Tiern nearly laughed at the likelihood of that.
From clear in the other direction of town came a distant rumbling from the hills. The senior soldier’s eyes widened.
“What the seas . . . ?”
Tiern, the Lochlan soldiers, and Dovedell townspeople ran to see, spreading out and staring at the horizon. A chill that had nothing to do with winter ratcheted up Tiern’s back as moving dots rose over the hills straight toward them.
“Attack!” a townsman yelled. Others joined him, raising their sharpened sticks and bows, but Tiern and a few others hushed them.
“They’re not coming from the direction of Kalor!” Tiern shouted over the din.
They stared out, powerless to do anything except watch as the forces gained ground.
“We should take cover!” another townsman said.
“Wait,” said the commanding soldier. “They wear the bronze of Toresta.”
Murmurs rose up around them. “Toresta is an ally, aye?” “Should we trust them?”
Tiern pushed his way through to see better, and his eyes traveled to the end of the approaching party. A large group of them rode shining black horses, and wore all black clothing from head to toe.
“The Zandalee!” He jumped and punched the sky. “These are definitely allies!”
“Aye,” said the soldier. “And more Zorfinans behind them!”
The townsmen and soldiers sent up a great cheer of welcome, raising their fists in gratitude. As they got closer, Tierncouldn’t wait any longer. He sprinted up the hill toward the Zandalee. There were so many of them; Zandora must have brought the entire tribe! She and the two sisters Tiern knew all leaped down deftly from their horses. He ran to them and gathered the three of them in a great big hug.
Horses barreled past them. Fierce women circled them, eyes alight beneath their head coverings, making clucking sounds and high-pitched calls.
Zandora pulled away and laughed. “You will make us look soft.”
He dropped his arms, smiling hugely. The two sisters faced him on each side and both took to running hands over his light beard, shaking their heads and muttering in Zorfinan.
“They say a sweetling like you must keep his face young.”
Tiern rubbed his cheeks, unable to stop smiling. “I promise to shave just as soon as we take back our castle.” He looked at Zandora now, whose face had gone stony. His smile fell away as the dire situation came rushing back at him.
“Your royal lands have fallen?” she asked.
“Aye.” The ache inside him began anew. “And they killed our king and queen.”
Zandora gave a grim nod. “We will take back Lochlanach, I promise you. Prince Vito goes too far.”
Chapter
43
Vixie sat up, panting and disoriented, visions of cannons and blood still swirling in her mind. She peered around blearily and felt the gentle scratch of Wyneth’s hand at her back.
“Sh, love, go back to sleep.”
“Nay.” Vixie rubbed her eyes and pulled her legs crisscross on the mat she shared with her cousin. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She’d closed her eyes to try to rid herself of a headache. “How long have we been down here? It feels like days.”
“Half a day, at most,” said Harrison from the bench next to Wyneth. He leaned his elbows on his knees, a foot tapping nervously. Beside him, Lief paced from one end of the tunnelto the other, a mere five steps for him.
From across the way, Mrs. Rathbrook came to Vixie and knelt before her. “Is your head bothering you, dear?”
“Yes,” Vixie whispered.
