Tobazim felt sick. ‘How can you follow him?’
‘He’s the all-father.’ Ceyne grimaced. ‘He holds our lives in his hands.’
Athlyn arrived at a run. ‘There are armed Mieren in the street.’
Learon turned to Tobazim.
‘What are you going to do?’ Ceyne asked.
‘The women and children need us,’ Tobazim said. ‘Come on.’
He led them up the steps at a run, heart pounding. When they reached the roof, the cries of the women and children drew them to the edge. Kyredeon’s palace roof was lower than Chariode’s. Only a short gap separated the two buildings, but it was too far for the children to jump, and the mothers couldn’t leave them.
Tobazim looked around for something to bridge the gap. He spotted a long garden trellis. His gift told him it was sturdily made and would support the weight of adults. He raised his voice. ‘Over here. Give me a hand with this.’
The others saw what he intended. Between them, they uprooted the trellis and carried it across, stood it on its end and let it fall. It clattered into place.
The mothers sent the nimbler, older children across first, but there were still the babies and toddlers to come.
Tobazim noticed a canvas awning, and threw it across the gap as well. The mothers sat their little ones on the canvas and they slid down into the arms of the waiting rescuers.
While this was going on, Learon jogged to the far end of the roof, which overlooked the street. After a moment, he returned.
‘It’s bad. Mieren fill the brotherhood quarter. They’re pouring up the causeway boulevard towards the free quarter.’
‘All those revellers...’ Unarmed, drinking and eating. Tobazim ran to the far end of the roof to see for himself. Judging by the volume of invaders... ‘The causeway gate must be open.’
‘We should close it,’ Learon said. ‘We need to gather a party and fight our way there. Once it’s closed, the Mieren will be trapped. We can overcome them and hunt them down.’
Tobazim caught his arm. ‘First we have to make sure the palace will hold. Then we close the causeway gate and take back the island.’
This time there was nowhere to run to.
IMOSHEN WOKE AS a particularly raucous cry drifted up from the courtyard below. Her gift tried to rise and she forced it down.
‘The celebrations are noisy tonight,’ Frayvia whispered. Sitting up, she pushed the hair from her face. They’d fallen asleep on the window seat.
Something tipped over and smashed. They heard running feet and shouting.
Annoyed, Imoshen came to her feet. ‘Stay with Uma.’
She left the nursery to find that Iraayel and Saffazi had fallen asleep in front of the fire, holding hands with their heads together.
Surprised, she was about to say something, when a scream echoed up from the courtyard.
Iraayel snapped awake. She felt his male gift surface as he rolled to his feet.
Saffazi frowned, lifting on one elbow. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know.’ Imoshen felt a sick lurch of fear. Had the brotherhoods attacked?
Shouts, running feet, a shriek cut off too soon.
Iraayel hauled Saffazi up, and the two sixteen-year-olds looked to Imoshen, eyes wide with fear, gifts on alert.
‘Come with me.’ She slipped through the greeting chamber and out into the corridor. It was empty, but she could hear shouting, shrieks, smashing glass and running feet.
She would be able to see what was going on from the top of the grand staircase. When she reached the balcony overlooking the main entrance, she saw half a dozen Mieren below, looting and smashing. If they were here, in the highest palace of the sisterhood quarter, that meant they were all over the island city.
‘We have to get the T’En children to safety,’ Imoshen said, drawing the other two out of sight.
As she headed back the way they’d come, Bedutz led several T’En lads round the far corner.
Imoshen signalled for silence and beckoned them. When they reached her, she was enveloped in roused male gift. Saffazi shifted, uncomfortable with the sensation.
‘There are Mieren on the ground floor,’ Imoshen whispered.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Bedutz muttered. ‘Why are there Mieren in the palace? We’re not at war.’
‘We need weapons,’ Iraayel whispered. ‘Where’s the hand-of-force? She should be organising our defences.’
Imoshen suspected everyone was scrambling to find weapons and hold the rooms they were in.
‘Wyrds!’ A man yelled from the top of the stairs. ‘Filthy Wyrds.’
