Page 31 of War Queen
The Northman shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just what I was told.”
“By the lord justice?”
“Yes,” the Northman said nervously.
Mikael frowned. “And how does that get us to the castle?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Whatdoyou know about the castle?” Soren growled impatiently.
“I’ve never even been in the castle. So nothing.”
Soren forced himself to not dagger the man in the throat as he ripped an annoyed gaze toward Mikael.
Mikael cast his eyes out across the channel and over the castle, thinking. “We’ll go to the side streets,” he said finally.
“You can’t be serious,” Soren hissed. “Does a back alley not scream ‘trap’ to you?”
“We’ll go,” Mikael said again.
Soren clutched the messenger by the collar of his jacket. “If you’re lying—”
“I know, you’ll kill me,” he finished quickly.
“No,” Soren snarled. “You’ll wish I would’ve killed you.” He shoved the man forward, and they followed him into the dark.
The Narrows were just as their name implied—narrow market streets made even smaller by the covered merchant stalls. The men weaved in between the stations and carts, taking cover from shadow to shadow.
The messenger walked down the center. Like an idiot.
When he reached the end, he stopped.
They all stopped.
Soren scanned the street. All was quiet. They lifted their eyes to rooftops, searching for movement. But there was nothing. Soren looked at Mikael, who only looked back at him. They waited.
“We’re here!” the man called.
Soren winced and gritted his teeth again. He’d kill him. This was definitely a trap.
A side door swung open from the end building, and Northmen poured out. The Kharavian soldiers fell back, surrounding Mikael, and Soren brought up his axe to strike.
“Itisa trap,” Mikael hissed beside him.
But then Soren stopped. His eyes trailed the person who stepped out behind the Northmen, and he snorted as he shook his head. He knew that frigid grace. “No. It’s not. It’s the grandmother.”
“Destroyer,” the foul woman said icily as she stood in the center of the street. “What took you so long?”
Irritation rippled through him. “We marched the entire Kharavian army across the Tribelands and through the North, in just over two weeks’ time.”
“Did anyone see you?”
Was she serious? “Of course not.”Insulting. Curse the North gods, he hated this woman.
Her gaze moved past him to Mikael, and she stiffened. “Shadow King,” she said. It was the first time they’d met.
“Lady Catherine,” Mikael greeted her back, as politely as Soren had ever heard him speak—trying to make a good impression, no doubt.
