A Stroke Of Midnight   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

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We made the far doors, were through them, and had them closing behind us as the first ragged scream cut the air. If I could have taken him with us, I would have. For I would not have left anyone to the queen’s mercy.

Doyle suddenly shoved me behind him. I heard it a second later: running. A group of people running this way. Adair and Amatheon had no weapons to draw, so they gave me their bodies as living shields. I could not see around all the broad backs and drawn weapons. I had to wait, surrounded by men whom I no longer wished to put between me and danger. I needed guards that I didn’t like quite so much. I heard Galen’s voice, “Where’s Merry?” Amatheon and Adair almost slumped with relief on either side of me. I fought the urge to laugh, or cry, or just push everyone away so I could see. But we all waited for Doyle to tell us to move, or not.

The men farther from us parted like a curtain, and only then did Amatheon and Adair move to frame me instead of shield me. Galen and everyone that we had left in the room were in the hallway, coming toward us. Doyle was assuring them that I was fine.

Galen pushed his way through the other men and paused before hugging me. He laughed. “What have you guys been doing, playing in the mud?”

The three of us exchanged glances. “We were playing in the mud,” Adair said. “Amatheon was the mud.”

Galen frowned at him.

“Later,” I said. I had noticed a newly healed face among the guard: Onilwyn. “When did he join you?”

Galen seemed to understand who I meant. “We were running out to find you when he showed up.”

“Why didn’t you tell us what was happening?” Ivi asked. “We’d have grabbed on before Merry left so abruptly.”

“There was no time,” Doyle said.

“We barely touched them in time ourselves,” Frost said.

Rhys asked, “How did you know where we were?”

Kitto came out from behind the taller men. He had a short sword naked in his hand. He held up his arm with the moth tattoo on it. “I followed this.”

“And we followed Kitto,” Galen said, hugging me against his body, spreading the mud on more of himself.

“May I approach, Princess?” Onilwyn said.

I looked at his face and tried to see arrogance, or hatred, but he was trying for neutral and succeeding. “All right, yes.”

The other men made a sort of impromptu corridor for him to walk down. Galen kept one arm around me, so that I was tight to his side. Amatheon and Adair took up posts on either side of me; even unarmed and muddy they looked like the guards they were.

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