Free Curse of the Spider King by Wayne Thomas Batson, Christopher Hopper Page B

Sentinel’s lips. “I’m sorry to press you, but we must know what happened here. Tell us what you know . . . anything you can remember.”
    Elle lay on a litter surrounded by Elven warriors. She tried to speak but coughed harshly through the first few syllables. Fresh blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
    â€œBreak out the rest of those windows on the other side!” Guardmaster Olin Grimwarden yelled at the flet soldiers who milled about the ruins of the Great Hall.
    Flet soldiers exchanged pained glances as they trod into the wreckage. They hoisted large pieces of marble and charred wood and hurled them through their beloved windows.
    â€œNow,” said Brynn. “Tell us, Elle, what did you see?”
    â€œThey came up the main hall”—whispered the Sentinel—“and through the glass: Warspiders, Gwar soldiers, Drefids . . .” Her voice, now thin and weak, fell away. Her ceremonial robes were torn and her ribs badly bruised and broken. It was all she could do to stay conscious. “We had no time.” Elle coughed. Brynn offered her another sip of water, but she denied it. “The guards barely had time to draw their swords . . . many were cut down right where they stood.”
    â€œGo on,” said Grimwarden, his own fear making him impatient.
    â€œIt was so sudden. We had no time.” Elle coughed and scowled. “They just kept coming.”
    Grimwarden frowned. “Surely the Seven Lords fought.”
    Elle’s eyes grew large and fierce, and for a moment her strength seemed to return. “They fought like lions,” she said. “Galadhost was the first to recognize the danger. His twin blades took many a Gwar head! And Tisa, she nearly sent the hall up in flames. In spite of the overwhelming numbers of Warspiders, Gwar, and Drefids, the lords might have still turned the tide of the battle. But they could not advance on the enemy without leaving their offspring unprotected. The lords were slain as they defended their children.”
    The children? Grimwarden looked sadly up at the thrones. Something troubled him. Behind the thrones, hidden and unknown to all but the most elite Elves, was the tunnel entrance to the ancient Nightwish Caverns. Why hadn’t the Seven Lords taken their children and escaped?
    â€œElle, what became of . . . of the children?” asked Brynn. “They are not here among the dead.”
    Elle winced at the memory. “After the Seven Lords fell, it was only a matter of time before the Gwar gained control of the hall. We were overwhelmed. The Drefid commanders took the infants. They placed them in satchels on the Warspiders, and the war party left through the windows.”
    â€œWhy would they leave?” asked Brynn. “Had they stayed, they could have cut into the heart of the city and hemmed us in.”
    â€œThey accomplished their mission,” muttered Grimwarden.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThey came for the children,” he said. “Why? I cannot say. But a growing fear gnaws within me. The Spider King now holds the end of the lordship bloodline in his hands.”
    Elle groaned. Her voice came out in an agonized wail. “I failed them!”
    â€œYou have not failed,” Brynn consoled her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “You live to tell what the Spider King wanted known only by the dead in this room. He is the one who failed. You are strong.”
    â€œNeither strong nor smart enough,” she whispered. “Ah, treachery!”
    â€œTreachery?” Brynn stood, sympathy vanishing from her expression. “Treachery in Berinfell? I don’t believe it.”
    â€œHow else could they get past the Gap? The walls? How could they know just where to hit us . . . or that the Seven would all be here?” Her eyes narrowed. “It was the Gwar attendants, I’m sure of it.”
    â€œCome now, Elle, surely you don’t believe that!” Brynn