‘Danton actually laughed to see the pistol in my hand. Against the skin of an ancien Voss, the shot would be less than worthless. And so I took aim, struck the trigger, black ignis flaring as the muzzle flashed and the shot cracked, ‘“Sorry, boy …”
‘… right between my target’s big brown eyes.
‘The lead horse dropped like a rock, brains smashed to pulp. As it collapsed, the horse behind it screamed and collided with its fellow, and I saw Danton’s eyes grow wide, his smile fail as the horses collapsed in a tangle of snapping harness and bone. The lead spar crashed into the earth, the crack of splitting timbers rang out in the night, and Danton’s carriage flipped end over end, that dark-haired lass with the pretty green eyes thrown like a ragdoll. I turned away before she struck the earth, closed my ears to the sound of her breaking, telling myself over and over that it’s always better to be a bastard than a fool.
‘Her name …
‘“Better to be a bastard than a fool,” I hissed.
‘Her name was Nahia …
‘Several riders stopped to help their fallen lord, but the rest rode on, crossbow bolts hissing through the air. Rafa cried out as one struck his shoulderblade, and Saoirse cursed as their horse almost spilled. Bellamy twisted in his saddle, unleashed his own crossbow into the closest thrall. The man bucked, coughed blood, but stayed upright. A dagger flashed through the night, struck the fellow in his throat and sent him tumbling, another already in Saoirse’s hand.
‘“How far to the river?” Chloe gasped.
‘“That’s Haemun’s Hill ahead!”
‘Reaching to my bandolier, I snapped the seal on a glass phial and hurled it. The silverbomb exploded, blasting thralls from their saddles in a blinding flash. But the others came on. And in the distance, among the riders who’d stopped to help him …
‘“Fuck,” I hissed.
‘“Gaaaaaabe!”
‘“I see him, Chloe!”
‘“No, Gabe, ahead, ahead!”
‘We’d rounded the bend at Haemun’s Hill, horses frothing, hearts pounding, and ahead I saw a sheer, dark bank dropping ten feet into the black rush of the Dílaenn River. The mooring stones were intact, crusted with blooms of maryswort. But beyond …
‘“Mothermoons, the bridge is down!” Saoirse roared.
‘“Keep riding!” I bellowed.
‘“But Gabriel—”
‘“I’ll hold them, Chloe! KEEP RIDING!”
‘I pulled up on Jezebel’s reins, slowing the dray and drawing my sword. Ashdrinker gleamed in my lanternlight, a silver smile on her hilt and a silver whisper in my mind. She seemed more certain tonight, her voice steadier, closer to what she’d once been.
‘No mercy begged, Gabriel. And none bestowed.
‘The first thrall reached me – a militiaman with a long ashwood spear and suit of stout chain. I split the man’s spear in half, sent his guts spilling into the dark. I heard Bellamy whooping, Chloe yelling, “Hold tight, Dior!” the boy screaming as their horses plunged into the rapids below. Three riders barrelled past me, and I took one off his horse, another’s arm off his shoulder as they flashed by. I grunted as a sword pierced my ribs, cutting leather and meat and bone, twisting as it came.
‘Much faster ye were in thy youth, Gabriel.
‘I lashed out at the man who’d stuck me, blood spilling warm and wet down my side. “Nobody asked your f-fucking opinion, Ash!”
‘Ye mayst use me as a walking stick if ye hast need?
‘The thrall gurgled as I drove Ashdrinker through his throat, twin arcs of blood fountaining into the sky as the blade scraped his spine.
‘Ah, much better, much b-better indeed. The snik and the snak and the red red red.
‘The swordsman clutched his split neck and collapsed into the road. But looking farther down it, I saw him coming again now, a black shadow, no smile on his face any more – the beast he’d been named for surfacing as he bared his fangs and roared.
‘“De León!”
‘“Gabriel!” Chloe wailed.
‘“Face me, you callow wretch!”
‘The first of seven, Gabriel. First of s-seven. As Fabién took from ye, take like from him.
‘One scream in front of me. Another behind. The vengeance that had dragged me northwards into this lonely winter, or the promise of perhaps finishing it once and for all.
‘One foe in sight. One friend in need.
‘No choice at all.
‘This t-time, I swear I—
‘Ashdrinker fell silent as I sheathed her at my waist, slapping Jezebel’s rump. The dray kicked up and bolted, her breath like a blast furnace. I thought she might have baulked at the edge – that I’d have to force her into the plunge or simply leap from her back to the water below. But she charged towards that broken bridge as fearless as any horse I’d ever known. And as Jezebel leapt out into the breach, dauntless, plunging towards those dark rapids after Chloe and the others, I held tight to her mane and whispered, “I need to give you a better name, love …”
‘We plunged into dark water, all the world muted. The river was freezing, and I almost inhaled a lungful as the shock reached my spine. I crashed to the surface, slinging a whip of waterlogged hair from my eyes and dragging a shaking breath into bleeding lungs. I saw Jezebel beside me, reached towards her, trying to float with the flow when— ‘A thrall crashed atop me, his sword plunging into my shoulder, scraping my ribs. I roared in pain and clutched his throat, dragging us both below. He slipped his blade free, stabbing again, into my belly this time. But my thumbs had found his eyes by then, and they sank in, knuckle deep, muted scream and a bird-brittle crunch rising over the rapids’ roar. He stabbed me again before it failed him – that strength which he’d been gifted but to which I’d been fucking born. And then he went limp, the water warm around my hands. Kicking free of his arms, I lunged back up to the air.
‘“Gabriel!”
‘Chloe’s scream, ragged with terror. I searched the dark, spied her a little ways downriver, clinging desperately to her panicking horse lest her chainmail and sword drag her to her death. But her eyes were filled with purest horror.
‘“Dior can’t swim!”
‘“Oh, blessed facefuckery …”
‘I looked about, kicking upwards for desperate vantage. I saw spitting spray and grinning rocks and tumbling black. But of the boy, there was no sign.
‘“Gabe, you have to—”
‘The rest of Chloe’s words were lost as I plunged below the foam. The bloodhymn kept the agony of my wounds at bay, and I swam through sunken boughs and a cold as deep as tombs. For the longest time, I saw nothing save the dark, and the folly of all I’d done. But ahead, cresting the jagged edge of a long-sunk stone, I caught it – a flash of pale. Fangs bared, I lunged, kicking with boots full of water and pockets full of hope, and finally, finally seizing hold of a fine frockcoat, midnight-blue with silver curlicue.
‘I surged to the surface with a ragged gasp. The rapids roared in my ears, the sword wounds in my belly and shoulder bled red into the rushing black, and my heart sang in my chest as I saw Dior gasp for breath. And then the boy realized where he was, water all around, water beneath, and I saw panic clench his jaw and he grabbed hold of my throat and dragged me right the fuck back under.