Shards of a Broken Crown (Serpentwar Book 4)

Pug yanked back his own line of power, disrupting the supporting matrix of energy. He sensed a terrible rage from the other side of the rift.

 

“Get out!” he shouted, and as he turned to run he realized he could barely move. Tomas threw his shield over his back and put his left arm around Pug, nearly picking him up.

 

They ran from the building as Ryana landed. “I called her,” said Tomas. The ground began to shake as they climbed aboard the dragon. As she launched herself into the sky, a terrible crack of thunder came from within the building.

 

The dragon beat her wings and gained altitude, and Pug turned to watch the scene below. A great wind was being drawn to the building and the building began to shudder and shake. A crack of timber heralded the roof shattering, collapsing into the building.

 

Miranda said, “Everything’s being sucked into the rift!” Pug said, “I hope not everything.”

 

Nakor said, “It will balance out, but there will be a very big hole in the ground to fill when it’s done.”

 

A thunderous rumble sounded, and as Nakor predicted, a huge hole in the ground appeared and the rest of the building fell into it. A giant cloud of dust shot heavenward, and more ground fell into the hole. Then the rumbling stopped.

 

“It is over?” asked Miranda.

 

Pug closed his eyes and rested his head upon Tomas’s back. “It will never be over,” he said.

 

 

 

 

 

A ragged boy ducked under the outstretched arms of a guard who shouted, “Hey!”

 

“I gotta talk ta the Sheriff!” he shouted as he dodged by.

 

Dash turned to see the youngster scampering up the stairs. He stood on the rampart over the city gates, watching the Keshians deploy in the predawn darkness. “What do you want?” he demanded.

 

“Trina says to tell you, the South Palace Gate! Now!”

 

Instantly Dash knew he had overlooked other agents inside the palace. The South Palace Gate was the entrance used by tradesmen making deliveries directly to the palace. It opened on the large marshaling yard used to train Calis’s Crimson Eagles; it also provided direct access to the one portion of the palace that was unprotected by walls and gates. Should the Keshians get through that entrance to the city, they would not only be in the city, they would also be in the palace. And most of the city’s defenders would be in the wrong place.

 

Dash shouted to Gustaf, “South Palace Gate!”

 

Gustaf had a flying company, a company ready to run to any point in the line and reinforce, and they were off as soon as Dash shouted the location.

 

Turning to an officer nearby, Dash said, “Keep things here under control. Until their agents report the gate open, they’ll go through the charade of asking for surrender one more time.”

 

Dash hurried down the stairs and chased after Gustaf and his men. He ran through the streets until he could hear the sound of fighting. “Where is the palace guard?” he demanded.

 

Gustaf said, “They were ordered up to support the main gate.”

 

“Who gave that order?” asked Dash.

 

“I thought you did,” replied the constable.

 

“When we find out who gave that order, we’ll have found our poisoner.”

 

Dash and his constables raced through the street to the north-most entrance to the palace and found the gate unattended. He motioned for the men to run to the left, around the stables, and into the marshaling yard from the north. At the far end of the marshaling yard he saw a brawl taking place in front of the south gate. He had ridden wagons through that gate when working for Roo Avery what seemed like years before, in a different life, but never before had the marshaling yard seemed so vast.

 

As he reached a point halfway across the open stretch of ground he saw the struggle was nearly decided. Old men, boys, and a few men of fighting age stood toe-to-toe with armed mercenaries, trained killers who were dispatching them with cold-blooded efficiency.

 

Standing before the huge bar that kept the gate closed was Trina, a sword in one hand and a dagger in another. A bleeding man at her feet told Dash that he had already paid the price of trying to get by the determined woman.

 

The mercenaries at the gate were quickly disposing of the thieves, and Dash tried to will himself to be faster. He was twenty yards away when he saw a burly man with a beard strike down a young thief—barely more than a boy— then turn to join his companion facing Trina.

 

The first man before her struck an overhand blow, which she blocked high, leaving her guard open. The burly man stepped under and drove the point of his sword into her stomach.

 

“No!” Dash cried as he ran right into the two men without slackening speed. He carried both of them away and down in a heap. He struck out with his sword, killing the bigger man as he lay on the ground, then rolled over to come to his feet facing the first man who had struck at Trina.

 

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