Kings: Chaos Book 5.5 (9 page)

With a howl of rage, Drake rushed at the group. The remaining
daoine
sídhe
ran, too, whooping war cries. The other soldiers were forced to hold off more traitors on the other end of the corridor. Drake slashed and spun, barely feeling his own injuries as he showed the traitors what a king was made of. He would kill them all.

A song of victory filtered up the stairs, and it bolstered the traitors enough to push back the king’s men. Dymphna reached Drake’s side, her eyes filled with bloodlust and fury. She nodded at him, and they dove into the traitorous pack, slicing, wounding, and eventually killing them all. Drake leaned against the wall, panting.

Dymphna wiped sweat from her brow. “We need an escape route. For you and the queen.”

“They’ve blocked every conceivable route,” a tiny scout said. She had already volunteered to risk her life to check for viable exits before meeting them outside Sorcha’s room.

“We need to do
something
.”

“We’ll win this,” Drake said stubbornly.

“Can’t you hear them?” a
daoine
sídhe
asked. “They already think they’ve won.”

“Then we’ll just have to prove them wrong,” Drake insisted.

The scout rushed to the window and looked outside. “They’re burning bodies out there.” She flinched and squeezed her eyes shut as screams filled the air. “Not just bodies. Some are alive.” She lifted her bow and shot the remainder of her arrows outside.

Drake swore under his breath.
Donella
had prepared for this. “We’re in a good position. They can’t attack us at full strength in narrow hallways.”

Dymphna squeezed his shoulder. “Drake, this is hopeless. The castle is lost. We need to find a way to run. You can escape to Cara’s castle, or even Brendan’s. They’ll give you shelter.”

“How can I leave the others here who are fighting in my name?” Drake asked. “How can I run while they’re being burned alive? The other courts may avenge us, but for now, we’re on our own. We are lost.”

Shouts came from nearby—enemies hunting them down. And when the footsteps began on the stairs, bringing with them the clinking sounds of well-armoured soldiers, Drake’s heart sank.

“We’re doomed,” a soldier said. “They’ll kill us all.”

Drake looked up at Dymphna with regret. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t even be here. Your daughter…”

“
Eithne
is in good hands,” she said firmly, her eyes glassy with emotion. “I’m in exactly the right place. It was an honour fighting by your side, Drake. You’ll be remembered for sealing the rift, I guarantee you that.”

No, he would be remembered as the weak solitary king who lost his castle in a single morning.

“This is the end,” he said. “This is our last day.”

“Then at least we’ll go out fighting,” she replied.

And they stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the end.

Chapter Seven

Brendan

Brendan stretched out his legs as best he could. For “giants,” the
daoine
sídhe
had created severely cramped living quarters. He looked at his soldiers.
Alyss
and
Pól
were in the middle of an argument about exactly how many days they had been at sea. Brendan had lost count himself. Bran looked paler than usual, his normal hyper-activity subdued by the injury he had suffered on the boat.

Eira
came running into the hut, her eyes bright with excitement. “I saw it! I saw your ship!”

Brendan breathed a sigh of relief. Cara was wrong. Yvette could be trusted.

“It didn’t leave?” Bran asked.

“Of course not. They want to marry themselves off to the king,”
Alyss
said with a snort.

“Enough,” Brendan said gently. “You are sure you saw our ship?”

The young girl looked puzzled by the exchange. “Yes, they’re sailing along the coast, likely waiting for a sign from you.”

“And will your people be ready to lead us to the First Tree today?”

She nodded vehemently. “May I come? The elder won’t let me, but if you said something…”

“I have a far more important job for you,” Brendan said gravely. “But it’s dangerous, so if you’re—”

“I’ll do it,” she said instantly. “I can do it.”

Brendan allowed himself a smile. Unlike the rest of the
daoine
sídhe
, on that island and back home, she was young and eager, not yet as world-weary. “I need you to signal to the boat near a safe place for them to anchor and wait for us. Then you’ll likely have to lead us there with the Fir
Bolg
on our tails. Can you do this?”

