The Cadet of Tildor

CHAPTER 10





Shrill, frightened yells filled the air. Guests stampeded toward the door. Porcelain cascaded to the floor and crunched underfoot. Bodyguards, shaken from their trance, shouted to their charges, their raised voices blending.

“Close the window shutter.” Savoy’s cold command rose above the noise.

Renee spun toward the far wall. Glass fragments littered the floor beneath the broken window, its shutter ajar. Another arrow whistled inside, bursting a wine cask and feeding the panic. The royal guests pressed against the door, fists pounding the unyielding oak. Someone must have sabotaged the lock, Renee realized with indrawn breath. It wouldn’t be long before the horde presented a target so large that even the most inexperienced shooter couldn’t miss.

Sasha dashed to the exit with the rest.

“No.” Renee grabbed her arm. “Get to a corner!”

Before they could move, a large man barreled past, growling and shoving bodies from his way. His paw caught Renee’s head and threw her, like a rag doll, against Sasha. They stumbled back, knocking over lit candles. Sasha doused the infant flames before they nipped her dress, while Renee regained the balance a stronger soldier would never have lost.

A few paces away, Savoy overturned a side table and dragged a protesting King Lysian behind it for cover. The king struggled, but Savoy kept him pinned. Renee watched, dimly aware that she couldn’t have done that either.

A chorus of wails rose beside the door. Half the bodyguards threw themselves against it, as if their shoulders could crack the heavy wood. The other half found cover for their wards and awaited rescue. No one worked together. Bloody gods, they likely had never even met each other before now. No wonder the arrangement had irritated Savoy.

Another arrow sliced into the room. And another. A woman’s scream tore the air.

“De Winter.” Savoy’s voice was steady, almost bored. “The window.” He was shielding the Crown and could not move a span without the young king attempting to escape.

Sasha grabbed Renee’s shirt. “Don’t leave me.”

Renee swallowed. Savoy was right. “Stay flat,” she whispered, untangling her friend’s fingers. She slithered across the carpet. Bits of pudding and broken pottery riddled the floor. A sharp edge of glass ripped her sleeve and sank into her forearm. She reached the window and crouched beneath it. Sweat beaded on her lip. The arrows came fast now, a rain of shafts that poured into the marooned room. Most crashed into walls and clattered down. Some drew screams of pain. Renee took a breath. She had to close the window shutter. And to reach it, she’d bring her body into the line of firing. Focus on the task. The window shutter. Close the shutter.

Renee pulled off her coat and popped up for an instant to throw the cloth over the window’s jagged remains. She crouched again as an arrow sliced in, shattering a vase instead of piercing her temple.

“Stay down,” Savoy spat.

“I can’t see from here.”

“I can. The shutter swings in from outside. Extend your hand up and out to feel for the shutter’s bottom. I will guide you.”

Renee grabbed a napkin from the floor and wrapped it about her hand. She listened and moved, trusting his eyes to be hers. The orders were simple and calm, and she repeated each one in her mind. Reach up. That’s the base. Grip. Good. Now pull. Nothing moved. Savoy repeated the command, but, reaching overhead as she was, Renee could not budge the heavy metal sheet.

“I can get it,” King Lysian growled at Savoy. “Let me up.”

Savoy ignored him. “You must grasp farther out for better leverage. Stay down until I say, cadet.”

Renee crept to a new position, her face flushed with shame more than fear. Alec could have moved the shutter. Any of the guard—

“De Winter. Pay attention.” Savoy’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Rise and reach on my mark.” Heartbeats ticked, arrows flew through the window, tickling the edge of Renee’s vision, a drop of sweat dripped into the corner of her mouth. “Now!”

Rising to her full height, Renee reached out through the shattered glass, grasped the shutter with both hands, and swung it closed. It banged shut just as another arrow thudded against it. And another. And a third.

Renee blinked. Nothing more entered the room.

It was over.

She sagged to the floor, breathing hard.

Around her, the movement took on a pattern. Someone must have unjammed the door, because the guests were gone. Fisker’s troop of the Palace Guard, and what must have been all other free guards in the palace, stormed inside. Someone escorted Sasha out. Tear tracks stained her cheeks. Renee wanted to apologize for leaving her, but by the time she found her voice, her friend had disappeared. Two soldiers who knew their business collected the king, covering his body with theirs as they ushered him out. A woman in a captain’s uniform, the senior guardsman in the room, interrogated Savoy, periodically turning her head to issue orders.

“Strong work, cadet.”

Renee blinked. The captain now stood above her, offering her a hand. Renee scrambled to her feet and stood at attention.

“At ease. You’ve earned it.” The woman motioned to the door. “We seized the maid who exposed the window and stuck a bit of clay into the door lock. She had orders from the Vipers.” A burst of yelling tore the captain’s attention away from Renee, and she tilted her head to where Savoy stood smiling blandly at a ranting Fisker.

“Incompetent bastard.” Spittle flew from the guardsman’s mouth and he shook his four-fingered fist in the air. “I’ll see you held accountable.”

“Mmm.” Savoy snapped off the arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder. “I tremble at your importance nowadays, Senior Palace Guardsman Fisker.”

The captain rubbed her temple. “Excuse me, cadet, but I must prevent Servant Savoy and Guardsman Fisker from shredding each other to ribbons.”

“They’re acquainted?”

“Eh?” The captain pulled her gaze from the men. “Oh, them. Fisker claims Savoy cost him a finger.”

Renee stared at the familiar scarred stump. “Did he?”

The captain chuckled. “I believe Junior Guardsman Fisker once fell from his horse and cut his hand because Cadet Savoy loosened the saddle girth. But it was embarrassment, not Cadet Savoy, that kept him from attending the Healer until the small gash festered to a problem.” She shook her head. “Guardsman Fisker’s duty is his life, cadet, and Commander Savoy has cost him his pride too often. Between Vipers, the Family, and Commander Savoy, I’m unsure whom Guardsman Fisker hates more. And,” she added as Savoy grinned at Fisker’s reddening face, “that overgrown adolescent feeds the fire each chance he gets.” She shook her head. “Make certain the Healer checks you,” the captain said, nodding at the cuts on Renee’s arm before turning to prevent a brawl.

Overgrown adolescent. Renee almost laughed. Then grimaced. You didn’t laugh on the heels of battle. Did you?

Renee let herself out, wondering why her hands had only now started to tremble.