Obviously, from his vantage point at the bow loops in the gatehouse’s tower, Riddig had landed arrows in more than one man. Kien set his arrow, pulled it back until the bowstring creaked, then kept his gaze fixed sternly upon the weakened side of the huge gate. If only that gate had been left intact! Useless to wish for what could not be changed—or repaired. Yet he meant to survive. For Ela. And to protect Akabe and the temple. Already the Ateans were hammering on the gate’s damaged side. Kien watched the huge metal-protected door shudder, and he prayed with all his might. Let the trap work! Let fewer than ten men pass beyond the sabotaged gate. Those odds might give them success. Scythe moved in front of Kien then, blocking his view. And Akabe’s. The king snapped, “Destroyer, back away!” “Scythe!” Kien glared at his formidable protector, holding the beast’s battle-hungry gaze. “Let us shoot down our enemies before they’re within reach!
