The Devastation: Unexpected Circumstances Book 7 Read Online Free PDF

Edgar’s seal admit to taking a royal child hostage?”
    “He has Alexandra,” I confirmed.
    “And…and she is with child still?”
    I had to swallow hard before I could speak.
    “She is.”
    “Then we will support your cause,” Lord William replied simply, and I felt my breath escape my lungs in a rush.  I slid out of the saddle and landed on the ground to grasp Lord William’s arm with my hand.
    “Thank you,” I replied.
    “I am from the old kingdom,” Lord William said with a shrug.  “I do not approve of your choice of wife, but that does not change the royalty within her belly.  Edgar has gone too far.  The other kingdoms will not stand for it.  If you give them time, they will all stand against Edgar now.”
    The lump in my throat returned.
    It was not unlike what my other advisors had said to me.  If we wait, they will likely join us.  An affront to a royal, even an unborn one, was simply unthinkable.  Even those who would not accept Alexandra’s standing as Queen of Silverhelm—and there were many in the outside kingdoms who did not approve—would not stand for such an attack on a royal child.
    “I will not allow her to be in his clutches any longer,” I stated.  “We go to war now.”
    Lord William focused his dark eyes on me as he contemplated a moment and then slowly nodded his head.
    “So it will be,” he said quietly, then turned to the men beside him.  “Make yourselves ready!  Gather the siege equipment!  We fight with King Branford of Silverhelm!”
    “Thank you,” I said again.
    “King Branford,” Lord William said, “I have more to show you.  You know of our siege weapons, but there is something else we have discovered more recently.  It is something that may very well turn the tide on these times and end Edgar’s reign over Wynton.”
    “What is it?” I asked.
    I was answered with a sly smile and a gesture toward the blacksmith’s shop.  Sir Rylan accompanied us as we walked to the back of the building.  Lord William directed us behind the forge to the smithy and introduced us to a young, dark-haired man with eyes that glittered with excitement as he talked of his craft.  His name was Benjamin, and he had something of great importance to show me.
    “I learned this from the men in the south,” he said, “far from here.  When they battle, they use sword and bow as we do, but they have another weapon—they also use fire.”
    “We all use fire,” I scoffed.  “How is this of use to me?”
    “But, sire,” the young man said with wide, bright eyes, “they use fire on their arrows.”
    “Arrows are made of wood,” I reminded him, “not metal.  They would burn up before they would ever reach your foe.”
    “Not the way I make them,” Benjamin said.
    I scowled at him, vowing in my mind to kill him for slowing me down if this proved useless.  Benjamin picked up an arrow from the anvil at his side and dipped it into a bucket of a black, gooey substance.  He turned it around in a circle as Rylan leaned closer to look.
    “This is ridiculous,” I mumbled.
    “Wait,” Sir Rylan said.  “I have heard of this.”
    “See here, sire,” Benjamin said as he held the arrow up. The black goo did not drip as I would have thought but had congealed at the tip of the arrow.  He held it over the fire, and the tip immediately burst into flame.  I jumped back, startled from the flash.  The man grinned, and his obvious jocularity at my reaction might have ended his life on another day, but the importance of the flaming arrow caught my attention instead.
    It did not burn out right away, nor did the flame creep up the rest of the wooden shaft.  Instead, it flamed only at the tip for a good minute before he drew back his bow and let the arrow fly at a straw target in the field.  The bale went up in flames almost immediately.
    “What do you call it?” I asked.
    “Pitch, my king,” Lord William replied.  The way he addressed me did not escape my notice.  As