Queen of the Night (The Revanche Cycle Book 4) by Craig Schaefer Read Free Book Online Page A

easy reach. Traveling in the countryside by night, it never hurt to put caution first.
    The horses trotted closer, their coats matted and heads hung low. Their human cargo didn’t look any healthier: a dozen people in rags and long faces, some children, some elderly, squeezed into the swaying cart like starving chickens in a wire coop. Three of the men gripped stout clubs whittled from tree branches, their shoulders tensing as the wagon neared.
    Renata frowned and held up her open hands. “Evening, friends. Nothing to fear here. We’re just travelers, bound for Mirenze.”
    The driver reined his horses in. One of the half-starved creatures let out a rasping whinny and clopped a hoof on the broken road.
    “I’ll fear for you then,” he said, leaning over to spit on the ground. “Save yourself a trip and turn around. Mirenze’s gone bad. You won’t get in, anyway. City’s closed.”
    “Closed?” Renata stepped up to the cart. “And what do you mean, gone bad?”
    “Somebody blew up the Ducal Arch, killed about three hundred people, and the governor copped to being behind it. Said the Empire’s getting ready to invade. The whole damn city’s gone mad.”
    A woman behind him, leaning against the sideboard, wiped her eyes with a balled-up fist. “They’ve got gangs going door to door, rounding up anyone with Murgardt blood and throwing ’em out. My husband’s Murgardt. Been on the city watch for fifteen years, loyal to the bone. They gave us two hours to leave and stole everything but the clothes on our backs. Said they had to ‘confiscate’ our belongings for the ‘war effort.’ One of the men who forced us out was our next-door neighbor.”
    “I was born and bred in Mirenze,” the driver muttered, “never did nothing to nobody. Doesn’t matter. People are scared, and when people get scared they get stupid. A friend of mine got cornered on his way out of town; they told him he looked like a traitor, like that’s something you can see in a man’s face. Busted every tooth in his head and damn near killed him. Anyway, city’s locked down tighter than a virgin’s knees, waiting for the siege. Fine by me. I hope they rot behind those walls.”
    “I’m…I’m sorry,” Renata said, hating how empty the words sounded.
    The driver didn’t say a word. He gave her a snort of disgust and shook the reins, spurring the tired horses onward. She watched as the refugee cart rambled down the road and into the darkness.
    “Well,” Sykes said, “that’s just peachy. I was wondering how this job could get any worse, and there you go, question answered.”
    Gallo rested a gentle hand on Renata’s shoulder.
    “I know I’m wasting my breath, signorina, but slipping past a siege line is a tall order. And people caught doing it are generally hung as spies. We didn’t bargain for this kind of danger.”
    She turned toward him, her face strained as she fought against a wave of despair. She took a breath. Clenched her hands at her sides and let it out slowly.
    “I only know one thing. My fiancé is behind that wall.”
    She raised her hand, pointing to the far horizon.
    “Follow me if you want. Leave if you want. But I’m going in there, and I’m bringing him back alive. Felix is waiting for me. He needs me, and I won’t let him down.”
    “I’m with you,” Achille said. Standing with shoulders squared and his chin high, though his face was ashen.
    Gallo chuckled and shook his head. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, don’t you? I need to meet this Felix just so I can warn him about you.”
    Sykes and Lydda shared a look. She put one hand on her hip, a silent challenge. Sykes let out a tired sigh.
    “Fine,” he said, “we’ll do it for the bragging rights.”
    “It’ll make a hell of a drinking story,” Lydda added.
    “Truth. Let’s just hope it’s not a toast over our gravestones.”
    “All right then.” Renata looked down the road. “Let’s invade Mirenze.”

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