She nodded slowly. “I know everywhere. They don’t like me to explore, but I need to. I can do this.” Her face fell. “You’re not going to let me come with you on the boat, are you?”

“This is your home.”

She looked around the stone hut and sighed. “I wish it wasn’t.”

“One day, you’ll explore the world,” he said. “But not on the first boat. Not when it’s so dangerous to travel.” He shook her hand. “But may we meet again on a different land.”

Satisfied, she left.

“I can’t wait to go home,” Bran said. “I’m starving.”

Pól
unsheathed his sword to maintain the blade. “They don’t overfeed us.”

“They don’t overfeed themselves,” Brendan said. “It’s a pity we can’t take all of them with us.”

“It’s enough that we’re taking that elder with us,”
Alyss
said. “Yes, it’s great that she’ll take care of the First Tree, but she’s bringing with her all of that nonsense about gods and the like.” She looked at him quizzically. “None of it is true, is it?”

“I don’t follow her doctrine, but we can’t judge her for believing something different to us,” Brendan murmured. When they all gave him an exasperated look, he shrugged. “What? I’ve changed.” Yes, he had outlawed the worship of Brighid in part because he considered it outdated and dangerous, but now he wanted his people to have the comfort they so desperately sought.

“What if we bring back the trees and the others haven’t found the stone?”
Pól
asked.

Bran snorted. “I will bet anything that Cara, I mean the Chaos Queen, will find it.”

“She does have a knack,” Brendan said with a smile. When
Alyss
gave him a knowing look, he hurriedly cleared his throat. “We’ll simply search for it ourselves. There are only a couple of places it could be. The stone of destiny will be found.”

“It’s in
Inis
Fáil
,”
Dafina
said from the doorway. “I’m sorry to overhear your conversation.”

“You know of the legendary treasures?” Bran asked.

The elder looked astonished. “Know of them? Our ancestors once guarded one of them.”

Bran frowned. “Which one?”

“The spear.” Her eyes turned sad. “But it disappeared.”

“We have the spear,” Brendan said. “I mean, it’s in my land.”

“It’s safe.”
Dafina’s
eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Brendan unsheathed his sword. “And this is the sword of victory.”

“That was once hidden in
Eriu
,” she said, looking as if she might faint.

“Then where’s the last one?” Brendan asked. “Where is Dagda’s cup?”

“
Manannán
hid the cup under the sea so nobody could ever again steal immortality.”

There went Cara’s ideas of using all four treasures against the god of Chaos.

“My people will be uplifted to discover the spear is safe.”
Dafina
stretched out her arms. “I came to tell you we are prepared to leave. Are you all ready?”

“Yes,” Brendan said as the others jumped to their feet. “And we thank you for your kindness.”

“Your blight may well become ours someday. It’s no kindness.”

They followed her out of the hut and into the main area where a group of
daoine
sídhe
had already gathered. A small group had been camouflaged.

“This is
Aneurin
,”
Dafina
said, introducing them to a large, broad-shouldered male with no markings or stains. “He’s our greatest warrior, and he will be in charge today.”

Aneurin
faced Brendan, eye-to-eye as though taking his measure. “This will be difficult.”

“We wouldn’t know what to do with a simple task,” Brendan replied.

Aneurin
nodded. “We’re safe in this area. There’s little here for the fir
bolg
to be interested in. And the trees are high up on a steep mountain. We have a route that the fir
bolg
are too large to take, and one or two people can easily slip up and down to tend to the trees there. But a large group of us? And also taking trees with us? That’s a much more difficult job. The fir
bolg
will be interested in what we’re doing, more will come, and they’ll try to follow us.”

“What do you need from us?”

“My people will get you your trees,”
Aneurin
promised, “as long as you can distract the fir
bolg
long enough for them to get out of plain sight.”

“We confront the fir
bolg
,” Brendan said.

