by Amy Hopkins
CHAPTER THIRTY
The next day was spent in quiet busyness. The people of Tahn—both residents and refugees—scurried around, stockpiling food in cellars in case of a siege, ripping spare sheets into bandages, and hurriedly reinforcing what little weapons and armor they had.
“Do ye think we have enough spears?” Bette asked after she returned from a quick bite of lunch.
“What?” Garrett asked. “Three for every man, and a hundred-twenty spare? Are ye serious?”
Bette shrugged. “By the time we throw a few in their faces, we might start runnin’ low. Once the fightin’ starts, ye can’t exactly ask fer a time out ta restock.”
Garrett shook his head. “I don’t think ye’ll be launching them from atop the wall. Julianne said we’re to minimize the casualties.”
Bette shook her head. “Does she know what happens in battle? We’re not sittin’ down to a tea-party. They’ll be hammerin’ in here tryin’ to kill us!”
“Aye,” Garrett said, quietly. “Because they think we stole their princess and want to raze their town. Can ye blame them for bein’ a wee bit cranky with us?”
Bette sighed. “I suppose, under those circumstances…” She shook off her melancholy quickly. “If Julianne wants a non-lethal battle, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Aye.” Garrett straightened. “A spear-butt still causes a world of hurt, and a few holes in legs won’t exactly be fatal, as long as we look after the ones we knock over.”
“What do ye think she’ll do with young Adeline and ’er father?” Bette asked. “I know she’s got somethin’ planned. I saw her sneakin’ around with some cloaks earlier.”
Garrett shrugged. “If she didn’t tell us, it must be for a reason. Rogan must have a few muckers floatin’ about, and if they get wind of her plan, it might just go badly.”
Bette nodded in understanding. She resolved to think no more about what she had seen, and to ignore anything else she came across. “Right, then. Can ye take point here? I need ter go check the men on watch.”
Garrett saluted and watched her leave. “Damn, she’s a fine lass,” he muttered.
He paced back and forth in the small watchtower, waiting for her to return. Running his gaze over the tree line and along the narrow road that led from Tahn to Muir, he wondered how long they had.
His bones itched for a fight, and his stomach quivered with nerves. He wasn’t afraid of dying or getting hurt—this nervousness was new to him, though he had felt it last time they faced off with a Muir army.
He was afraid of letting Bette down. She had worked her ass off to train the men and women of Tahn, to sculpt them into fighters worthy of the spears they bore.
She was a good leader and, like all good leaders, those she led viewed her with respect and worked to make her proud.
Even Garrett. “Aye, a fine lass, and a fine commander, too.”
He went about his business, checking the quality of the spears stored nearby and keeping a close eye on the tree line, until a cluster of voices from below caught his attention.
Lord George approached the watchtower alongside Marcus and Julianne, causing a few of the guards on watch to turn and greet them.
“Eyes front, lads,” Garrett reminded them. “Lewis? Go find Bette; she’s doin’ the rounds.”
Lewis jogged off as Garrett headed down the rickety steps to greet the lord of Muir.
“Ahh, Garrett.” Lord George gave him a respectful nod. “Where is your commander?”
“Ye mean Bette?” They had never discussed titles, figuring their ragtag army would just sort out their own pecking order, with Bette at the top. “I sent one of the men to get her, so she’ll be along shortly.”
“On my way,” Bette called, running over. “Is there news?”
George shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I’ve been speaking to Marcus and Julianne, though.” He looked from one rearick to the other. “I know this isn’t the time for it, but I may not get another chance. Bette, Garrett, what are your plans when this is over?”
Bette gave Garrett a glance, and he saw his own look of confusion mirrored on her face. “My lord, I haven’t given it a thought. I wouldn’t leave Tahn undefended, though, and I think I speak for all of us when I say we won’t abandon the town if we’re needed.”
Lord George cleared his throat. “Julianne has a duty to the Temple she leads. Marcus has informed me he will follow her when she goes. However, I’d like to offer you both an invitation.”
“Aye?” Garrett said, curious.
“Yes. Tahn has changed. I doubt these people will be able, or even willing to go back to their quiet life of farming once this is over.” He paused, taking Bette’s measure. “I’ve lost men. Tahn needs to be able to defend itself. Will you stay on as Captain of the Tahn force, with Garrett serving as your First Lieutenant?”
Bette’s jaw dropped. “Sir… Lord George… I don’t have the experience! I’m not trained, I barely—”
“Oh, shut yer bloody mouth, woman,” Garrett said. “Ye’ve done more fer these men than any rearick troop leader I’ve seen. Ye’ve got the head and the skills for it, so don’t sell yerself short.”
Bette’s eyes started to redden. They sparkled, but she bit down hard on her cheek to stem any rogue tears. “I would be honored,” she said, voice husky.
“If Bette is staying, and if she’ll take me as her first, ye have my pledge, too,” Garrett said without hesitation.
“Thank you,” George said. His shoulders dropped as a hidden tension left his body. “You have put my mind at ease. I know you’ll both do well.”
“Army sighted! They’re coming!” The call rang along the narrow bridge running behind the wall.
Bette gave Lord George a quick salute, then snapped, “Thank ye, sir, but I gotta run.”
“Go! Go, and defend our town!” George called.
“I’d best move along, too, sir,” Marcus said, then dashed off.
“Well, Julianne. Should we get ready?” George said, turning to her.
