Chapter 21

Arten lowered his crossbow, giving Cillian a look filled with hate, anger, and disgust. The leader of the guard rode forward.

Suddenly, Arten snapped up his weapon and fired it at Cillian.

The old soldier yelled a warning and Cillian ducked to the side. A sharp pain pierced his upper arm and he cried out in agony. Cillian saw the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. He whirled around to see if Arten was preparing to fire again, the sound of many arrows hissing through the air, but realized he did not have to worry.

Before he fell to the ground, Arten resembled an archer’s practice dummy with at least two dozen arrows sticking out of him. Then he was dead, lying on the ground just feet from his brother’s body.

Men surrounded Cillian, tending to his wound, pressing a cloth to it, telling him to lie down, close his eyes, and take deep breaths. With so many commands at once, Cillian grew confused, not knowing what to do.

“How is he?” A woman’s voice rose above the din.