David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

A second arrow skipped harmlessly off the stone and past her head before diving into the sea below. A third struck her thigh, making her cry out.

She grabbed at the shaft of the arrow in her chest to pull it out, then thought better of it, remembering instructions her father had given her many years before.

“You’ll do more damage pulling the thing out than it did going in,” he had told her. “If you have to break off the shaft, do. But don’t remove it. You’ll bleed to death.”

Right.

“Down, Rish!” she said through clenched teeth, as another arrow struck the stone and clattered over the edge.

She crawled back a bit toward the cliff, flattening herself against the stone, her chest and thigh screaming. The pain wasn’t spreading, though-no poison on the points.

Rish lowered himself to the ground. Diani scrambled over to him, took hold of his mane and the pommel of his saddle, and kicked at his flanks with her good leg.

“Ride, Rish! Now!”

A third dart buried itself in the back of her shoulder and yet another whistled past her ear. But by now she was speeding away from the promontory, clinging desperately to Rish’s neck and steering him from side to side to present a more difficult target. She wasn’t certain she could hold on if she was struck again; if Rish was hit her life would be forfeit. Even as she rode, though, she glanced over her bloodied shoulder toward the stones. She saw her attackers immediately. They weren’t bothering to conceal themselves anymore.

Two men, both with heads shaved, both tall and wearing dun cloaks. They loosed their bows again in unison, but the arrows fell short. She was too far.

Diani shifted her gaze to the shaft jutting from her chest. There were two rings just below the fletching-yellow and blue, the colors of Brugaosa. Of course. The Brugaosans had long been Curlinte’s sworn enemies. They were a patriarchal dukedom within the Sanbiri matriarchy, and had long chafed at the Yserne Supremacy. Unwilling to oppose the Crown openly, however, they had instead sought to undermine Yserne’s strongest allies: Curlinte, Prentarlo, and Listaal. The Brugaosans often boasted that theirs was the finest ducal army in the realm, second in skill and strength only to the queen’s own. Their archers were renowned throughout all the southern Forelands.

Except that even through the pain, even dazed and weak, Diani knew that the Brugaosans wouldn’t make an attempt on her life. Yes, Brugaosa and Curlinte were rivals. There had even been a time within the last hundred years when the two houses had spoken brazenly of going to war. Many, including her father, still blamed Brugaosa for the murder, a bit more than three years ago, of Cyro, Diani’s brother. But Diani saw a darker, more sinister purpose behind Cyro’s assassination, and she felt certain that the same shadowy hand had given gold to the archers whose arrows had pierced her flesh.

An assassination attempt at the promontory implied intimate knowledge of her habits, and such knowledge had to have come from within the court.

“The conspiracy,” she murmured into Rish’s mane.

Which meant that danger awaited her within the walls of Castle Curlinte looming before her.

She whispered a word to her mount, and he slowed. Glancing behind her again, Diani saw no sign of the assassins. She didn’t remember seeing horses with them, and even if they had been riding, they wouldn’t have followed her so close to the castle. If she rode to the west gate or the sea gate, too many people would see her. Word of the attack would spread through the city and castle like the pestilence, and the traitor, whoever it was, would have time to prepare for her arrival.

She urged Rish onward again, steering him toward the south gate, which she could reach without having to ride through the city. She was starting to feel dizzy and cold-she couldn’t imagine that she had ever thought this day warm enough for a ride to the promontory.

Four soldiers stood at the gate watching her approach. They knew her horse, and so it was not until she was quite close to the castle that they realized something was wrong. Two of the men started forward while the other two ran toward the inner barbican.

“Don’t raise the alarm!” she called to them, the effort nearly toppling her from her saddle.

The first of the guards reached her and eased her from atop the mount. There were tears in his eyes. Was she dying, then?

“My lady! Who did this?”

“Assassins, at the promontory.”

“We should send men there. Those are Brugaosan arrows.”

“No, it’s not them.” It was getting very difficult to keep her thoughts clear. “Get me to my father’s chamber. And find a healer, a Qirsi. But be quiet about it. No one but the healer should know I’m here.”

“But, my lady-”

“Just do as I say. And hide my mount. No one should know I’ve returned.”

She made herself stare at the man, his face swimming before her eyes. “Do you understand?”

He nodded. “Yes, my lady. It shall be done.”

Diani closed her eyes, feeling consciousness slip away. “My father’s chamber,” she managed to say again. Then blackness.

She awoke to the sound of bells. Distant, tolling in the city. Her vision was blurred and she didn’t recognize the room. She tried to sit up, but was held to the bed by strong hands.

“What is the time?” she rasped.

“Those are the prior’s bells.” Her father’s voice.

“What day?”

“The same day you rode. The tenth of the waning.”

She took a breath, allowing herself to relax. Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the candlelight, she recognized the familiar shapes of her father’s quarters. She was lying on her back, so at least one of the arrows had been removed. She put a hand to her chest and then her thigh. All of them were gone.

A pallid face loomed above her, framed by white hair. A healer, one she didn’t know.

“You were fortunate, my lady. The injury to your leg was a small matter, but less than half a span’s difference with either of the other two arrows, and you would have died on the moors.”

Diani exhaled slowly, nodded. “Thank you.”

“She needs rest,” the white-hair said, facing her father. “Have some soup brought from the kitchens and keep her still for a few days. I’ve mended the wounds, but her body needs time to heal. She bled a great deal.”

Her father stepped to her bed and took her hand. “All right.”

The man started to go.

“Wait,” Diani said, making herself sit up. The room spun like a child’s top, and she nearly passed out.

The healer frowned. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“You can’t leave,” she said, ignoring the question.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to remain here until I know who’s responsible for what happened today.”

“But I live in the city. I have family there.”

She glanced at her father. “How many people know he’s here?”

“Only the two of us, and the two guards who brought you to me. After they told me what you’d said, I thought it best to find a healer from outside the castle. They took him out of the city through the sea gate and then around to the south to enter the castle. As long as he’s escorted back the same way, I don’t think there’s any danger in letting him go.”

She looked briefly at the healer. “Forgive me.”

“Of course, my lady.” He started toward the door again.

“I take it you know nothing of the conspiracy?” she said, before he could leave.

“Nothing beyond what I’ve heard, my lady.”

“You know what I’ll do to you if I learn that you’re lying?”

He gave a thin smile. “I have some idea, yes.”