Empire of Ashes

Chapter LXXXIX - Breaking Point

How are we all? Recovered yet? Is it safe for me to come out of the cave?

PS. If you missed the second chapter last friday ('Runaway'), go back and find that now or you're gonna be super confused.

We galloped for a quarter league, perhaps, until the horses were breathing hard and Belmery's walls had disappeared behind a grassy slope. The next hour was spent alternating between trot and canter. We pushed the horses as hard as we dared. Even Nightmare stopped tugging on the reins and settled beneath me. He was tired. We were all tired.

Halfway through the second hour, it was becoming obvious that we weren't going to stop. Glyn fidgeted and turned around in his saddle, looking for any sign that his brother might be approaching. We were about to enter a copse when he halted his pony altogether and dismounted. I had to rein in Nightmare, who was happy enough to drop his head and begin snatching mouthfuls of grass.

"Where's Tem?" the boy demanded.

Anlai cursed quietly. He and Fendur exchanged a series of looks which did absolutely nothing to clarify which of them would tell him. In fact, they only served to make Glyn more certain that something was amiss. He looked at us. Properly looked at us. There were more than enough clues — Fendur's eyes were red-rimmed, and we were all covered in blood.

Gods, he deserved to know.

"He's dead, Glyn," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Glyn made a choking sound. A few heartbeats later, he dropped his horse's reins and turned away, a scowl souring his face. "No, I don't believe you."

"It's true," Melia told him.

He didn't believe her, either. He looked at Fendur, who only shook his head, even as he blinked away fresh tears. The disbelief shattered into a thousand pieces, and it we could only watch as grief filled the hole it had left.

Glyn started walking back towards Belmery. If he had been in his right mind, he might have climbed onto his horse first, and then we would have been in trouble. But the shock had taken hold of his mind, and that was why he seemed to think he stood any chance of reaching his brother, let alone calling him back from the abyss.

Anlai was on the ground before he got very far. He caught up with the boy easily enough and stepped into his path.

"Get away from me," Glyn breathed.

"Sorry, kid. Sami needs you breathing."

And with that, Anlai wrapped an arm around Glyn's waist and carried him over to the stallion. He kicked and thrashed and screamed ... and his cousin ignored him. He was hoisted into the saddle like a sack of potatoes. Anlai climbed up behind him before he could even think of throwing himself off, and then he kicked the stallion on.

Melia led the pony, who seemed only too happy to trudge along behind. For the first league or so, Glyn was struggling too hard to risk anything faster than a trot. It was nearly an hour before he began to wear himself out. He slumped back, his head on Anlai's shoulder, and he started crying.

We had to take it in turns. Anlai first, then Fendur, and finally, when the boy was utterly exhausted, he was bundled onto Nightmare with me. The angry sobs had long since softened to whimpers. The sun was high in the sky by the time we could trust him on his own horse — and only then because I knew Nightmare could chase down the pony in a minute flat.

We drove the horses hard all day, always looking over our shoulders, jumping at our own shadows. It didn't matter that the challenge had been entirely legal. We could not kill a king in his own capital city and escape unscathed. We hadn't already, I supposed. One of our number was dead, and the rest of us looked like ghosts walking.