Arrows of Promise (Kingmakers Book 2) (33 page)

The day of the coronation ceremony finally dawned, and they
all got up early—the girls so they had time to do something with their hair,
the men so they could actually use the mirror to shave without having to
compete with the girls. Edvard, as part of the preparation for the ceremony,
was not allowed to eat that morning and he left before noon to go and perform
the necessary cleansing rituals. Technically, they were supposed to wait an
hour before going over as well, but all of them were ready so they voted to go
ahead and see if they could help set up anything. The priests were admitted
novices when it came to ceremonies, after all. It wouldn’t hurt to double check
that everything was in place before Ingrid and Skadi Covington joined them.

When they arrived at the temple, it was immaculately clean,
with decorations ringing the door and interior. Ribbons were tied around the
columns in front, vases lined the stairs, overflowing with colorful bouquets.
Stepping inside, she saw that chairs had been added to the center of the room,
which was good as she understood the ceremony took a full hour to complete.
Ribbons draped along the ceiling here, too, vases found in different corners
with flowers. The altar had one long banner with the Estole coat of arms.  It
looked nice enough but it didn’t quite match with Ashlynn’s descriptions. Or
maybe things had been changed because the priests had not been able to lay
hands on everything they wanted to?

Deciding not to say anything, she sat where Ash indicated,
carefully keeping track of her skirt hem and making sure that it wasn’t getting
in anyone’s way. The dark green dress had turned out to be rather pretty. Odds
were she wouldn’t have many opportunities to wear it, but she’d like to keep it
as pristine as she could.

Aside from the dress, she had a few—other—things to keep
track of as well. She had to sit in a certain way to make sure that nothing
pinched or, worse, clanged. After all, she was supposed to be here completely
unarmed. It wouldn’t do to give the game away with a careless motion.

Riana was so preoccupied getting settled that she didn’t at
first notice Ash’s distraction until it became unease. Then her head came up.
“Ash?”

“Where are all of the priests?” Ash said slowly, eyes roving
about the front of the room. “Shouldn’t they have one of them escorting us in?”

As if his words had conjured the man, Priest Graff popped
out of the back hallway. He did a quick headcount, nodded in satisfaction, then
made for the front door with a quick stride. Closing it firmly, he flashed them
a quick smile and said, “Just a brief delay, everyone, bear with us.” As
quickly as he had appeared he disappeared back into the hallway and out of
sight.

Riana’s eyebrows climbed into her hairline. “Something has
gone wrong, I take it.”

“Certainly looks that way,” Ash agreed, the frown on his
face not faltering.

Broden stirred uneasily. There was this nagging sense of
wrongness about the place and while he could not put his finger on it, it was
there regardless.

Leaning against his shoulder, Ashlynn tilted her head up and
whispered, “I realize the clothes are more formal than what you’re used to
wearing, but stop fidgeting.”

“It no’ be that, lass,” he denied. Well, alright, it was
partially that but not the main reason. “There be a strange feeling to the air
I do no’ like. Does naught seem amiss to ye?”

She frowned then sat back and really looked around. “Now
that you say it, it seems strange that all three priests are back there. There
should be one up here preparing to officiate. And why aren’t the other lords
here attending? I know Argent went ahead of us but I thought the rest were
right behind us.”

That. That was what was bothering him. The room was too
empty. There should be more people than were seated here. All of the provosts
were in attendance, of course, but half the reason for the ceremony to happen
now was to have the lords and lady of Iysh as witnesses to it.

And where was Edvard? He had gone ahead of them in order to
perform some cleansing rite or another, but he was supposed to be ready by now.
Right?

Broden could thank his survival instincts for being alive
this long. He never doubted them. Sometimes his instincts were off, sometimes
he looked a mite foolish, but he would rather be wrong than to not act and bear
the consequences of it. So he said to Ashlynn, “I think it best I go check on
yon king. Ye—”

From the back of the temple there was an outraged and pained
yell. Broden recognized the voice instantly. Edvard’s. He was on his feet and
moving before the thought fully processed in his brain that this was a very
cleverly disguised assassination attempt and nothing more.

Everyone else was on their feet at the same time but Ash was
snapping out commands. “Everyone behind me and Riana! Ashlynn, Broden, go help
Edvard!”

No one had come in armed, in fact they had specifically been
told this was a sacred ceremony and to
not
bring weapons. Ashlynn and
Ash were of course always in touch with their magic, they were never without a
means to fight, but Riana was bare as a babe. He’d snuck one dagger in, under
his coat, and he reached for it while praying that it would be enough to fight
off assassins with.

“Da!”

He spun at the call and spotted two daggers in his
daughter’s hands. She gave a feinted toss, making sure that he was watching,
before throwing one in his direction in a controlled arc. He caught it handily
and was grateful even if it was a little on the small side. Now where had she
gotten these? He highly doubted assassins would have left them just lying about.
Shaking his head, he put the question aside for later, and ducked into the
hallway. Ashlynn had not paused to wait for him, but was running frantically
forward, trying to reach her brother.

