Annath nodded, and his men urged their horses forward. Dapple whinnied, skittering away.
Ernaut’s grin was full of wicked resolve. He slid off his horse, the moist ground squishing under his boots. “I’ll do much better than just try, Reike.”
“Leave Shield Stammek alone,” piped Egard. Bow drawn, he aimed it at Ernaut, but his arm was shaking.
“Don’t be a fool, Egard,” Reike snapped. “Stay behind.”
“Listen to yer elders, pup. Move aside,” Ernaut chuckled, sauntering toward them. “Unless ye want to lose a limb.”
Egard’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he didn’t budge. Pursing his mouth, Dietric took a step forward to stand beside Egard. Jaun’s hand moved to the knife at his belt.
“Sniveling idiots,” Ernaut sneered. A snap of wood preceded a shocked cry, and Egard’s bow lay shattered on the ground. A gleaming blade rested next to his throat. “Here’s some advice. Next time, don’t hesitate.”
Growling, Dietric pounced at the man. Ernaut sidestepped, slapping his back with his sword.
“No!” Trisha gasped.
Steel flew. A clang rang out, and Ernaut grunted, staggering back. Reike stepped before Dietric.
“How dare you! He’s just a boy!” Reike snapped, sword raised. “Dietric, are you all right?” she asked, eyes fixed on Ernaut.
“I’m… I’m fine,” Dietric muttered as Jaun and Egard helped him upright.
Swiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Ernaut smiled and spat. Sunlight glinted in his eyes. “Want to teach your pups, do you? Shall we demonstrate?”
“Happy to give you another scar,” replied Reike.
A sharp clang as their swords met, and Trisha involuntarily gulped. She wanted to help, but there wasn’t enough time toprep the bow, and the Wolfbach soldiers kept approaching. Dapple skittered a few dancing steps away. Calves pressed against his flank, she ordered her horse to hold his place. Terrified as she was, Trisha was no sheep to be herded as others willed.
But what could she do?
As if to answer, the warm power within her bones sparked. Trisha’s fingers pressed into the leather, knuckles whitening. She couldn’t. Could she?
If so, not this openly at least.
The gray-bearded clan chief sat on his saddle, lips pulled back. Surely Annath wouldn’t be willing to risk the Warlord’s ire this close to Moorhafen? An image of the fight between him and Blainor resurfaced. Her gaze flicked to Reike and the three boys, lingering on the red-haired Dietric. If something happened to Fjorten’s son, how would he and Byne react? What would Blainor say?
“Chief Wolfbach,” Trisha shouted. “Call your men away!”
“It’s in hisright, bard.” Annath’s attention remained on his nephew and Reike as they circled each other. They would clash something fierce—it was inevitable. “Stammek accepted.”
Trisha’s mouth thinned.Curse these northerners. Why did they insist on solving every argument with blades? Unbuckling the lyre case’s flap, she whispered, “You must drop me off.”
Dapple’s ears flattened, fretful. He tossed his head, unwilling to obey.
Trisha bent low. “I need a distraction.”
Dapple let out a tentative whinny.
The soldiers were getting closer.
“Dapple,” she hissed.
With a sharp neigh, the horse reared. Trisha didn’t even need to pretend to yelp. Releasing the reins, she slid off the saddle and, with the sky mocking her, fell. A sense of vertigoassaulted her, the leather of her lyre’s case held tightly in her arms. Impact with the ground knocked the wind out of her lungs, and for a moment, she lay motionless. The wet, numbing grass pressed against her woolen shirt seeping through the fabric. Groaning, Trisha glared at her horse. His warm muzzle dropped, Dapple blew air over her face, ears twitching in silent question.
“I’m all right,” she muttered and staggered up. Her back stung, but gods forbid if her instrument was out of tune. Trisha’s heart pounded in her ears so loudly that it drowned out all other noises. Beyond, Reike and Ernaut had paused, but as though her getting to her feet was a silent sign, they moved. Their swords clashed, clanging as they met. No time to think more. She pulled the instrument out, dropped the case, and hit a chord.
For a split second, everything hung still. Then, like a wave, her power surged. The sound spread through the valley—too loud, too jarring. It whipped across the ground, bending the grass and bowing the narrow willows. Everything stilled: the breeze, the movement, even the birdsong.
