Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

"They should be saddled and ready by now," Kiram informed him. "I had weapons sent to the stables as well."

"Thank God for you, Kiram," Atreau whispered. And even Elezar gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

"There are other soldiers-" Kiram began to explain but Javier cut him off.

"Tell me on the way to the stable."

Then all five of them bolted for the stables. Kiram shouted what he had overheard of the captain's plans as they ran.

"So if we can get past these two dozen soldiers we'll still be trapped between the twelve mounted soldiers at the High Street and pikemen at the city gate." Javier shook his head. "This is a hell of a day to have a hangover."

Atreau simply moaned in response. Morisio gave a strained laugh.

In the stables Kiram found that Verano had been saddled for him to ride and that Nestor had saddled a roan gelding for himself. He looked oddly contradictory tightening a girth while dressed in a resplendent red brocade coat and dusted with gold powder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Elezar demanded of Nestor.

"Fighting beside my fellow Hellions," Nestor responded.

"You should be with your wife-" The rest of Elezar's argument was drowned out by the loud sounds of Atreau vomiting into a feed pail.

"You need all the help you can get," Nestor said. "And you don't have time to argue."

"He's right. The more of us there are the better our chances of taking the city gates." Javier swung up onto Lunaluz's back. He frowned down at Atreau. "Can you do this?"

"Certainly." Atreau shoved his black hair back from his face. Just looking at them Kiram felt sure they wouldn't last in a fight, certainly not against rested professional soldiers. Atreau looked dead already-his skin even more pale than Javier's. And then an idea came to Kiram.

"Javier, you and Atreau should change coats. And Atreau you should ride Morisio's gray stallion."

"What?" Atreau asked.

"Why?" Elezar demanded at the same moment.

Realization lit Nestor's face. "Brilliant! Atreau and Javier look enough alike that they could be mistaken for each other at a glance."

"Right," Kiram said. "When we reach the High Street Atreau and Morisio will ride for the dock. At the fourth pier you'll find a ship called the Red Witch. It's my brother's ship. Tell them Kiram sent you and he will see that you're safe."

"So we'll be drawing off the riders from the High Street?" Morisio asked.

"They'll have to split their numbers to pursue two parties," Kiram responded.

"I don't like Atreau posing as me." The concern in Javier's voice was obvious to them all.

"Honestly, it'll do your reputation with the ladies some good," Atreau responded with a wan smile, then swung up onto Morisio's light gray stallion. "I want to do it, Javier. I may be in no shape to fight but I can stay on a horse's back even in my sleep. I can be sick on a ship just as well as I can be sick on the road. And this way there will be fewer men after you when you take the city gates."

"I'll make sure he's safe," Morisio added.

They didn't have time to argue, Javier had to know that. He didn't look happy but he exchanged his formal black and silver coat for Atreau's amber one.

"All right." Javier's spoke coolly, his expression hard. "We go into the woods and draw the bishop's men from the front gate. Once they're amidst the trees, we circle back and make for the street."

Suddenly the crashing noise in the distance went silent. The front gate of the Grunito house had fallen.

There were no questions; they simply rode as Javier commanded, racing to reach the wooded cover of the Grunitos' private hunting grounds.

Kiram's pulse surged as the thunder of the horses charging from behind rolled over him. A rider shouted for them to halt and invoked the name of the royal bishop. Javier responded with an obscene gesture and then they all swept into the shadows of the woods.

Only a few yards in, Javier reined Lunaluz off the dirt path and into the thickest trees. Kiram and the rest of the Hellions followed. First Atreau and then Morisio surged past Kiram. The terrifing awareness that he was falling behind gripped him. Branches brushed past his face as he veered between trees. Wild birds startled into flight and still he knew he wasn't riding fast enough. Already he'd lost sight of Javier. Then Nestor swept in beside him.

"I think we've got them all in the woods now!" Nestor shouted over the thunder of horses' hooves.

A glance back assured Kiram that they had. A wall of men in leather armor riding huge warhorses charged down upon them. Sunlight flashed on the naked blades of their swords.

Kiram clenched his reins and despite his fear of falling he urged his mount ahead faster.

Behind him the royal bishop's men fanned out as the density of trees forced them apart. Ahead Kiram glimpsed a white stallion flashing between the dark trunks of the old oaks.

"Right!" Elezar shouted, his eyes on Nestor. Kiram realized that they had to break clear of the bishop's men now and make for the gate.

Kiram turned his mount to the right, demanding all of the horse's speed for the charge out of the woods. Beneath him, Verano responded with more power than Kiram was prepared for. He nearly slipped from his seat as they suddenly catapulted ahead. Branches slapped his arms and legs. His heart hammered in his throat. The dark shadows of trees blurred as Kiram flashed past them.

And then he was in the open, racing across Lady Grunito's gardens, then out past the ruined front gate and into the open street. Javier and Atreau rode nearly abreast. Morisio charged just behind them. Nestor rode only a few feet to Kiram's right and Elezar came up on his left.

Ahead of them all on High Street, twelve mounted soldiers formed a dark, still line in the midst of bustling carts and carriages.

In an instant they charged Javier and Atreau. Men and women on the street cried out. Cart drivers veered out of the way as best they could. The street became a riot and in the wave of panic, Atreau and Morisio both drove their mounts left towards the docks while Javier rode right into the busy road leading to the city gate.

Kiram followed Javier, as did Nestor and Elezar. Glancing back Kiram saw two of the bishop's men light out after Atreau and Morisio but the rest followed Kiram in his pursuit of Javier.

Ahead of him, Kiram could see why so few of the soldiers had mistaken Atreau for Javier. Mounted on Lunaluz, Javier seemed to fly through the crowded street. They soared over a goat cart as if lifted by magic. They veered and bounded through the press of carriages and street vendors like light skipping across a lake. Even terrified as they were, bystanders stared in awe as Javier passed them. No one else could have been the lord of the white hell.

Kiram's own passage was in no way so easy or majestic. Peddlers and beggars seemed to veer out at him. Wine barrels and oxen appeared in the middle of his path. It took all of his concentration to keep Verano from charging straight into a Mirogoth man and his dog.

Kiram could hear the bishop's men gaining ground behind him and suddenly he remembered the race through Zancoda. He'd done this before, he told himself. He could do it again.

But the women up on the balconies of the buildings weren't throwing down flowers but instead emptying chamber pots, and the riders behind Kiram weren't just after some ribbon. The chaos choking the street seemed impossible to navigate.

Then up ahead of him Kiram saw an opening. He charged forward and found a lane that must have opened in Javier's wake. Kiram thought he could see Nestor's and Elezar's brilliant brocade coats shining ahead of him.

Then a tiny form darted out into the road-a little girl, running for her mother across the street. Kiram jerked Verano back and nearly flew off the horse. He dug into his saddle as Verano turned aside and tossed his head. He steeled himself for a blow from the soldiers pursuing him.