Someone had beaten them there, though.

Argent was facing off Priest Graff, or as he should be
known, the fake priest that was actually an assassin. Broden had a split second
of chagrin for not realizing the man’s true nature. They had blindly trusted
Graff because of his clerical robes. Why had they done that? Desperation? It
seemed a poor excuse now.

The hallways were narrow and confined, but, in spite of
that, Gwydion Argent was putting up a whale of a fight. He had not followed
orders either because he had a long dagger in one hand and a candlestick in the
other. There was sweat pouring down his temples and a berserker grin on his
face. He must have either heard their approach or caught it out of the corner
of his eye as he shouted, “He’s in the room! Injured! GO!”

Ashlynn went, slipping past the fighting fake-priest and
Argent. Broden stopped in the doorway, guarding her and Edvard from anything
that might make it through, and watched Argent fight like a veteran soldier.
Had not someone said that he was the grandson of a famous knight? Fighting
prowess must run in the family.

There was a horrified gasp before Ashlynn said shakily,
“Edvard.”

“I’ll survive,” Edvard responded, but his voice sounded wan.
“A healing spell or three would be quite welcome.”

“Hush, I have to clean this out first.”

Broden did not dare take his eyes off the fight in front of
him but he did call back, “How bad be it?”

“They got me right in the shoulder before I realized what
was happening,” Edvard explained and then hissed. “Ashlynn, that stings
something awful.”

“Be still,” she responded, not in the least bit sympathetic.
“At this angle, they nearly got your neck.”

Argent let out a roar before springing forward, candlestick
being treated like a shield to knock his opponent’s short sword away, and then
his dagger darted forward with pinpoint accuracy. The assassin-priest went down
with a near silent gasp, crumpling to the floor like discarded clothes. Argent
breathed in deep, then looked around at Broden, a fierce smile on his face.
“The man was skilled.”

“He be that,” Broden agreed in grudging admiration. He was
not a master at swordplay, so he could not offer any criticisms, but he knew
two skilled fighters when he saw them in action. A part of him was rather glad
that it was Argent that had faced Graff as he was not sure the two daggers in his
hands would have been enough to defeat the assassin.

From the front of the temple there was a clamor of sound and
a great deal of yelling. Broden’s eyes darted in that direction even though
stone blocked his view.

“I’ll go,” Argent stated, already sprinting that direction.

Broden watched his back retreat and thought,
The man be
growing on me
.

Edvard gasped. “Ashlynn, dearest, not so tightly
please
.”

“I have to stop the bleeding. Spells can only do so much in
this situation.” She lifted the necklace at her neck and said urgently,
“Master. Master, answer me. Master!”

“
I heard you the first two times, no need to yell. What?”

“Assassins are in the temple. We’re under attack. Where are
you?”

Gerrard swore loud and long. “
The two boats we were going
to use this morning sprang leaks, so we had to stop and fix them. That delayed
me, and I’m just now reaching Estole’s docks. I’ll be there as quickly as I
can. Can you fend them off?”

“Most of us aren’t armed. Argent was, he protected Edvard,
but it’s basically me and Ash. Oh, and Riana and Broden snuck in a few daggers
somehow, so our partners are armed at least.”

“
Sit tight. I’m bringing more of the guard with me.”

Ashlynn dropped the necklace and looked up at Broden. For
the first time since the day he had met her, he saw true fear in her face. “How
many men are we fighting against in here?”

“Do no’ know,” he admitted sourly. He was torn, truly torn,
in which direction to go. Stay here, protect her and the king? Go back to the
main room, help fight off the others? “They must have locked the doors, though.
Our guard outside can no’ get in.”  

It was Edvard that decided the matter. “Ashlynn, put up one
of your wards around this room and leave me here. You and Broden are two of the
few that can fight. You have to get back out there, not babysit me.”

She did not like it but saw the wisdom in it. Pushing Broden
out of the doorway, she put up a ward so quickly that the words seemed to meld
into each other as she spoke them. Broden had heard her do this spell often
enough that he knew the words and was moving before the last syllable left her
lips.

They regained the main room and paused in the doorway long
enough to get a grasp of what was going on. Broden’s heart sank as he realized
that they weren’t dealing with normal assassins—there were two
wizard-assassins, both of them fighting with Ash. Ash had somehow managed to
get the noncombatants up between two of the altars and put a ward up so that
they could not be harmed. It left him, Riana, and Argent out and fighting.

Riana whizzed a small dagger at one wizard-assassin, forcing
the man to duck, which let Ash get a quick spell off, grazing the man’s head.
It forced a retreat and gave him the breathing room he needed to deal with the
other’s attack.

