Page 94 of North Queen
“Hekilled his horse,” she corrected.
“Letting you escape wasn’t an option,” he snapped back defensively, then paused. “There’s nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for me, for my cause.” His voice came softer. “Even that which he holds most dear.”
Norah wasn’t sure she believed the brute capable of holding something dear. She looked back at the falling manor. She didn’t want to believe her father would cause such devastation either.
The king gave a thick cough, and she glanced back at him. He was looking down at his hand. His lips were tinged with blood. He swayed in his saddle and started to slump forward.
“Are you all right?” she called to him.
He didn’t respond.
She urged her horse beside him, warily leaning closer. “King Mikael, are you all right?”
Something was wrong. His breaths came short and shallow, and his movement was lethargic.
“Are you unwell?” she asked.
“I’m well enough,” he struggled. “We should get back.” He shifted his weight to rein his horse around but started to fall.
She reached out and caught him, gripping him tightly. “What’s happening?”
He blinked and grabbed her arm. “I’m fine, just help me to my horse.”
“You’re on your horse! What’s wrong with you?”
His senses seemed to return somewhat. “The blade,” he said. “It’s the poison.”
She shook her head as confusion hit her. “The blade? What blade?” Then she remembered the night before. “Are you talking about the wound on your leg? Were you stabbed? That was yesterday! By now…” Her words fell. By now, it would have spread through his body.
She stopped. She had a horse. Her eyes found the mountains in the distance, and they called to her. The mountains where she’d find her Northmen. They could take her back to Mercia.Back to Alexander.
She turned back to the king. Surely his commander didn’t know they were here. She looked back at the mountains. Even if she wanted to save him, it was unlikely. She couldn’t stop poison.
He wavered, and she gripped him tighter to keep him upright, struggling as the horses moved.
“Hammel’s hell,” she cursed, deciding. She really hated herself right now.
Norah urged her mount closer and awkwardly climbed onto the king’s destrier behind him. She put her arms around him and reined the horse back toward the tree line.
“If you fall off, there’s no way I’ll get you back on,” she told him. “I’ll leave you here!”
He gave a weak snort.
Where were the soldiers when she needed them?
Norah urged the destrier forward. She cursed again as anger welled inside her—anger at herself, at the situation, at the king. “How did you even get stabbed with all this armor?” she snapped. “And why didn’t you get help earlier? Are all men so daft?”
Her flurry of scolding fell on unconscious ears, and she clenched her teeth in frustration. She eyed the tree line for the path to return, but it seemed to have disappeared. Norah struggled with the weight of the king as she swept the base of the trees. Her search yielded nothing. She pulled the horse up, feeling she had gone too far, then turned the destrier around. The king’s weight shifted to her left, and she clung to him to keep him from falling. She cursed again under her breath, with fear that she might not be able to get him back seeding inside her. Just then, she spotted the path between two oversize trees, and she breathed words of thanks to whichever gods were listening.
The ride from the army to the manor hadn’t seemed far, but the way back along the path felt like a year. Her arms burned as she struggled to keep the king upright. She breathed a sigh of relief when they broke through the trees, and she saw the army marching in the distance.
“Soren!” she cried at the top of her lungs.
Movement rippled through the ranks as they looked to see what was happening.
“Soren!” she cried out again.
A large man mounted on a horse broke away from the army, galloping toward them, and she knew it was him. When he reached them, he reined up beside her, his horse rearing and exciting the king’s destrier, almost making her lose her grip on the Shadow King.
