Caste had been unable to tear his eyes away as Judd, Verne and Suvau dropped from the wall. He’d leaned over the edge, watching their bodies fly through the air, his stomach lurching before they each made landfall, tumbling and rolling in the earth.

  “I’ll be damned…he made it!” Sir Fereak shook his head. “No matter his humble origins, you’ve got to give him credit for his bravery.”

  “Or stupidity.” Caste’s spine had gone into hiding.

  “Ready the trebuchet!”

  Caste looked up. “You promised Judd he would have time!”

  “And he’ll have all I can give but I am charged with the defence of this wall and by Sir Omra and all those knights who followed after him, I will do my duty.” Sir Fereak barked. “Get out of here, cleric. There’s nothing more you can do.”

  Caste couldn’t argue with that, scampering from the top of the wall to the stairs, fleeing through the armoury and the barracks of the fort until he was in the lower bailey. He took to the slope that would lead him down to the village and was nearing the bottom when an enormous shout echoed from the soldiers and he could hear cheering. Caste clambered up the side of a house, using crates to balance and arched his neck, peering out over the wall of the village. The hydra’s body was slumped on the ground, unmoving and, judging by the shouts of the soldiers, dead.

  He stared, stunned and more than a little confused.

  How had a barely middle class born son of a fisherman been able to slay a hydra?

  Caste’s mind, which liked a conundrum above almost all else, was mulling over it when something screamed overhead and crashed into the ground.

  “Meteors from the mountain! Run!”

  “Meteors?” Caste looked up, seeing more and more flaming rocks hurtle over the wall, striking village, farmland and mountain. One destroyed a building near him, the force of it knocking Caste backwards. He gasped for air from his evacuated lungs and sat up, the building already burning, chewing its way through wooden structures, beams and the thatch of the roof. “Thatch…the library!”

  Without any thought, just pure instinct, he turned and sprinted up the slope.

  Not the burning in his legs or tightening of his lungs could stop his frantic ascent, running across the lower and upper bailey, taking the servant’s entrance and following it without care for the darkness, fighting with the tapestry to emerge on the other side. The doors to the library were open and he darted for them, stopping when he heard voices.

  “…you dare touch me!”

  “You think you have the right to deny me? You are a servant! A slave! You must submit to my will! Stop struggling!”

  “I will not let you have me! You have no right at all!”

  “I have every right and I will take it. All of it, until you’re good for no one you good for nothing but this, wench! Argh!”

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  Caste flinched at the sound of pain, suspecting that Emeri had just landed a blow in a rather sensitive position. He inched forward, seeing Emeri putting a chair between herself and the man who was bent over, his dark hair tied back from his face. Though Caste had not laid eyes on him before, he had no doubt that this was Jerom, Ermo Kenet’s son.

  “You’re going to pay for that…after I’ve broken you!”

  “All you’re going to get out of me is the satisfaction of a whipping!” Emeri cried, unable to reach the door as Jerom kept her cornered. “I swear, I would rather die than give myself to you!”

  “How noble! You really think you’re the same as us? Able to reason and argue? You’re a bit of flesh that I can do with what I like…and if you don’t, then I swear it’s not you who will suffer.”

  Caste blinked, his chest tight and his throat closing over.

  Emeri trembled mightily. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I will bring charge against you father and mother…and I will make you watch as they are both whipped until there’s no skin left on their backs!”

  “You can’t! They’ve never done anything in defiance! They’re innocent!”

  “What would their word count against mine? I swear, unless you allow me to do whatever I want with you and to you, I will bleed your parents until their screams can be heard by everyone in Fort Omra!”

  Emeri’s eyes lowered and closed, her shoulders bowed in defeat. Caste silently yelled at her that Suvau and Yolana would take any beating to ensure their daughter’s safety but knew Emeri had already thought of it and dismissed it. She would not allow it to happen.

  “Very well…”

  Jerom chuckled and advanced on her. “I knew you’d see it my way…now…stand still.”

  Caste closed his eyes, his fingers scrunching tightly into fists. He could hear the tear of fabric, whimpers Emeri could not suppress and the creak of furniture as Jerom pressed her against something hard and unyielding.

  “Not a word, you hear… you will be silent and you will submit!”

  Emeri sobbed and Jerom’s hand slapped her across the cheek, causing Caste’s eyes to fly open. He charged into the library, throwing a chair out of the way and thrust himself between Jerom and Emeri, the latter scrambling back from where she had been cast across a table. Caste pushed Jerom back and stood in front of Emeri.

  “You can’t do this!” He snapped. “I won’t let you!”

  Jerom’s eyes blazed with a dark, soulless light and he drew himself up to his full height, standing over Caste, taller by a head and a half. “You pathetic cleric! How dare you deny me what is rightfully mine!”

  “Not yours, not now, not ever!” Caste was shaking, his body flushing hot and cold, every memory of being bullied and intimidated returning to him with overwhelming clarity.

  Jerom looked at him…and sniggered. “You’re all red and trembling…you’re afraid…go back to your books, cleric and leave being a man to those who still have what it takes to bed a girl.” Everything in Caste screamed at him to run and hide and perhaps if he was not frozen to the spot in terror, he would have done so but he was unable to move even as Jerom shoved him, reaching for Emeri. “I’ll let you watch if you like and you can write it all down in detail in your little books…”

  Caste grasped Jerom’s arm. “No…” He cried weakly, pushing through almost physical walls of terror.

  “Get off me!” Jerom flung Caste aside and he struck a pillar, dropping to the floor, a gash on his forehead and blood running into his eyes. “Pathetic.” Jerom mocked then howled as Emeri rammed her little blade deep into Jerom’s right shoulder. He twisted, swinging wide and she was knocked back, Jerom clutching at his shoulder. Emeri darted to Caste’s side, kneeling by him as Jerom’s fingers found the blade and pulled it out. He held it in his hands, coated in blood and a terrible smile woke on his repulsive features. “Attacking a solider…you’re going to pay the price for denying me!”

  Caste watched Jerom storm out of the library, his vision blurry and despite trying, he couldn’t get to his feet.

  “Caste…speak to me! Caste!” Emeri’s features danced in front of his eyes. “What do I do?”

  Caste couldn’t focus. He pushed at her weakly. “Get away from me.” He grunted desperately, trying to get her to run.

  Emeri stepped back, clutching at her dress. She opened her mouth as if to speak then darted from the room. Caste scrunched his eyes shut, breathing in and out and tried to rise before falling back down.

  “Mustn’t fall asleep…” He groaned. “Must stay awake…” His head was slipping lower and lower onto his chest…