The Gray Wolf Throne Read Online Free
Author: Cinda Williams Chima
herself, raisa kicked the door of the tack room, hard enough to splinter it. Ghost tossed his head, yanking at his tether. Furious tears burned in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks as she turned back to Byrne.
“Amon Byrne is better than you, better than me; too valuable to throw away, and you know it,” she said, her voice trembling.
“He is—and always has been—my very best friend.”
“Then trust him,” Byrne said. “if anyone can get out of the city, he will.”
raisa rubbed away her tears with the heels of her hands.
“Captain Byrne, if anything happens to Amon, i will never, ever forgive you.”
17
T H e G r Ay wo L F T H ro n e
Byrne took hold of her shoulders, gripping them hard, the light from the lanterns gilding his face. “what you can do for Amon now is survive,” he said, his voice husky and strange.
“Don’t let them win, your Highness.”
raisa strode back across the stable yard toward the inn, her mind churning with worry about Amon and the Gray wolves, still trying to devise some kind of rescue plan.
it was after closing time, and with any luck, the taproom would have cleared. She’d pack her few belongings and they’d be on their way.
when she looked ahead, she saw esmerell and Tatina hustling toward her through the rain, lifting their skirts above the mucky ground.
Great, she thought, rolling her eyes. Just what i need.
Then two of the card players raisa had noticed earlier burst out the back door, charging after the ladies at a dead run.
raisa’s mind grappled with what she was seeing, and came to a quick conclusion. The men were thieves after all, and likely had seen the purse the wealthy Ardenine ladies have been waving around.
“Look out behind you!” raisa yelled, sprinting forward, yanking her dagger free.
The women didn’t look back, but increased their speed, running faster than raisa would have expected. The card players were yelling something as they ran. Something raisa couldn’t make out. She heard the stable door bang open, then shouts and pounding feet behind her.
“Get behind me!” she shouted as the ladies closed the distance between them. But then something slammed into her, throwing 18
i n T H e B o r D e r L A n D S
her sideways to the ground. She rolled to her feet in time to see the Ardenine ladies go down under the card players.
edon Byrne seized raisa’s shoulders in a viselike grip and held her fast.
it took a moment for raisa to gather breath enough to speak.
“what are you doing?” she spluttered, struggling to free herself. She was soaked through, muddy and shivering, her teeth chattering.
Slowly, the guards disentangled themselves and stood. The ladies lay flat on their backs, unmoving, blood and rain soaking their fancy dresses.
run through by the card players.
“Good work,” edon Byrne said gruffly, nodding at them.
“But next time don’t let them get so close to the princess heir.” The card players yanked their blades free, wiping them on the ladies’ voluminous skirts. one of them knelt and efficiently searched the women. He came up with three knives and a small framed picture. He scanned the picture, then mutely extended it toward raisa.
it was a portrait of raisa, done for her name day.
Byrne kicked something away from the two bodies, stooped and picked it up with two fingers.
it was a dagger, delicate and feminine and deadly sharp.
19
C H A p T e r T wo
Picking over
old Bones
Han Alister encountered more traffic than he anticipated on the road to Fetters Ford. Hollow-eyed refugees streamed north as Gerard Montaigne’s army scorched the countryside to the south.
They looked witch-fixed, some of them, stunned by calamity, still dressed in the ruined finery that said they were bluebloods.
it seemed to Han that all of Tamron was on the move—
country folk seeking refuge in the cities, and city dwellers fleeing to the countryside. How likely was it that he could find one
“Amon Byrne is better than you, better than me; too valuable to throw away, and you know it,” she said, her voice trembling.
“He is—and always has been—my very best friend.”
“Then trust him,” Byrne said. “if anyone can get out of the city, he will.”
raisa rubbed away her tears with the heels of her hands.
“Captain Byrne, if anything happens to Amon, i will never, ever forgive you.”
17
T H e G r Ay wo L F T H ro n e
Byrne took hold of her shoulders, gripping them hard, the light from the lanterns gilding his face. “what you can do for Amon now is survive,” he said, his voice husky and strange.
“Don’t let them win, your Highness.”
raisa strode back across the stable yard toward the inn, her mind churning with worry about Amon and the Gray wolves, still trying to devise some kind of rescue plan.
it was after closing time, and with any luck, the taproom would have cleared. She’d pack her few belongings and they’d be on their way.
when she looked ahead, she saw esmerell and Tatina hustling toward her through the rain, lifting their skirts above the mucky ground.
Great, she thought, rolling her eyes. Just what i need.
Then two of the card players raisa had noticed earlier burst out the back door, charging after the ladies at a dead run.
raisa’s mind grappled with what she was seeing, and came to a quick conclusion. The men were thieves after all, and likely had seen the purse the wealthy Ardenine ladies have been waving around.
“Look out behind you!” raisa yelled, sprinting forward, yanking her dagger free.
The women didn’t look back, but increased their speed, running faster than raisa would have expected. The card players were yelling something as they ran. Something raisa couldn’t make out. She heard the stable door bang open, then shouts and pounding feet behind her.
“Get behind me!” she shouted as the ladies closed the distance between them. But then something slammed into her, throwing 18
i n T H e B o r D e r L A n D S
her sideways to the ground. She rolled to her feet in time to see the Ardenine ladies go down under the card players.
edon Byrne seized raisa’s shoulders in a viselike grip and held her fast.
it took a moment for raisa to gather breath enough to speak.
“what are you doing?” she spluttered, struggling to free herself. She was soaked through, muddy and shivering, her teeth chattering.
Slowly, the guards disentangled themselves and stood. The ladies lay flat on their backs, unmoving, blood and rain soaking their fancy dresses.
run through by the card players.
“Good work,” edon Byrne said gruffly, nodding at them.
“But next time don’t let them get so close to the princess heir.” The card players yanked their blades free, wiping them on the ladies’ voluminous skirts. one of them knelt and efficiently searched the women. He came up with three knives and a small framed picture. He scanned the picture, then mutely extended it toward raisa.
it was a portrait of raisa, done for her name day.
Byrne kicked something away from the two bodies, stooped and picked it up with two fingers.
it was a dagger, delicate and feminine and deadly sharp.
19
C H A p T e r T wo
Picking over
old Bones
Han Alister encountered more traffic than he anticipated on the road to Fetters Ford. Hollow-eyed refugees streamed north as Gerard Montaigne’s army scorched the countryside to the south.
They looked witch-fixed, some of them, stunned by calamity, still dressed in the ruined finery that said they were bluebloods.
it seemed to Han that all of Tamron was on the move—
country folk seeking refuge in the cities, and city dwellers fleeing to the countryside. How likely was it that he could find one
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