Read Online The Queen of Thieves: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders - Free Book Online Page A

in her
arms, right to the heart of a trap.
     
    *
     

 
    Chapter
Twenty-One
     
    'Asram,' said Rena. 'Lower your
bow. We cannot fight.'
                'I swore I would
protect you with my life,' said the huntsman. His teeth were gritted as he
spoke. Rena could hear the taut bow string, the shuffling of her own feet, the
snow beginning to fall...and through it all the babe screamed.
                She did not know why,
but in her terror it was as though she had finally come alive.
                Rena almost laughed,
so terrified was she, and yet at the same time feeling like she was awake to
the world in a way she never had been - not even in Tarn's arms.
                But she had no
mythical power. She had no magic. There was no magic, not for a witch such as
her.
                She was impotent, and
the soldiers were coming. Coming closer all the time. She could see their
features, now, alien, harsh...terrible. The net was closing. Not one of the
creatures called out. They did not need to. Their intent was clear. Asram, Rena
and her baby would all go on the pyre, and no one would ever know what happened
to them.
                Yet, she felt some
power making her heart sing, and tears rolled down her face. She did not know
why. There was no understanding it. She stared at her death and cried and
realised she was laughing, too.  
                She scanned the faces
of the approaching soldiers, looking for some hint of mercy and seeing none.
She threw out a prayer, in her head, to all the gods, to the one known as
Caeus...but nothing happened. There was no stroke of lightning, no ball of fire
or storm or earthquake. And still she laughed. Caeus was not coming.
                She thought perhaps
she had gone mad in the instant that the enemy came from the forest.
                Magic...this was how
the village was taken. She understood it now - the mages of the Hierarchy were
somehow messing with her mind, making it impossible for her to flee.
                She looked at Asram.
The magic was affecting him differently. His jaw was clenched tight, the
muscles bunched under his thick beard. He fought it, and she was suddenly in
awe of him, this man with no magic at all, fighting until the end.
                But there was no
hope, was there? They couldn't fight.
                She felt the snow
landing and melting on her face. She could feel its weight in her hair. She
could feel the knots in her hair.
                Acutely aware of
everything...helpless still.
                Asram's bow remained
taut - arrow nestled alongside his cheek, ignoring her plea. He swung the bow
this way and that, as though unsure where to aim. Though Rena knew the truth of
it - not even the man who had saved her single handed from the assassins that
had killed her mother could take on an army on his own.
                But she knew he
wanted to go down fighting. What for, though? What for? She, Tarn and Asram
were as good as dead.
                That's the magic
talking , said a voice she didn't recognise. A woman's voice. Power in every
word.
                'Lower your bow,'
Rena said again. Her voice sounded strange to her...confident. Commanding.
                That's it, girl
child. Fight it. Fight the despair.
                The voice
sounded...close?
                But then, as suddenly
as her clarity had come, the feeling fled, along with any hope she might have
harboured, because she saw something new. From the rear of the ranks a Hierarch
pushed through his soldiers, and it became obvious that he was their leader. He
wore a simple robe of bright red cloth, and it seemed as though his eyes bled
fire.
                With a grin, the mage
- for Rena had no doubt that he was a mage - laughed.
                'All these years, and
the babe stumbles