Flat on his back in the snow, Matt wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. His shoulder ached, his lungs burned. All the wind had been knocked out of him when he’d landed in the snow behind the wall.
He could hear Paul frantically calling his name over the sound of his heart roaring in his ears. Matt tried to croak a response, trying to push himself up onto his elbows and finding it hard—breathing was hard.
What the hell hit me? An arrow lay in the snow behind his head, one without a tip. There was no blood on his shoulder.
Matt heard the first peal of the alarm bell and managed to recover his voice.
“Paul! I’m all right. Stop ringing it.” He climbed to his feet and scooped up the arrow. The flight was black with a silver stripe, the tip blunted. Breathing was getting easier.
Paul’s boots made a racket as he jogged through the snow toward him. “Shit,” he panted as he drew up alongside Matt. “I saw you go flying and I figured we must ne under attack. What the h—” His eyes widened in the moonlight. “That’s an arrow. We are under attack.”
“It’s blunted,” Matt said, handing the arrow to him. “It’s a warning.” He went back to the wall, clambering up to the top again.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Having another look.” Matt hoisted himself up onto the top of the wall, gaze scything across the open snow pack.
He froze.
A broad-shouldered woman stood in the middle of the field of white, blonde hair limmed in silver moonlight, tumbling down over cloak-shrouded shoulders. She held a bow in both hands, pointed at the ground between her booted feet. Her chin lifted as Matt topped the wall and their eyes met across the distance.
He shivered, not quite flinching under that gaze.
“The arrow was a warning,” she called, her voice firm, commanding. “Come dawn, you will produce the Seers who lead your community. I will treat with them and no others. They are to meet me before your gates to speak on what the future holds.
“I mean no harm to you so long as long as my request is met. I only wish to talk, not to cause harm, but I will if I must.
“You have until dawn.”
Matt found his voice again as the woman turned to go. “Who are you?”
She looked back over her shoulder at him. “The Lady of the Rowan. Until tomorrow.”
She turned and walked away, vanishing into the brush.
“Matt?”
“Wake Thom and Marin,” Matt said, feeling like his soul had just been flayed open and left bare on the snow. “Tell them we have a problem.”
Well, guess she got his attention. This should be interesting.
Thanks for the update.