BOOK 3 of The Ostler's Boy Series
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Love. Duty. Valor.
Court & Class.
A pseudo-medieval romance through the eyes of a reckless princess.
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After Svana and her Knight, there was a Princess and her love of adventure.
Eliza Rose, the wildes...
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"Do you hear that?" I asked.
"Princess, since the moment I met you," Askar started.
I shook my head, "No," whispering.
"What?" He looked up at me. "No?"
"No, I–" I bunched my skirt, crouching in front of him. "No, do you hear that?" I asked. "I thought I–"
Something swooped over the veranda, then again in front of it, well above the lighted garland. A few ladies gasped; others snickered and laughed at the effect they thought was staged.
"How lovely," someone cracked. "We're to have a spectacle."
"Oh! And fireworks!" another cried.
There was a loud, angry boom from somewhere else. The hedges lit in a crimson haze, fading quickly to orange, yellow, then white. Fire; people started screaming.
Askar rose to his heels; he grabbed my arm and drew me toward him, shuffling me into the crook of his shape. "Run," he ordered. "We have to run. Find shelter."
"Where?" I asked, but I was too aware of the burning castle. Another explosion fell from the sky, and through the gleam, I saw little rods, like matches, soaring through the air. Then the shape of a haunting mechanism in their wake.
"Is that a dragon?!" someone screamed.
People were fleeing. They were falling into the dirt; the tables were pushed from their stations, food and candles fell everywhere. Men grumbled to their wives, others just ran. Askar grabbed my hand.
"Where is your armory?" he asked.
"T-There!" I pointed. "They're arrows," I declared. "They're shooting arrows, Ask!"
We sped for the Knight's Quarters, though Swords had already erupted from it and the castle. Some had bows, others blades, and they searched the smoke-ridden sky for monsters.
"They're wooden!" I yelled, though no one heard or cared. I sounded mad. "They're wooden!" I cried again. "They're baskets, made of wood; there's– There are riders inside! They're not dragons! They're men with fire!"
"Eliza! Come!" Askar begged. He rushed me into the barracks, shoving past every shape of bronze inside. "They're wooden baskets with riders in them," he reiterated for the men. "Arrows. Fire and arrows," he said. "Shoot the riders!"
I was searching every space. "Where is, where, Ser W-Willoughby!? Askar, where is Ser Willoughby? I don't see him anywhere!"
He didn't know. "He'll be somewhere else," he said. "Engaged already."
"I need to find him," I said. "I need to warn him. I need–"
He touched my shoulders at either side. "Ser Willoughby will be okay," he said. "You need to find somewhere safe to hide."
