Gail Martin - The blood king

They fell silent, making their way in the shadows at the edge of the roadway. Twice they dodged into the bushes to escape patrols, narrowly evading a confrontation. As the path began a steep incline up the mountain behind the palace, the roadway became less traveled and more difficult. At the road's end, still a candlemark's climb from the peak, Hassad stopped.

"I can't go further," the spirit said. "May the blessing of the Goddess be with you, my liege." He dropped to one knee in fealty.

Tris gestured for the ghost to rise. "You've served this kingdom faithfully. If tonight's workings don't release you, I'll return, by the grace of the Lady, and set your spirit to rest."

Hassad inclined his head in gratitude. "What I served in life I serve willingly in death. Go, and may the hand of the Lady be upon you."

Tris led the others up the rocky slope where no road marked their way. Gabriel picked out safe

passage when the moonlight failed them, guiding the party to the peak. Finally they stood overlooking the palace city. Below them, partially carved from the mountain itself, was Shekerishet.

"Here's where it gets interesting," Tris murmured as they unpacked the climbing gear. In silence, Tris, Kiara, and Vahanian secured themselves into their sturdy harnesses and anchored their climbing ropes. Then, with a glance among the three companions and nods to indicate completion, Tris lowered himself over the edge and began to carefully make his way down the cliff face. Below them in the mews Tris could hear the cry of Kait's falcons. Jae circled in kinship, hissing to the captive birds of prey.

Gabriel signaled silently to them, descending to a shadowed place out of sight of the guards. They watched as a small noise attracted the attention of the two guards beneath them. The doomed soldiers approach Gabriel's hiding place. The only sound that traveled up to them was a gasp of astonishment. Moments later, Gabriel appeared from the shadows and signaled them to descend.

"You're one hell of a scout," Vahanian muttered to Gabriel as they reached the stone walkway and rapidly detached themselves from the harnesses.

Kiara moved quickly to the mews and gently set Jae down near the caged falcons. The gyregon hissed and the falcons responded with an answering cry. Carefully Kiara opened the cages and stood back as Jae flew into the air. Tris joined her. They each took up the gloves of the falconers that lay nearby, carefully removing each bird and its hood and launching the falcons into the air from their gloved forearms. The birds soared up to where Jae circled. Most fell in behind him. A few decided to challenge the newcomer, but the sparring was brief and decisive and the gyregon emerged dominant. Kiara and Tris removed the gloves, and Kiara smiled. "I think we can be sure that the roof is secure," she murmured.

Gabriel stepped forward, beckoning for them to follow him. Even by moonlight, Tris noted that the vayash moru's pallor had decreased, and his lips seemed more full and red.

"Come. The hunt is on," Gabriel said.

BY THE NINTH bell on the day of the Hawthorn Moon, Carroway and Carina had made the rounds of the city, finding that word of the uprising had preceded them among the other minstrels, who had added ideas of their own.

Already, the mood of the revelers was beginning to shift. The minstrels' songs took on a harder edge, replacing the maudlin love songs with ballads of heroes who threw off tyrants' yokes, and the great warriors of Margolan's past. Groups of wandering actors played out their skits, but now the tales told of villagers defying corrupt soldiers and maidens rescued from defilement. Guards set their dogs on the crowd, but one of the cart vendors tossed his

load of meat pies in the opposite direction, drawing off the snarling dogs, who ran like puppies to snatch up the fallen treats. Angered, the guards started to beat the vendor, but the crowd closed around them, and one man who was as broad as both guards together and a head taller than either of them hefted one of the guards in both hands and hurled him against a nearby wall. The other guard began to run, and the crowd pelted him with garbage as he fled.

By the tenth bell the crowd grew restless, then belligerent. Tales of hardship and oppression resonated within the audience. A dozen villagers climbed the bell tower and tore down the royal banner, setting it ablaze. Cries of outrage against the palace grew more strident.

"Now let's really get their attention," Carroway hissed. He headed toward the guardhouses just beyond the city gates, below the palace. A crowd milled there, mostly alesmen and whores tending to the needs of the guards. Positioning Carina and Alyzza for an easy escape, Carroway strolled among the crowd, ostentatiously juggling several flaming batons.

"You there, let's see you juggle!" called the captain at arms, leaning away from the strumpet beside him.

Carroway obligingly came closer, sending the fiery batons high into the night air. The soldiers gathered around, cheering and clapping. The whore withdrew a coin from her bodice and tossed it at Carroway's feet.

On the pretense of glancing at the coin, Carroway dropped one of his batons into the haystack nearest the guardhouse. The other two flaming batons went flying, one landing on the thatched roof of the outpost, the other landing so close to the drunken guardsman that he and his strumpet were obliged to jump out of its way.

"Stop him!" the captain cried.

"Now!" Carroway shouted. Alyzza flung a handful of pellets onto the ground between Carroway and his pursuers. The pellets exploded into puffs of colored smoke, startling the guards. With a touch of her own, Alyzza summoned a ball of mage fire, giving the smoke an eerie glow and setting the guards back a pace. It was enough of a diversion for Carroway and Carina to lose themselves in the crowd as the fire raged and the guards' attention turned to salvaging their post.

The flames were the signal the rowdy crowd needed. Soldiers tried in vain to keep back the revelers as the mob surged forward. Wielding whatever came to hand, whether broken boards or broom handles, the surly crowd pressed toward the soldiers. The captain waved his sword in vain. More shouts sounded a few streets over. In the distance, another guard house went up in flames.

One of the guards sent an arrow flying. It struck a man at the front of the mob, taking him through the heart. Like a spark to tinder, the crowd's rage ignited. A wave of rioters swept forward. There was the sound of glass shattering as men smashed wine bottles to use as weapons. The night smelled of sweat and ale and of burning straw. To the soldiers' horror, the angry revelers advanced with a howl and did not stop, even when more men fell to the archers' arrows.

Alyzza's hand moved, hidden by the press of bodies around them. The stable doors flew open and a loud noise sent the guards' horses stampeding out the back, fleeing in panic down the streets. She chuckled as her hand traced a sigel in the air. "I've fused the blades together in the armory," she called to Carina. "Let them try to use those!"

Rocks crashed through the windows of the guard house. One of the guards fell with a hunting knife

protruding from his chest. The panicked soldiers rushed the crowd, brandishing swords. The mob advanced, beating back the soldiers with staves and walking sticks. Two men came running with the spoils from a looted blacksmith's forge. The rioters took up a cry as metal bars replaced walking sticks and horseshoes flew with deadly aim at the soldiers. Three more guardsmen fell to the ground as the crowd rushed forward, dragging their own dead and wounded out of the way.

The hapless guards, faced with several hundred drunken and increasingly well-armed festival goers, abandoned their burning post and fled. The crowd cheered and pelted the fleeing soldiers with rocks.