielding Solanum and the lodge. Beyond the force-field, she could make out chunks of troll-kin twitching on the muddy battlefield, broken pieces of living shrapnel. The remaining troll-kin stumbled around the perimeter of the dome, slowly gathering their wounded and loading them onto horses.

“I think they’re leaving.”

Dying smoke trailed through the battlefield and inside the house, but the fires in the door and in the hall had gone out. Trina’s fingers scrabbled at Bryanna’s leg. She helped her cousin up, letting her lean on her, and see.

Logan was tied on top of another horse. Blood dripped from his wounds forming a brilliant cardinal stain on the snow. Trina’s weight grew suddenly heavy. “Logan,” she whispered. Bryanna eased her back onto the stool.