Crown of Iron (Book 1 of the Crown Trilogy)

Twenty-One

Pressing my chest to Nortus' back, I sink my heels into his sides. His hooves kiss the ground with rapid claps, and the crisp air stings my cheeks and burns my eyes. Despite the tears trailing down my face, I grip to the reins and focus on the trail ahead. I'm desperate to reach the regiments before it's too late.

Time is both my friend and foe. With every second, I lessen the divide between me and the Lucent army, and they draw closer to the trap awaiting them. There were more experienced riders in the camp, and soldiers who would hold their own better than me against the Stigian. But this is my army...my people, who I will one day vow to protect. I cannot risk leaving their fate in the hands of someone who doesn't wholeheartedly care about every single one of them.

Nortus slows as the ground shifts to soft grass and mud, and the smell of freshwater permeates in the air. The calm surface of Holly Lake reflects the night sky, speckling it with stars. I swear if I were to dive in, I'd be lost to the ether, floating through the inky heavens. On any other night I might consider just that, especially after the new trials I've faced.

On the far end of the lake, shadows of horse-drawn wagons move toward a cluster of single-story structures. Warm gold lights illuminate the caravan's path while their wheels grinding over pebbles join the nocturnal song of frogs and crickets. The army is closer to engaging in battle with the Stigian than I am to reaching them.

I spur Nortus forward, and he gallops through the sludge on the lake's bank. It would be simple to call out for the regiments to stop. The land is serene, and they would easily hear me. Therein lies the problem. My voice would carry so well the Stigian would know our intent to foil their plan. A simple task made impossible, leaving me with no choice but to catch up.

As Greer and the troops turn the last bend, I lean over Nortus and whisper, "Just a little faster, old boy."

Like the amazing beast he is, Nortus pushes forward with a renewed energy, and the distance between me and my target lessens.

"No, no, no," I say as the wagons stop and the soldiers climb out of the backs, taking formation to march the rest of the way into the town. I don't let up on Nortus until we are amidst the rows of troops, and I ask where to find Greer. I'm directed to the front of the line where the colonel sits upon her horse alongside Ulric.

I steer Nortus next to the officers.

Greer's eyes widen, and her cheeks burn red. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay at camp."

"The Stigian are closing in on you from both sides," I say, handing her the instructions from the strategy officers.

She skims the paper, crumples it, and dismounts her horse. "We move around the meadow on foot," she says to Ulric before turning back to me. "Take my horse and wait with the wagons on the other side of the lake."

I bite my lip and take the reins from her. "Yes, Colonel."

"It's for the best, Elle," Ulric says, sparing me an understanding glance before motioning for another soldier to grab his horse.

I know they mean well, but it doesn't make turning my back on them or the town beyond any easier.

The soldier caring for Ulric's horse informs the wagon drivers of Greer's orders, and the rest of the regiments march into the cropping of trees behind the farming town. The wagons turn around, heading back the way they came, and the other riders and I fall behind them.

Unease creeps over me; I'm fleeing while the others fight. This is how it has always been. There are those who shed blood for our kingdom and those who comfortably enjoy the freedom they fight for. I'm tired of freeloading as they sacrifice. I want to fight.