With a roar, a mob of Mieren charged them, weapons raised.
‘Go save the children.’ Iraayel pushed Imoshen away. ‘Everyone else, with me.’
Imoshen hesitated. Iraayel ran toward the men. He grabbed a tall brass statuette from a sideboard as he ran, and swung it like a club, sending two Mieren flying. Saffazi darted forward to snatch a fallen sword and Bedutz snatched a second blade, and the younger lads followed their lead.
Imoshen didn’t want to leave them, but she had to.
She ran along the corridor and around the corner, discovered old Tiasarone with a huddle of young T’En children.
Scooping up a little boy, Imoshen led them to her chamber. As she opened the door and ushered them through, she saw Iraayel and the others battling to drive half a dozen Mieren back to the top of the stairs.
‘Take the children through to the nursery. Here’s the key. Lock every door after you,’ she told Tiasarone.
As soon as the inner door closed, Imoshen ran to a chest and threw the lid open. She hauled everything out, removed the false bottom and retrieved the sword that once belonged to Imoshen the Covenant-maker.
Sword in hands, she ran out into the corridor, finding Iraayel and the others trying to hold the stairs. Imoshen charged, swinging the sword. She took down two Mieren before embedding the sword in a column.
Iraayel pushed her aside and grabbed the hilt. ‘Block the stairs with the sideboards. We need a barricade.’
She nodded and grabbed several of the smaller boys to help her. Iraayel tore the sword from the column. She heard the sharp clash of metal on metal.
The sideboards were very heavy and Imoshen and the lads struggled to drag them. Bedutz and Saffazi left Iraayel to hold the stairs while they built the barricade.
Once they’d barred the stairs, they had to finish off the last few Mieren still on the balcony. Imoshen saw a youth of fourteen bring a statuette down on one attacker’s head. Two of the lads dragged the Mieren away and threw him down the stairs. He took several others with him.
The lads cheered. But for every enemy that fell, two more fought to breach the barricade. Imoshen ran to the railing. A glance below showed Mieren pouring through the entrance. They divided, some coming straight up the grand staircase, others charging off into the ground floor rooms.
Iraayel swung the sword, with Bedutz and Saffazi on either side of him. Hacking, chopping, cutting the invaders down. It was butchery.
The clatter of metal on metal, the deep shouts of their attackers – the roar of battle drummed on Imoshen’s ears. She saw a boy of thirteen go down under a Mieren. The man lifted his arm to drive his sword through the boy’s chest. Imoshen leapt for the Mieren, touched the back of his neck and pulled his life force out of him, sending the man’s essence to the higher plane.
He dropped. Bedutz shoved the Mieren aside and hauled the boy to his feet.
The distinctive ululating warcry of the sisterhood warriors reached her from the ground floor. Their defenders had rallied.
The attackers at the top of the stairs thinned, until the last few Mieren turned and ran. The T’En lads drew back, and bent double, gasping to catch their breath. Saffazi grinned, covered in blood, a wild light in her eyes.
This time, when Imoshen looked over the balcony, she could see the bloodied marble floor. Their attackers fled, chased by a dozen warriors, both Malaunje and T’
En.
‘After them,’ Iraayel cried.
‘Don’t go downstairs,’ Imoshen told him. ‘Go up to the top floor. Go through our palace room by room, flush out any attackers who have already reached the higher levels. We don’t want any nasty surprises.’
He nodded and led the others along the corridor. As he rounded the bend, Imoshen’s hand-of-force appeared from the other direction, with several bloodied warriors.
‘You’re all right.’ Arodyti hugged her, then pulled back. ‘We can’t find the T’En children.’
‘They’re safe in my chambers. I sent Iraayel with Saffazi and the lads to the top floor to flush out attackers.’ Her mind raced. ‘We’ll need to bring the wounded to the solarium.’
They heard a sharp cry, which suddenly stopped.
‘It’s still dangerous,’ Arodyti told her. ‘Stay here.’
‘I’m the all-mother. I can’t hide.’
‘Of course she can’t,’ Egrayne said, joining them. ‘But you’re not going to take any risks either.’
