Page 84 of North Queen
And then he was on her.
He grabbed her by the throat, pressing her hard against the wall. Norah dropped her sword and clawed at his hand, but it held.
“Do not test me, North Queen,” he snarled.
But Norah wasn’t testing him; this wasn’t facetious rebellion. She needed to get away, she needed to be free. Her life depended on it. Mercia depended on it. So she fought. With everything she had, she fought.
Her fingers grazed the hilt of a dagger at his waist, and she snatched it, ripping it across the unarmored forearm of his spear hand. He snarled again as he dropped the spear and tried to catch the knife, but in a final effort, she drove it between the break in his armor on the side of his breastplate. Her angle was off, and the hit wasn’t true, but he roared in pain. Then she threw up an elbow and caught him at the base of his throat, just under his helm. She just needed to get him off…
He crushed her against the wall, leveraging his weight to overpower her. She couldn’t breathe. As he recovered, he pulled her to him, tight. She was no match for his strength, and, with no more weapons, no more energy, she stilled.
Norah panted between her teeth as she waited for his wrath. He had warned her, and no doubt she’d suffer his anger now. But it wasn’t anger that she saw in his eyes underneath his helm. Surprise, perhaps? Disbelief?
“Hold her,” he growled. His brute commander stepped forward and seized her arms, not gently.
The king gathered himself for a moment and then pulled the blade from his side with a grunt. Then he stepped toward her with the blood-covered blade in his hand. Terror rippled up her spine. What was he going to do?
A horn sounded from the mist behind them, and he stopped and turned. From behind her, the brute let out a low whistle.
Just then, a soldier on horseback stepped through the mist. He called to the king in the Shadow tongue. The king straightened and looked at his brute.
News.
He growled something unintelligible back to the messenger, who only gave a nod. Then he looked at her with eyes of night under his horned helm and shifted.
News that bothered him.
The king snapped an order to a soldier, who brought him a leather cord. He stepped forward and caught her wrists, clenching them tightly and tying her hands. Then he jerked her from the commander and pushed her toward the army. She didn’t fight. There was no chance for her now, but seeing the brute commander limp back to another horse brought her a wave of satisfaction.
The king pushed her in front of him as they walked. His presence behind her made her skin crawl, but she focused her eyes ahead and kept walking. She stumbled over a sliver of a spear protruding from the frozen ground but caught herself—she’d almost forgotten the field of death they were walking across. She kept her eyes on the ground to watch her step. Just then, she spotted a sheath belt, half-covered in frozen mud, with what appeared to be a knife inside it. Or maybe it wasn’t a knife at all. But if it was…
She faked another stumble and dropped to her knee over it, quickly grabbing at the hilt. Her heart leapt. It was a knife—a rusted knife, but a knife nonetheless. The king grabbed her arm and pulled her back to her feet, and she tucked the blade up her jacket sleeve the best she could manage with her hands tied.
A soldier brought a horse, a smaller palfrey—no doubt a less energetic mount, and the king dragged her toward it. She struggled against him. “I can manage myself,” she hissed.
He shoved her forward. “Get on.”
She grabbed the pommel, careful to keep her knife hidden in her sleeve, and mounted the palfrey. The binding cut into her wrists, but she gritted through it. She glared back at the king as he mounted his destrier beside her.
Wait.Was that it? Were they leaving?
“What about the mountains?”
“Change of plans,” he said shortly. “The Bear comes for you.”
She swallowed. Did he meanAlexander?Had he confused him with his father?
“He brings your entire army. Just as I expected.”
“Well, if it’s a change of plans, it’s notexactlyas you expected,” she cut back.
His eyes burned into her. “Your army will meet their fate all the same. And you can watch, before you join them.”
He was trying to scare her. It was working.
Taking one last look at the stronghold, he gave a frustrated snarl and led them away.
She shifted uncomfortably as they rode. She knew he wanted the stronghold of Bahoul. What had been the news? What had changed? He had expected her army, and they were coming. What was different?
