Page 37 of War Queen
Noble shit.Soren growled his protest. “Fine,” he said between his teeth.
“Now come the fuck on,” Alexander said to him, and Soren smiled.
They made it to the back of the keep. Despite the skill of the Holy Knights, there was now only a small group of soldiers providing a final defense. The rest of the mercenaries had made for the bridge to meet the Kharavian army coming through.
An elder Mercian councilman clutched a small satchel and cowered behind several men. Yes… Soren remembered this one.Edward.
“Attack!” Edward screamed at the mercenaries as he backed toward the wall. “Think of your souls. You would let this darkness defeat you?”
A knight rushed forward, and Alexander threw his dagger, catching him squarely in the base of the neck. The man fell backward, choking on his blood.
“The tunnels!” Alexander shouted at Soren, and he turned to see another councilman hurrying through a side door and down a stairwell.
Soren took after him. Austair? Alastair? He couldn’t remember, and he didn’t really care. As he caught up with him, the councilman pulled a vial from his pocket.
What—
His eyes widened as the old man quickly pulled off its topper and swallowed the contents.Poison. “No!” Soren shouted, springing forward. He grabbed the councilman by his robes, holding him against the wall, but within moments, foam sprang from the man’s mouth, and his legs gave out from under him. There was nothing Soren could do, and he let the dying man sink to the ground.
Another one dead.Soren swore.
He took the stairs back to the keep, cursing himself again. Alexander would be angry with him for losing another councilman, and as much as he disagreed with the Bear, he respected what he wanted.
By the time he made it back, the Kharavian soldiers had bound the rest of the councilmen and were escorting them from the keep. Alexander stood at the window, looking out. Soren could hear cheering down below, in what could only be the calls of triumph in winning back the North.Good, it would soften his message.
“Unfortunate news,” Soren said as he stepped back through the doorway. “Or you could look at it optimistically—you have one less councilman to hang.”
But as Alexander turned, Soren’s eyes locked on him and on the stream of blood pouring down the front of the Bear’s armor.
Soren stopped in his step.
It was too much blood.
Alexander swayed, and Soren lunged forward to catch him.
“What happened?” he demanded.
Alexander scoffed. “Before or after I caught a blade to the stomach?”
“Damn you, man, this isn’t a joke.” He pulled the Bear’s arm over his shoulder to support him. “We need to get you to the healer.”
Alexander shook his head. “No, Destroyer,” he said, breathing heavily. “This is my end.”
The Bear’s words knifed him. “If you say that again, I’ll end you myself.” Soren pulled him toward the stair.
Alexander grunted in pain. “I always thought you’d be the one to do it.”
“There’s still time,” Soren cut back. “Hold yourself together.” Where was Salara? He set his eyes on a nearby soldier. “Get Salara!” The soldier darted away.
Soren started forward again, but Alexander pulled him back.
“Soren,” he gasped. “Stop.”
There was a finality to his tone. The way he said his name—no,no,no. Soren shook his head. “You can’t die now, Bear. Not now.”
Alexander grew heavier as he weakened. “Let me down,” he said.
Soren sank slowly to his knees, lowering the justice to the floor. He shifted behind him, holding him upright. “You have to hold on,” Soren said. If he could just hold on…