‘As soon as our palace is secure, help the others,’ Imoshen told Arodyti. She was worried about Reoden. ‘When that’s done, make sure the sisterhood quarter is safe, then–’
‘Then report back,’ Egrayne said.
‘We need to make sure the island is secure,’ Imoshen added.
‘The brotherhoods are already doing that.’ Egrayne slid an arm around Imoshen and drew her away. ‘You need to come with me.’
‘I should check on the children.’
‘Soon. There’s something you need to see.’
She led Imoshen up to the tallest tower.
‘Good idea,’ Imoshen told her. ‘We can assess the damage from here.’
Then she saved her breath for climbing the steps. From the top of the tower, she spotted several fires down in the brotherhood quarter and the free quarter, but... ‘The brotherhoods have managed to close the causeway gate.’
‘Look.’ Egrayne pointed to the lake shore.
Dotted along the slope to one side of the town were hundreds – no, thousands – of flickering camp fires.
Imoshen’s heart sank. She had come here seeking sanctuary, looking for a safe place to raise her child. Now she had another child, but this was no longer a safe haven. ‘The city’s besieged.’
VITTORYXE FOUND IMOSHEN and Egrayne coming down from the tower.
‘The city’s under siege,’ Imoshen said. ‘We’re trapped.’
‘We’re going to need someone to deal with King Charald,’ Egrayne said, looking at Imoshen. ‘We need a causare to unite us.’
Vittoryxe could not believe it. Everything fell into that woman’s lap. ‘Imoshen...’
‘Exactly. She’s a raedan.’
‘No.’ Imoshen looked genuinely frightened by the idea. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she realise what an honour this was?
‘You’re the most powerful of the all-mothers,’ Egrayne said.
‘What about one of the all-fathers?’ Imoshen suggested.
‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll all want the role, but would any of them be suitable?’ Egrayne looked past Imoshen to Vittoryxe. ‘Do we want an aggressive man intent on making the Mieren pay for what they’ve done, or someone who can read King Charald and manipulate him?’
‘We want Imoshen for causare,’ Vittoryxe said, and the words were sour on her tongue. Somehow, Imoshen had stolen everything she had ever wanted.
Acknowledgements
A book does not just arrive, it takes a long time in the gestation and many people play a part. I would like to thank my writing group, ROR, who read the first draft of a book set in this world over ten years ago. Thanks to Marianne de Pierres, Margo Lanagan, Maxine McArthur, Tansy Rayner Roberts, Trent Jamieson, Richard Harland and Dirk Flinthart.
I would like to thank my agent, John Jarrold, and my publisher, Solaris, who have been so supportive. Solaris chose the cover artist, Clint Langley, for both King Rolen’s Kin and The Outcast Chronicles. Everyone comments on Clint’s great covers.
My special thanks goes to my editor, Jonathan Oliver, for his input in pulling the series together and to David Moore, for saying it was worth it.
THE KING ROLEN’S KIN TRILOGY BOX SET:
The King's Bastard, The Uncrowned King, and The Usurper
Now collected in a single ebook!
Only seven minutes younger than Rolencia’s heir, Byren has never hungered for the throne; he laughs when a seer predicts that he will kill his twin. But the royal heir resents Byren’s growing popularity. Across the land the untamed magic of the gods wells up out of the earth’s heart, sending exotic creatures to stalk the wintry nights and twisting men’s minds, granting them terrible visions. Those so touched are sent to the Abbey, to learn to control their gift, or die.
At King Rolen’s court, enemies plot to take his throne, even as secrets within his own household threaten to tear his family apart.
Political intrigue and magic combine in this explosive new fantasy trilogy.
“Pacy and full of action and intrigue.”
– Trudi Canavan, author of The Black Magician trilogy.
www.solarisbooks.com
Praise for Rowena Cory Daniells
Also by Rowena Cory Daniells
Title
Indicia
Imoshen's Journel
Map of Chalcedonia and the Five Kingdoms
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Part Two
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Acknowledgements
'The Chronicle of King Rolen's Kin Trilogy Box Set' by Rowena Cory Daniells
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