Page 115 of Sword & Sacrifice

As they neared, the man’s complaints grew louder: “Stop treating me like an invalid! I can still fight.”

“You can’t even walk,” the other woman grunted.

Silas recognized Captain Dresden, one of Archer’s soldiers who had been injured during the prison break. Although half the man’s face was bandaged, determination blazed in his visible eye. Unfortunately, one of his legs was splinted and couldn’t support his weight.

“I don’t need to walk—I need someone to get me a damn crossbow so I can shoot the fuckers!”

“Captain!” Langley ran forward to take over as Dresden’s crutch, slipping in on Emmaline’s side and easily taking the captain’s full weight.

“Langley, great timing,” Dresden panted. “Get me to the wall.”

“He doesn’t need to go to the wall!” Emmaline insisted, plunking her hands on her hips. “He needs to get somewhere safe!”

“I’d rather die a soldier than cower as a civilian.”

“How about dying from an infection?”

Ignoring the squabbling group, Braden gestured for Koen to come to him. “Let’s get inside.”

Koen shook his head sharply. “I’m not hiding while everyone else defends the kingdom.”

Braden groaned in exasperation. “You’re fifteen, Koen. There are trained soldiers here—”

“I’m trained too,” Koen insisted, stubbornly lifting his chin. He patted a scabbard at his side, holding either a short sword or a long dagger, Silas couldn’t tell the difference.

“We’re not arguing,” Silas said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. “We’re all going inside. You too, Em.”

Her eyes widened as she pointed at herself. “Me? But I’m a medic! If someone’s injured, they’ll need my help!”

Silas clasped her shoulders and looked deep into her hazel eyes. “Your mother ordered me to protect you, so that’s what I’m doing. I can’t focus on anything else that needs to be done unless I know you’re safe.”

Em’s eyes watered as she looked back at Silas. “But I …”

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” the other woman said, grabbing Em’s hand and entwining their fingers. She laid her head against Emmaline, golden blond curls draping over her shoulder. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Silas’ brow furrowed as he examined the woman. “And who are you?”

“Echo, your disguise,” Emmaline said gently.

“What? Oh, right. I have boobs.” The woman began shimmying out of her frilly blue dress right there in the middle of the courtyard. Thankfully, she wore tight-fitting pants and a white shirt underneath, as if she often stripped in public. As soon as the skirt dropped to the ground, their appearance shifted back into the sailor’s androgynous features. “Hullo, Majesties,” they said, saluting in Silas and his family’s general direction.

Silas blinked, unsure how to handle someone who so casually changed their appearance. When Valerian had glamoured Penn and Griselda, the magic had been inked into their skin. The closest Silas had seen to this kind of glamour was when Varro used an amulet to impersonate Silas. Can I trust Echo when they can so easily change their face?

The warning bells clanged again, drawing Silas’ attention to the wall. Shouting rose all along it as soldiers fired arrows and crossbows toward distant targets.

“Inside!” Silas said, waving for everyone to go in.

Langley had to wrestle Dresden back toward the palace while the man lectured him on disobedience, “I’m still your captain, even if only half of me is left, and I’m ordering you to take me to that gods damned wall!”

Langley ignored the orders like he would a small child throwing a tantrum and hauled Dresden up the stairs.

Emmaline surged toward the wall, but Echo stopped her. They leaned down and scooped her into their arms, running up the palace steps.

“Echo, you put me down right now!”

“Sorry, princess, but Captain’s orders were to follow the king’s orders, and the king’s orders are to take you inside,” they shouted over the noise as they ran up the stairs with her.

Silas cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted, “Take her to the kitchens!” Then he turned back to his father and Koen, the only two who remained. Koen probably would have run off to join the soldiers if their father didn’t have his arm in a death grip. “Koen, the kitchens will be full of palace servants and other civilians. If something happens and Varro’s men break into the palace, they’ll need someone to protect them. Can you guard them for me?”