“It is the greater population to be feared,” Ryl added. “To be held in line.”
Breila nodded her head.
“Aye. That is correct.” A profound sadness crept into her voice as she carried on. “The citizens outnumber them by tens of thousands. Unlike those of the Estates, many of whom owe their very wealth and fealty to the throne, the citizens are unconstrained by such alliances. They seek to cull any rebellion before it rises. They have been killing with impunity. They burn families alive in their homes, slaughter men, women and children.”
“How is it that they came about you?” Ryl asked cautiously. He pushed a wave of comfort over the emotional woman.
Breila sighed, though her shoulders seemed to rise slightly as she continued.
“I have made it my life’s work to stay well informed. The information that has kept me alive in the past was delayed in reaching my ears this time,” she responded. Ryl could feel the anger swell in her body. Her chest rose and fell with the exaggerated breaths. “There are those who will talk willingly. There are those who give up information without understanding that they do so. The key is to listen. By the time word came that they were coming, there were but precious moments. Though, I believe many who work for me were able to flee, there were inevitably some who didn’t survive.”
She wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand.
“Where are you leading us?” Ryl posed the question. The road ahead was growing shorter with every passing step. “If the Estates share allegiance with the throne, is there safety there for us?”
“While, yes, it is true that a great many do, there are but a few who do so through veiled deceit,” Breila admitted. “They are neither indebted to nor purchase favor from the king.”
“And you’re sure they can be trusted?” Ryl was hesitant to place any more trust in an unknown benefactor.
“Without a doubt, my young friend.” She smiled. “For it is to my home that we return.”
Ryl found that he was not entirely surprised by the admission. Aelin gasped in response.
“You live there?” he cried.
“Aye. And I long for the comfort of a warm bath and a fine meal.” She laughed as she spoke.
The road they followed had descended at a shallow angle as they turned to the south. Ahead, Ryl could see the avenue exit into an open square. Though his view was obscured by the houses that lined the street, he could see several other roads exiting from the main intersection.
They slowed their horses to a walk as they approached the square. Though Ryl had never been there, he knew the intersection was likely a bustling point of congregation. So close to the high society, there were likely a bevy of street vendors hawking their precious wares as well as those who came to seek influence from those who lived in stations above that which they achieved.
It was eerie viewing the square devoid of any life or activity. They paused at the exit of the road they’d followed. The area was roughly thirty meters across and an equal width. Directly ahead, to the south, the road carried onward, leading toward the more industrious areas closer to the docks and market. Another road, the Kingsway, bisected the square, exiting east and westward, stretching the width of the kingdom.
To the right, an ornately sculpted wall ran the length of the open square. The carved stone looked out of place, more form than function. He repressed the review that even a child with a knack for climbing trees would find an easy purchase to scale the wall in no time.
There were none present at the gate. The shops and small cafes lining the square were shuttered and silent.
Ryl was nearly overtaken by a sudden wave of discomfort. He scanned the area with his mindsight, easily confirming the vacancy of the image. Still, the uneasiness prevailed. The imagined watchfulness bored into him here with a greater potency than he’d experienced anywhere within the city.
He turned to voice his concern to Breila. Without warning, she spurred her horse forward, entering the square at speed, angling toward the entrance to the Estates to the west. Ryl’s mount surged forward to make up lost ground.
As they committed to their path through the square, the cause for his concern became alarmingly clear.
A pair of soldiers with swords drawn burst from the door of a shuttered cafe near the entrance to the Estates. The soldiers were dressed in a fashion that was foreign to Ryl. Their pants and tunics were plain in nature, a muted, drab grey. The obvious bulge under their shirts hinted at the armor disguised underneath. Their clothing bore no insignia denoting their allegiance.
They barked orders in a tone that demanded obedience. Breila spurred her horse into a gallop in response. Soldiers streamed from the surrounding buildings that lined both the northern and southern sides of the square. The snap and twang of bowstrings releasing their arrows showed their intention. Ryl screamed in warning, though it was too late.
The identity of the soldiers was a mystery to Ryl. He knew nothing else than that they were not the guard from Cadsae Proper.
They had come prepared for a fight.
Were they soldiers from the boats?
Why would they fire on riders dressed in the garb of a Cadsae Proper guard?
Ryl’s instantaneous inspection and introspection were cut short. Arrows streamed toward them. The attack had been planned, calculated, and coordinated with purpose. The first wave, screaming from the southern side of the square, was aimed at Breila and Aelin in the lead. The bolts from the northern side were aimed at his right flank. The angles of attack were plotted to avoid collateral damage.
Ryl cursed himself as the heat of the alexen burned through his veins. He should not have underestimated the feeling of discomfort. He should have seen the attack coming. His
