The Gates of Winter by Mark Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

to the bottom of this.” The king turned toward Beltan. “Nephew, I want you and Sir Durge to see if—”
    The king's words were lost as another explosion sundered air and stone. The concussion was instantaneous, slapping Travis to the ground next to Grace. The sky went dark, then sharp fragments of stone began falling in a deadly hail. Before he could scramble to his feet, a crushing weight landed on top of him.
    At first he thought it was a rock, pressing the life out of him. Then he groped, feeling hard muscles, and realized it was Durge. The Embarran had thrown his body over Travis and Grace, protecting them from the falling stone.
    Travis clenched his jaw, waiting for the second explosion. Hadn't there been two when the runespeakers' spire fell? However, the second report never came. The sound of thunder rolled away; the
ping
of falling stones slowed and ceased. For an awful moment there was silence. Then a new sound rose on the air all around: wails of pain and confusion.
    Travis couldn't breathe. Durge wasn't a rock, but he was every bit as solid as one.
    “Durge,” Grace said. “Off.”
    The knight scrambled up, then reached down to help Grace stand; her riding gown was caked with mud. She searched around, looking for Tira, but the girl was safe, clinging to Melia's skirt. Travis staggered to his feet. He might have fallen back down, but strong hands gripped him.
    “Are you injured?” Vani said, her gold eyes holding him as surely as her hands. Her black leathers were spotless, as if she had simply dodged the falling debris.
    “I'm fine. What about everyone else?”
    Travis turned. One of the blocky guard towers that stood above the castle gate tilted at an odd angle. A hole yawned in its side like a mouth full of broken teeth; black smoke poured out its upper windows as if it were a chimney. The tunnel through which all of them had run just moments ago was now half-filled with rubble. If they had been in there . . .
    He tried not to think about it. Most of them were scuffed and battered, and Lord Farvel was trembling and could not keep his feet without Falken's assistance. However, after a moment, it became clear the only one who was actually hurt was King Boreas.
    “It's nothing,” the king said with a grunt as Grace probed the rapidly growing lump on the top of his head. Blood matted his black hair. “It was a pebble, that's all. You needn't fuss.”
    The king's credibility was immediately countered by the way his knees buckled. Beltan caught him under the armpits to keep him from falling.
    “You could have a concussion,” Grace said, and Travis doubted she noticed that she had forgotten to call him
Your Majesty
. She shut her eyes, then opened them again. “In fact, you do. It's mild. You're not in serious danger—as long as you lie still and do nothing.”
    Boreas started to protest, only then he doubled over and vomited into the muck.
    “You there!” Beltan called to a trio of guardsmen running toward them. “Help the king return to the keep.” Beltan turned toward Teravian, who stood nearby, shoulders hunched. “Your Highness, there are likely to be intruders in the castle. You must guard the king. Take him to his chamber, summon more men. Whatever you do, protect him with your life.”
    These words seemed to astonish the young prince, but after a moment he nodded and squared his shoulders, and it seemed a light ignited in his dark eyes. “I'll protect him, cousin.” He moved to Boreas, taking Beltan's place. “Come, Father.”
    “Away, boy. I must see to my people.”
    “This is a matter for your warriors now. You must leave it to them.”
    “Yes, my warriors . . .” His eyelids fluttered.
    “Keep close watch on him, Your Highness,” Grace said. “Make him drink water. And don't let him fall asleep.”
    Teravian nodded, and Boreas did not protest further as the prince led him toward the arch to the upper bailey. The men-at-arms followed, bearing Lord Farvel with them.
    Grace