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The formation of Ravis’s men is not perfect, I note when they get closer. Their lines are lopsided, the men themselves tired after a full night’s march.
It’s a small advantage, when considering their sheer numbers. I can’t see them all without turning my head. But I take comfort in our walls. In the defensive position of the palace. Skiro’s castle is built right up against the cliff of mountain at our backs, so at least the advancing men will be forced to attack from the front.
They march until they are only twenty yards away. Then they halt, adjust their formations, until the line is straighter and more uniform.
And then I spot Ravis, parting his men so he and his mount can reach the front. He wears a full suit of armor that gleams without a scratch or nick upon it.
I take a step backward before realizing I’m moving. Then I walk right up to the wall’s edge and hold my ground. I will not be afraid. I will show Ravis that he can’t affect me. I will not give him that power.
“Brother,” Skiro says to the older prince below.
“Skiro,” Ravis replies. “Your gate is closed.”
“You haven’t been invited.”
“It’s to come to a fight, then?”
“If that’s what you choose.”
Ravis scoffs in a distinctly un-princely way. “I offered you peace. I told you what was required. You are choosing this.”
Skiro shakes his head. “I stayed in my borders. You are the one trespassing.”
“You are unfit to rule, and I hear you are also unfit to fight. My spy has told me you’ve barely one hundred men within those walls. Are you really going to force them to die for you?”
“I force them to do nothing. If they choose to fight, it will be for their lands and their families. You’ve come to take that from them.”
Skiro plays his part well, dragging out the conversation as long as possible to allow more civilians to make it through the portal.
But there are still so many filling the courtyard.
Kymora, I note, hangs back, out of sight of the enemy prince. When I look at her, she says, “Never show your hand.”
She doesn’t want Ravis to see her. I wonder if the prince would be less inclined to attack if he knew we had her. He would know and remember her from her time serving their father. She had a reputation long before the king divided the realm.
“Enough,” Ravis says at last. “This is your final chance. Open the gate now or my soldiers will attack.”
“No, this is your last chance. Leave. I have magicians and fortifications aplenty. We are not so helpless as you may think. You advance at your own peril.”
Ravis doesn’t blink, but his eyes turn to me. “Lady smithy, you’re on the wrong side of the wall.”
I shake my head, not giving him the satisfaction of answering.
“I will see you hanged for the stunt you pulled. You remember that I gave you a chance to serve willingly. I am not without mercy.”
“Just basic human decency,” I hiss under my breath.
“Soldiers of Ghadra!” Ravis shouts to his men. “Advance!”
Ravis disappears behind the sea of his men to safety, coward that he is.
And then it’s happening.
We’re under attack.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I’ve learned in my few experiences with fighting that it’s chaotic. Bloody. Loud. Foul-smelling.
