Page 46 of Memory of Ashes

She leaned against Ruven and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Stay alive out there.”

*

The noise of the warriors preparing for battle disturbed her sleep. The clang of metal and swords being sharpened mingled with the men’s false bravado. She couldn’t bring herself to get up and watch more bloodshed.

Danae had already left early to prepare. Being a fire mage made her invaluable to the army. Amelia hoped she’d see her again.

She forced herself to leave the tent.

The camp buzzed with activity. Warriors were lining up, ready to march down the hill. She spotted Casyl working his way through the camp, talking to the men, shouting orders. He glanced her way briefly.

The king came out of his tent decked in silver armour and a bright purple cloak. His ornate helmet was held by a servant who followed behind. Casyl looked bland in comparison.

Casyl, Tharos, and the king readied themselves and mounted their horses.

The king rode to the front of the army and gave a speech. The men cheered for their leader and banged their weapons against their breastplates.

The enemy was lining up. There was no cheering. Were they standing in silence, awaiting their fate, or praying to their god?

The warriors of her camp began to march forward, led by Casyl and Tharos. Ruven wasn’t far behind. The king stayed further back with his personal guards, watching as the men marched by. Right at the back came the covered cage, wheeled by a group of men. They wheeled it partway down the hill and left it there.

Amelia stood near the edge of the camp with some of the camp guards. The king turned to her and smiled. Her skin crawled.

The soldiers from the enemy camp marched down their hill.

Casyl sounded the signal to engage, and they charged. The enemy did the same, and she watched, mesmerised, as both war bands clashed at the bottom of the valley.

She covered her ears at the noise. Metal clashed against metal, and men shouted war cries that were soon replaced with screams of pain.

She’d seen fighting when she’d been in the enemy’s camp, but there had been fewer men, and it had been dark. Seeing it in broad daylight with thousands of men was overwhelming, but she couldn’t look away.

Casyl was visible in the distance. His distinctive winged helmet shone, catching the light, along with his sword as he stabbed and slashed his way through the field. He was just as dangerous without a weapon, but now he was deadly. He rode across the field, wielding his sword as though he were Death himself.

The flash of Casyl’s winged helmet vanished beneath the crush of bodies. She searched for it and found nothing. What would happen to her if he died?

The enemy had fewer men, but they still had a few tricks left.

In the distance, grey shapes streamed from the enemy camp into the valley below.

At that moment, she wished she had fae vision.

“What are those?” one guard beside her asked.

The king laughed from his mount. “They think that will save them? Guards, release the Hakkari.”

Amelia was finally about to see what he’d been keeping in the cage. She stared at it, forgetting the battle.

Five men dragged the cover from the cage. She still couldn’t see what was inside. The cage was built from metal sheets with small holes, as if they feared bars wouldn’t be enough.

Two of the king’s personal guards approached the cage and drew back the bolts. The door swung open with a creak.

Nothing happened.

She held her breath, waiting.

One guard peered inside. Suddenly, something burst from the cage, impaling him with its giant horn.