“No,”
Aneurin
said hurriedly. “Battles rarely end well. You’re taking the biggest risk, so I’ll be accompanying you. With my help, you’ll hopefully remain out of their reach. We must lure the fir
bolg
, make them think we have something they want. Just your appearance will intrigue them, and they will follow. We must lead them on a merry chase and finally make it back to your ship. My daughter told me the task you set for her.” He lowered his voice. “And I thank you for it.”

Brendan nodded. “We serve as a distraction long enough for the trees to get to the ship, and then we follow. It doesn’t sound complicated.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen a fir
bolg
,”
Aneurin
said with a smile like
Eira’s
. “They cause destruction, even without meaning to. Our spoken stories, the ones that come from our ancestors, tell us that they eventually came here after destroying their own land, although some stories infer they were given this land after a great service. Either way, the fir
bolg
are not to be taken lightly.”

“What should we watch out for?” Bran asked.

Aneurin’s
jaws tightened. “Avoid staying out of their reach, mostly. They move slowly, but their strides are long. They carry massive slings with which they fling large rocks. They’re strong enough to throw boulders with their own hands, but the slings move the rocks farther along. If you’re hit, we leave you behind. Do you all understand?”

Brendan looked at his companions who all nodded. “We understand the risks.”

“Perhaps you don’t. They were built to hunt and destroy. Stay far enough away, and they may forget they ever saw you, but if you get close, you could trigger a frenzy in them.”

“A frenzy?”
Alyss
said scornfully.

“When the frenzy hits, their muscles bulge, their eyes turn red, and they become unstoppable. They’ll hunt to the point of their own death. Even if the fir
bolg
doesn’t stone you to death, if one gets their hands on you, they’ll literally tear your body apart. We are nothing compared to them, and you’ve said our people are the champions of your land. If that doesn’t convince you, then nothing will. They carry sacks on their hips, and our elders say they like to take the remains of their victims and shove them in the bags to eat later.” He folded his arms. “Are you still certain you want to do this?”

Brendan straightened, offended by the question. “My companions may do as they wish, but while I hold the sword of victory, I cannot fail. And I can’t go home without those trees. Our land is depending on us. I couldn’t live with not trying. I’d rather die failing.”

“Then we’ll leave immediately,”
Aneurin
said. “We’ll travel with the others for a time, and then break away when necessary.” His lips twitched. “I hope you can run fast.”

Brendan mentally thanked Cara for provoking his interest in the activity.

They left soon after, traversing the narrow, claustrophobic tunnels again. Bran hummed under his breath without realising it, which amused Brendan.

“This is your chance to be a hero,” Brendan said, trying to keep the mood light. “And you’re preparing for it by singing human songs.”

“I was not,” Bran hissed back.

Brendan teased Bran out of his fear by the time they reached the surface. The sky was startlingly blue, and it surprised Brendan how hard it was to look in the light. It took his people a few minutes to adjust.

“This way,”
Aneurin
said, and they all set off in small groups, spread out in case they had to run.

Brendan and Bran stayed close to each other. The heat was oppressive, and Brendan’s shirt was soon damp with sweat. They travelled away from the underground mounds and toward a cliff face where they were forced to climb.

“We’re almost at fir
bolg
territory,”
Aneurin
said, annoyingly capable of breathing normally despite the exertion. “Be ready at any moment.”

And then they reached the peak, and it was as though they had entered another land. Brendan gazed across the horizon at a sun-scorched plain that was pitted with holes. A strange rumbling sound seemed to attack from all sides.

“What happened here?”
Pól
asked.

“This was once a forest, but the fir
bolg
destroyed it,”
Aneurin
explained. “They say the First Trees gave life to the world, and if they die, we all die with them. That’s why we keep some where the giants can’t reach.”

“Why have they done this?”
Alyss
whispered. “This desolation is disturbing.”

“Not everything they do has a purpose.”
Aneurin
shrugged. “These creatures sleep restlessly, and that’s how the holes are made. They upset the earth as they toss and turn. Even if they didn’t want to, they’d destroy by accident. It’s quiet now. This is the time of day they like to slumber, but they’re easily disturbed.”