“I’m done, lass,” Staeli said, wiping his hand on a rag and tossing it aside. “The Oath Maidens will fight to defend the king tonight. They’ve trained hard and they’ve trained well. So have you. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about our fate, but we won’t make it easy for them to take this castle. We’ll put up a fight.”
Trynne nodded to him. “I’m glad you are with me,” she said. She dreaded losing anyone else she held dear.
There was a firm rap on the door. Trynne sighed and nodded to Staeli to open it. She used the power of the ring to summon the mirage of her face without the woad, her body dressed in the tunic of Averanche rather than the armor of the Maid of Donremy. She started toward the door as Staeli opened it, revealing Fallon’s herald.
“The king is going to the wall with Lord Fallon,” the herald said. “He wanted you to join them.”
Trynne gave a final curt nod to Staeli and, gripping the hilt of one of her swords, followed the herald into the corridor. Even though it was the middle of the night, no one in the castle was asleep. The great hall was filled with the people from the town, mostly women and children. Every able-bodied man had been given a weapon and a shield and assigned a place to defend the fortress. The air was thick with fear, but people murmured that the king was there with Firebos. They would rally together to fight against the invader.
The torches affixed to the outer wall of Dundrennan cast light on the preparations that were being made. The drawbridge was up, revealing a jagged cleft of rocks separating the defenders from the attacking army. The bailey was crowded with knights, and many of the castle’s braziers had been brought out to provide warmth. Trynne and Staeli followed the herald to a stone staircase leading up to the head of the gate. The king was pacing the battlements, wearing borrowed armor. The hollow crown was welded to his helmet. It was nearly midnight, judging by the stars overhead. The moon had disappeared.
Fallon stood there in his armor, the chain cowl up around his head, his arms folded imperiously. He nodded at Trynne as she reached the top of the wall.
The view filled her with dread. A veritable sea of torches filled the space below, and the golden armor of the warriors of Chandigarl glowed in the light. The ranks of Gahalatine’s soldiers stood in perfectly ordered rows—spearmen, archers, and warriors with glaives. Row after row, phalanx after phalanx, with more coming still. There was no siege apparatus on display, no towers or ladders or ropes with grappling hooks. She knew from her own experience that they did not need them.
Their breath came out in puffs of mist. The night was bitingly cold and getting colder. Her eyes shot to the hollow crown.
Standing opposite Fallon was Duke Severn, wearing his black armor with the boar badge tunic, still bloodstained from the battle at Blackpool. He glared down at the host.
The king smiled when he saw Trynne. “We’re outnumbered,” he said to her. “But do not the rocks hold back the sea? I’ve ordered the maidens to occupy the heights along the inner wall. Fallon’s knights hold this one. Do you approve?”
Trynne nodded, gazing down at the huge host, her throat stopped with fear.
Fallon approached. “The last Espion to make it inside said they found a treasure ship unloading in Blackpool two days ago. Another host of soldiers is marching to Dundrennan. They are converging here with suitable arms. Grand Duke Elwis crossed over from Brugia with an army of ten thousand and started attacking the supply lines. Some of this new army has diverted south to engage his. The war is happening in multiple places and across multiple battlefields. But this one is the largest.”
“Thank you for the news,” Drew said grimly. “We are hopelessly outnumbered. But one soldier with courage has always been worth a hundred men fighting for the wrong reason.”
“My lord, look!” Severn said, pointing off the wall.
They all turned at once. The army before them was splitting in half. A black road appeared down the middle. Then Trynne saw Gahalatine striding through the ranks with Rucrius by his side and two other figures following behind them. She sensed the aura of their magic as they approached. It had become familiar to her.
Just a few days before, she had faced Gahalatine at the zenana in Chandigarl. Now he was approaching Dundrennan as a man of war.
The knights on the wall fell silent as he approached.
Drew’s face twisted with animosity as he gazed down at the emperor. He was still looking at the scene below when flakes of snow began to drift down from the cloudless sky. There was an audible gasp as the soldiers noticed the flurry. A grim smile appeared on Severn’s mouth. He knew, better than anyone, the special qualities of the hollow crown.