A clump of raiders broke from the group, running toward the carriage. Echo’s voice surged as he threw himself in front of them. He was no warrior. He would not be able to hold them all off.
Cadence growled beside her. “Let them come. They’ll have to get through me first!”
That would take all of three heartbeats. Her handmaiden had a fierce tongue, but her battle skills were limited to needles and embroidery. If only the enemy were thorny roses.
Valoria turned her attention back to Sill and took a deep breath. She sensed a greater presence lurking in those mountains. Now, she had to call it to her. Her voice rang out, sweet and clear as morning’s first light.
“Beyond the borders
Of shadowed paths
A bright dove calls.”
A vast consciousness stirred with a low rumble as if waking from a long sleep. Valoria sensed a power far greater than hers with an insatiable hunger for anything with blood running through their veins.
“Valoria, what are you doing?”
“Saving us all.” Her voice rose.
“Save her brethren
And her enemies
Are ripe to pluck.
Their hearts bleed
With fiery vengeance.
Let their passion
Draw you near.”
An icy breeze blew through her, tossing her gown around her legs. A wall of cool mist rode the wind, pouring from the foothills. Valoria held a melancholy high note, allowing the tone to echo over the meadow before tapering away into the minstrel’s humming. One by one, the raiders emerged from the mist disoriented, giving the minstrels enough time to pull the cloths from their ears. They fell as the dissonant hum of the minstrels’ Song of Power rang in their heads.
Her attention returned to Echo. Four of the five raiders surrounded him. He’d killed one of them, but the others wore him down. He wouldn’t last long. A memory of the old man teaching her harmonies on the harp tightened her chest. She would not see him die.
The lead charger of the Royal Guard hacked at raiders all around him. With one swift blow, he sliced through two attackers, then trampled another with his horse’s hooves. He lunged at a clump of raiders emerging from the mist in the opposite direction.
But, he wouldn’t be going in that direction for long. Valoria strummed her harp. She did not know this particular warrior, but she knew the desires lurking in every soldier’s heart.
“Honor bestowed
On a savior.
Justice is served
When one man outnumbered
Has a second chance.”
The rider turned around. His armor shone brilliantly in the sun. He wasn’t overly large and muscly, but lean and swift, riding with the grace of a dancer, as if his horse were an extension of his legs. With his visor down, Valoria could not see his face, yet his actions took her breath away.
As Echo swung his blade desperately in an arc around him, the soldier came up from behind, spearing one of the raiders. The others turned toward the soldier, their attention diverted. Clutching a gash on his shoulder oozing blood, Echo fell to his knees.
“No.” Valoria dropped her harp.
Cadence grabbed her hand. “It’s too dangerous. Too many raiders still run free.”
“Look.” She pointed to where the mist dissipated. “They flee toward the hills.”
Cadence’s grip tightened. “Still, you should get back in the carriage. There is no place for a lady on a battlefield.”
Valoria ripped her hand out of her handmaiden’s grip. “Tell that to my new mother-in-law.”
She ran toward Echo, darting in between minstrels gathering the wounded and tending to the horses, while the Royal Guard captured prisoners. Her mentor lay on his back in the grass, his gaze skyward, as if he longed to meet Helena and Horred in their sacred temple.
Valoria fell on her knees beside him. The gash ran from his neck to his shoulder, his skin split open by a crude blade. The earth below him blossomed with red. Denying his condition, she tore a piece of cloth from her dress and tied it tightly around the wound. “For a harp teacher, you’re quite good with a blade.”
“Necessity dictates action, my dear.” He studied her face, raising a finger to her cheek. His usually ruddy complexion had paled. His hair seemed grayer and thinner against the long-stemmed grass. “Shouldn’t you be in your carriage?”
“Like a prize to be won?” She shook her head. “I missed my harp too much.”
“I bet a wyvern’s egg you did.”
“Come on.” She hefted him up. “Your carriage awaits.”
“Am I to take your place?”
She laughed, wishing it were so. “I don’t think Braxten Thoridian would like that.”
As if summoned by a name, the solider turned toward them and dismounted. All four raiders lay at his feet. He pulled his helmet from his head, and brown, curly hair fell around his shoulders. His eyes were a rich, amber brown, his features sharp and rugged. He fell to one knee and bowed before her. “Princess, allow me to help you.”
Hope glimmered in Valoria’s heart, followed by a swell of desire. This man had led the Royal Guard into battle. His armor had Ebonvale’s double sword crest and the deep violet colors of the ruling house. It had to be Braxten Thoridian. “Yes, help me carry him to the carriage. My handmaiden can tend to his wounds.”
The soldier took one arm, and Valoria took the other. They lifted Echo and walked carefully to the carriage. Around them, the soldiers patrolled the fields as the last raiders fled.
The soldier glanced at Valoria with melancholy. “My apologies, Princess. It seems for many of your retinue, we came too late.”
“Helena looked upon us with grace today. We’re fortunate you came.” Valoria gave him a thankful nod. His modesty impressed her. He’d just defeated an entire horde with only a brigade, yet it was a sad victory. He spoke as if the fallen were his own.
“Another raid held us up. We had planned to meet you at the forest’s edge.”
She studied his profile, wondering if he was as kind as he was handsome. “Another raid?”
“These are dire times we live in. After the wyverns destroyed the southern towns, many of Ebonvale’s people fled north. We only had room for so many refugees, so the rest had to fend for themselves. Who knew they’d become outlaws.”
They hefted Echo into the carriage. He grunted and held his wounded shoulder.
Cadence covered him with a blanket. “I’ll keep him safe, my lady.” She stole a glance at the soldier, then looked back to Valoria and raised her eyebrows.
Valoria ignored her unspoken question. “Thank you.” She placed her hand on Echo’s cheek. “Rest now.” His eyes flickered as he fell in and out of consciousness.
She exited the carriage, picked up her harp, and took the reins of a fallen minstrel’s horse.
The soldier followed her and offered his hand to help her mount. “You are not riding in the carriage, Princess?”
She snorted. “This is where I should have been in the first place: riding with my harp tied to my back.”
His eyes held amusement and something more. Was it admiration? “Better to fend off foes?”
She held her breath. Did he know she’d