Page 18 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

Gathren felt a stab of guilt, because right now, it was likely the worst time to be at court, with an army that would advance as soon as the High King was dead. The deal she had made with the elves, of course, would not hold, because she was of no interest to the High Chieftain, so there would be no stopping the orcs. They would come, and this palace would fall, and she was not sure what would happen to a pretty little slip of an elf like Katil.

“I am only saying, it is not so bad as all of that,” said Katil. “I am not displeased with my life.”

“I think things may be growing more volatile, however,” said Gathren quietly.

Katil shook her head. “Oh, no, no, I have heard these rumors, and if it were true, you would not be here, would you? If orcs were really planning on coming to invade, you would stay far, far away from this place.”

Gathren felt that guilt in her twist. “Indeed,” she said finally. “Yes, that is quite sound reasoning.”

And that night, she awoke to the sounds of screams.

She got up, pulling a dressing gown (one of Iahir’s castoffs, actually, since she had not had any clothes made, she had taken to wearing his old things) and went to the window, and she could see the fires of the torches in the distance, hear the booms of the cannons and the patter of the gunfire. Even before she saw the first orc, she knew.

They had come already, before the High King was even dead.

She went into Iahir’s bedchamber, but he was not there.

He was guarding the High King for this hour of the night, of course.

She must get there to him, must get him to do it now. If she did not, the orc’s attack was likely doomed. If Findas lived, the elves would rally against the orcs and back the High King.

There was no time to lose.

She knew the palace better than when she had first come, but she was still not entirely sure exactly where the king’s chambers were.

She dressed and went into the hallway. It was not empty, but there were only a few elf men, carrying swords, going to and fro through the hallways.

They looked at her and there was murder in their eyes.

She made herself sound shrill and frail. “I am only looking for Iahir. I am frightened. Please, you must not take this out on me. I cannot control the other orcs. I had no notion of this!”

“That way,” said one of the elves, pointing toward a darkened hallway.

She began to rush towards it, but then she was stopped, arms grasping her at the elbow.

She turned, shocked, to see an elf there, glowering at her.

“The kingsguard needs no distraction from a woman now. He must be defending the king with his life. You will only be in the way.”

She jerked her elbow out of the elf’s grasp, going for her sword. But then she hesitated, thinking that fighting her way through this was not the way. And after all, there were a number of them, and only one of her.

She removed her hand from her sword, surveying the man, looking this way and that.

How was she going to get to Iahir?

6

IAHIR HEARD THE sounds of the approaching army and made a split-second decision that if he was going to kill the High King, the time was now.

He pushed open the door to the king’s bedchamber, thinking that they were very lucky that he’d managed to get two nights in a row on the king’s door.

When he’d first come back, after Marthlis had told him that they were going to kill the king in two weeks’ time, Iahir had checked the schedule, which was posted on a slate board outside of the breakfast room where the kingsguard broke their fast each morning, and noted that he was not scheduled to be guarding the king at night two weeks’ hence.

No matter.

He could trade with someone. It was done all the time.

He noted which guard was on the door that night and went to him. That guard’s name was Allinhril. Iahir told Allinhril that he was desirous of having a night off a week hence and asked if Allinhril would trade with him, and Allinhril agreed, but only if Iahir took both of his nights, which was why Iahir was here at all.