Chapter 10: Pups

I did not go to the king.

Osmond had told me to, and I had every intention of obeying, until I heard the first scream from the south wing.

It was not a warrior's scream.

It was a child's.

"Tavia!" Osmond roared, but I was already running.

The nursery wing lay behind the great hall, a low stone building with round windows and painted wolves on the walls.

The door had been kicked in.

Inside, a woman in a nurse's apron stood in front of a row of cribs with a poker in both hands.

Three men in rough grey leathers stood in front of her.

They had the lean, scarred look of animals that eat what they kill.

One of them grinned and reached for the nearest crib.

"Hey," I said.

He turned.

I had Mort's Taser in my right hand, and I had never been so glad of an uncle in my life.

I shot him in the chest.

He went down in a convulsing heap, snarling around his teeth.

The second raider lunged for me.

I ducked under his arm and jammed the Taser against his ribs, and he folded over my shoulder.

The third one grabbed my braid.

The nurse hit him over the head with the poker.

He sat down hard on the stone, blinking, and she hit him again.

"Good," I said, breathing hard. "Good, thank you, that's very good."

"How many pups can you carry?" she said.

I looked at the cribs.

There were eleven of them, tiny, some barely walking, and every one of them was screaming.

"All of them," I said. "Where's the cellar?"

"Under the kitchen. Quick."

I took three in my arms and she took four, and the older ones, the toddlers, grabbed our skirts.

We ran down a stair behind the larder into the cold dark under the hall.

A stone room with a thick door opened off the bottom.

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