Read Online Changer of Days by Alma Alexander - Free Book Online Page A

Kieran stood very still for a moment, his hand dropping to his side; then his fingers closed into a white-knuckled grip on the haft of his dagger. When he turned to face the expectant men waiting in the darkness behind, the power of his resolve was about him like a bright cloak, and they had to choke down the impulse to raise what would, for all of Kieran’s determination and courage, be a decidedly premature cheer.
    “We’ll wait for moonrise,” Kieran said tightly. “Then we go. We must be in place when they come.”
    More waiting; but this time they were coiled springs, waiting only for the hour of their release. When the hour Kieran had appointed came, they filed out of the stables, ten shadows, ten intruders trespassing uninvited into the heart of Sif Kir Hama’s realm, waiting to snatch the greatest treasure in his keep. Stepping softly across the cobbles of inner courtyards, keeping to the edges where the shadows were deepest and snow still lingered in dirty gray piles against damp stone walls, Kieran stole a moment to wonder with grim amusement if Sif, tossing restlessly in the grip of his dreams somewhere in the South, knew just what would be happening in his castle the next morning.
    They found their way to the northern battlements without meeting another living soul, the castle sleeping quietly around them, sunk in the innocent dreams that come in the darkness before dawn. The ten men waited wakeful, stoically enduring the bitter cold of the mountain night, which proved winter was with them still and spring only a promise of dimly remembered warmth. It wasn’t the first time they had waited in cold darkness for the dawn. They had learned to bring themselves into a state of almost suspended animation, keeping themselves alert in anticipation of what was to come, ready for action at a whispered word, yet able to stand like a statue carved of stone until that whisper came. And it came not long after dawn broke and the pale morning sun touched the mountains beyond the battlements with a rim of luminous gold.
    They walked warily when they appeared, the ten guards Melsyr had promised: three in the van, naked swords at the ready, eyes hooded and watchful; two on either side, in single file, forming two sides of a square which was completed by the three bringing up the rear. Inside this living square walked…but there were two cloaked figures, hoods pulled forward to hide their features.
    It took Kieran a precious second to realize who the second figure must be. Dear Gods. It’s Senena.
    But it was all set, and his arm had dropped in the pre-arranged signal before the thought had a chance to properly cross his mind. And then there was no more time to think, only to call out a swift warning to Adamo, who waited just behind him with his sword naked in his hand. “The other is Sif’s queen! Beware!”
    But Charo had already taken out one of the rear guards, soundlessly, and pirouetted with a kind of deadly grace to spit another on the point of his blade even as the man turned, startled, to face him. The four on the sides had a man each to take care of them, but Charo had broken an instant too soon. The guards didn’t have the time to yell for reinforcements, but the ring of steel on steel in the silence of the mountain dawn as Sif’s men turned to defend themselves was clarion enough.
    Sloppy, thought Kieran grimly, even as he beat aside the blade of his own opponent and left his dagger in the man’s exposed throat. We had all the advantages. It should have been over quietly, quickly. He lifted his eyes and his blood ran cold.
    Fodrun had taken the stairs two at a time, leading not only the four remaining guards Melsyr had promised but another ten. Three or four showed signs of being summoned hastily, protected with leather vests instead of light guardsman’s armor and armed with sturdy quarterstaffs rather than steel, but the rest were grimly businesslike. It was obvious they would kill where they had to but