Ashlynn’s magic flared out like a bonfire cloaking her, and
she stalked forward, heading for the wizard that had retreated. Broden was at
her side, palming both daggers and wishing he had brought his bow.

Like a raging goddess of war, Ashlynn descended on the man
with spells flinging fast and furious, forcing him to put up shield after
shield or get fried. Broden danced around to the man’s blind side and flung a
dagger, but at the last second, he erected a shield that bounced the weapon
away. Broden’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He could do that?! As Ashlynn
had explained it, putting up a weapon’s shield and a magical shield at the same
time was impossible. So the assassin would have had to drop his magical shield,
raise a weapon’s shield long enough to block the attack, and then raise another
magical shield to deal with Ashlynn all within split seconds.

Well. The man was not a professional assassin for nothing.

But that meant that even if Broden timed this carefully he
might not be able to pierce through, and he only had one dagger left. If the
man came after him, he would be hard pressed to fight back. Bare-handed
wrestling did not seem the best choice with this particular opponent.

Riana noticed his situation and called, “Da! Catch!”

He turned with one hand reaching out, only half-surprised by
the dagger she tossed him. This one had a bit more size to it than the other
one, which he was grateful to see. Spinning back around, he stepped into
Ashlynn’s shield, letting it protect him from the magical attack the assassin
had unleashed.

Ashlynn was panting for breath, but the fire had not gone
out in her eyes, so she was not anywhere near to being done yet. She reached
behind her, found Broden’s ribs, and gave two hard taps before stepping forward
and unleashing a wind storm that threatened to bring the rafters down on their
heads.

He knew the signal. It was one they had developed in the
city, when they wanted to get the drop on a criminal. She would unleash two
attacks and then back off. It was his job to take advantage of the opening she
gave him and dart forward. He lifted up onto the balls of his feet and prepared
himself to launch forward.

Immediately after the wind storm was a burst of magical
power that felt like it sucked all of the air right out of the room. The wizard
gasped on his breath, unable to quite form the words he needed, and that was
when Broden moved. He darted ahead with no fear, no caution, slamming into the
other man with both daggers burying themselves into his chest.

The assassin was dead before he hit the ground, eyes rolled
into his head, not even a gasp of pain to signal his death.

Broden stepped back, breathing hard, and looked behind him.
“Ashlynn?”

“Good,” she assured him, also breathing hard, bracing her
hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

Turning, he looked at the rest of the room. Riana and Ash
had dealt with their assassin at practically the same time, apparently. Ash was
bending over a wounded Argent, who was nursing a bleeding leg and biting his
lower lip to keep from crying out at the pain. Riana noticed his gaze and
smirked at him. “Stupid of them, to assume we would all obey.”

“Apparently,” Broden drawled and inwardly busted with pride
that she was his little girl. There were days it was hard to contain it.

Gerrard burst through the main doors in that moment with at
least a dozen guards hot on his heels. He took in the scene with wide eyes and
demanded, “Is everyone alright?”

“A few injured,” Ashlynn answered, straightening. “Edvard
being one of them. Tant, split up into two teams, one sweeping the outside
grounds, one sweeping the inside. I think we got them all but I want to be
sure.”

Tant snapped out a salute before obeying orders.

“Master, come with me to heal Edvard,” Ashlynn directed,
already striding for the back room. “Unless Ash needs help?”

Ash waved his sister onward. “This is minor, he’ll be back
on his feet in two days.”

Broden decided to take a moment and satisfy his curiosity.
Nothing dangerous was left in this temple, he felt it, and there were enough
armed and trained people here to take care of it if he were wrong. “Daughter.”

She gave him an inquiring, ‘
Aye?’
expression.

“Daggers?”

“I snuck in a few,” she admitted as if he did not already
know that.

“A few,” Ash snorted, hands still busy bandaging Argent’s
leg. “She handed you four, she handed Argent…two?”

“Two,” Argent confirmed, grimacing. “Not that tight,
Fallbright.”

“It has to be that tight to stop the bleeding. Anyway, and I
lost track of how many daggers she herself used. She was flinging them left,
right, and center like they were arrows and not knives.” Ash sat back on his
heels and regarded her with frank amazement. “Just where did you
put
them all?”

Riana put a demure hand on her chest and looked away shyly.
“Oh. A lass has her ways.”

The family still sitting in Ash’s ward started laughing at
this.

“In other words,” Ash translated to Broden, “she’s never
going to tell me.”

“She might not,” Bria told him, still giggling, “but I was
watching her and I think I figured it out. It was quite clever. Ash, can you
let us out yet?”

“Not just yet. I want to make sure that we didn’t miss
anyone. Right now you’re very safe in that ward and I’d rather not take
chances.”

Gwen reached out to tug on Ash only to flinch when her hand
touched his magic. “I don’t like this. It’s icky.”