I took a step forward, toward the other downed men.
“No.” Keir stopped me.
“Please, let me…” I pushed against him, trying to move past. I might as well have pushed the wall.
Rafe spoke up. “Doesn’t matter, Warprize. They’re all dead.” He was kneeling by one of the bodies, cleaning his sword. “Strange that they have no armor.”
“An ambush planned in haste.” Keir stood grim, scanning the market area, which remained strangely empty for the time of day. There was no sign of the Watch. “Warprize, do you recognize them?” Keir moved with me as I stepped forward to look at their faces.
They lay in their own blood, the smell of feces and death in the air. None of them looked familiar as Rafe rolled them onto their backs, and they wore nothing to identify themselves with any noble family. Even as I shook my head, Rafe pulled a belt pouch off one, and it spilled bright gold coins onto the cobblestones.
More gold than a mere soldier might see in a lifetime.
Keir growled low in his throat. “Assassins. Xyian, all of them.”
“This isn’t.”
We turned to see Prest standing at the wall, holding the lance in his hands, the tip broken. Black shards lay on the ground at his feet. “Full-tipped when thrown.” Prest’s eyes gleamed as he displayed the feathering on the lance.
Rafe sucked in a breath with a hiss.
Keir’s lips tightened, then he glanced at Rafe. “Gather the horses.” The animals hadn’t wandered far and Rafe moved toward them, making soothing sounds. Keir turned back to Prest. “Wrap that and put it in my quiver. We’re returning to camp.”
“Camp?” I stepped back from the bodies, wrapping my cloak around my body. “But the ceremony…” I let my voice trail off as Keir ignored me, cleaning his swords on one of the dead. Prest was next to me, wrapping the lance in a cloth he’d pulled from his saddlebags. Hadn’t Atira said something about featherings? Their patterns?
It was my turn to suck in a breath. “Who made that lance?”
Prest looked at me, then flicked his eyes to Keir. Rafe came up with the beasts and Keir took the reins.
With a nod, he had Rafe stripping the corpses of gold and weapons. With an equally quick movement he motioned for me to mount. “Up, Warprize.”
“You know who made it.”
Keir’s eyes rested on mine for a moment, softening slightly. He spoke, but not to answer my question. “
Mount. We ride for camp.”
I just stood there, trying to think past the rapid beating of my heart. “The ceremony…”
Keir drilled me with a glare. “Ceremony be damned.”
I went to the horse, and clung to the saddle, trying to will strength into my legs. Trembling, I mounted. “
What does it say if the Warlord runs to camp and hides when attacked by six men?”
Rafe chimed in. “Six men who weren’t very good.”
Prest snorted, but kept his eyes on the street.
Keir didn’t glance at Rafe. “So speaks the man who will be practicing his shield work for the next week.”
Rafe shut his mouth.
Keir grabbed his own horse and swung into the saddle. “It says that the Warlord is no fool.” Prest and Rafe mounted up as well.
“We are not hurt.” I swallowed hard, and fought down my fear. “There are many people gathered for the ceremony. What will they say when the Warlord does not appear?” I moved my horse in the direction of the castle.
Keir grabbed my reins as I passed, bringing my horse to a halt. “Then I will go alone. Prest and Rafe will escort you to camp.”