“Tell Tess and Adeline. Get ready, but don’t come out until I give the signal.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I have to join the others.”
George watched her go, wishing he had her unwavering confidence. Still, it had infected him a little. As he went to find his daughter, he realized he could actually entertain the idea that they may just pull this off.
He picked up speed, walking as fast as he could to the small cottage that Julianne had insisted he stay in.
“Danil!” he called, seeing the blind mystic strolling past.
Danil smiled and opened his mouth to speak, then read what was in George’s mind. “Tessa is in the hall!” he called out, knowing George would look for her first.
He broke into a run, shutting off his sight gained via George’s eyes and relying on his instincts to lead him to the watchtower. Though no one was around to lend him their sight, he arrived quickly and without getting lost or tripping.
His vision flared to life as he touched the minds of the people around him, using their eyes to see again. Spears were being handed out and leather armor strapped on.
“Artemis!” Danil called, spotting the old man hovering on the edges of the crowd.
Artemis hurried over, a deep frown etched on his face. “Danil? There are so many people. I can’t work around this many people.”
“It’s ok. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” He looked around for Polly. “Tansy?” he called, seeing the performer slipping a brass-ringed corset on. “Where’s Polly?”
Tansy jerked her head to the left and Danil grabbed Artemis’s arm, pulling him along. He spotted her binding her hair back, a small, curved sword at her feet.
“I need you to come with me,” he told her.
Polly’s eyes flashed. “No. I’m going to fight. You can’t stop me—Bette has been—”
“I know, she’s been training you. That’s why you need to come with me,” Danil said. He grabbed her sword and
gestured for her to hurry.
Polly started walking, her hands still busy in her hair. “What do you mean?” she asked, casting a longing glance over her shoulder.
“Bette said you’re one of the few she’d trained in close fighting. We need a bodyguard—you’re it.” Danil pulled Artemis along the wall until he found what he was looking for. A cellar, the small door semi-hidden behind a building with small steps leading underground.
“Dammit, Danil, if you’re just trying to keep me away from the action…” she said, the warning clear in her voice.
“Polly, I can’t fight. I can take down a normal soldier, but if they bring a mystic with them, one who is shielded, I’m about as vulnerable as a canary in a cage. I don’t think Artie here is exactly a hand-to-hand expert, either.”
“So, we’re going to hide out down here?” Polly asked dubiously.
“Artemis, Bastian, and I need to link our shields so we can prevent Rogan attacking us while we use our magic. Sharne is guarding Bastian at the other end of the wall. If we don’t do this, George and Adeline will be completely vulnerable.” He looked at her, beseeching.
“Stay near the back,” she said, stepping up by the door with her sword drawn. “I’ll make sure you aren’t interrupted.”
Danil grinned. “You ready, Artemis?”
The old man nodded nervously. Danil’s eyes dimmed for a moment, then, like four glowing lights in the depths of a cave, Artemis and Danil’s eyes lit as they cast the shielding spell.
“Never get used to that,” Polly muttered. Neither man seemed to notice, so she made herself comfortable, sword in hand, and prepared herself for the watch.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Rogan’s horse paced down the line as he watched the wall. Tahn soldiers scurried along, their heads barely showing as they bobbed along. Since when does Tahn have soldiers? he wondered.
Occasionally, one would stand, hand shielding the sun as they scanned the army waiting outside the woods. Each time, the waiting army rustled with nerves.
Rogan ran his eyes over his own men as they scrambled to set up tents and distribute rations. Bile burned in his throat.
Pathetic, he thought. Weak, desperate men fighting for a woman who will never see them.
He had scanned their minds, randomly dipping in and out of people’s thoughts as they had travelled. All of them, focused on the mission ahead and marched to free their beloved Adeline.
He couldn’t sense their lust, but he knew it was there. Men didn’t admire a woman for anything else. The pride in her leadership and gratitude for the service she had paid to the poor and underprivileged was a cover, a story they told themselves to hide thoughts of fucking her, thoughts Rogan knew were there even if he couldn’t find them.
They’ve lied so well, they've even convinced themselves. Unable to look at them without feeling ill, Rogan turned his attention back to Tahn.
“Fuck the tents,” he growled. “Fuck the rations. You!” he called to a man standing on a wagon of carefully packaged food. “Destroy those. We won’t be here long enough to need them.”
“De—destroy them, my lord?” the man stammered.
Unwilling to expend the effort needed to repeat himself, Rogan muttered something else, instead. Immediately, the man turned, unlaced his pants and started to piss. He soaked the food, heedless of outraged cries from those watching.
“DID YOU HEAR ME?” Rogan roared to those complaining. “We fight at daybreak! If you don’t take this city, you don’t eat. Is that enough incentive for you?”
Back at Tahn, Julianne caught the exchange. It was a stretch to read minds at that distance, but the effort was worth it for that vital bit of information.
“He’s going to attack at dawn,” she said. “And he’s starving the men until the battle is over. They'll be tired and weak by the time things start getting really hectic.”
“Fool,” Marcus muttered. “What is he thinking?”
Taking his question literally, Julianne shrugged. “His shield is too strong, he must have other mystics with him. I can only touch the minds of the fighters.”
Lips quirking up in a smile, Marcus didn’t explain it had been a rhetorical question. “He sounds volatile, Jules. I still think we should keep up the guard.”
“Oh, absolutely. But it’ll give me a chance to put my own plans into action before the swords start flying.” She grinned, and turned to go. “I’ll get the others and meet you back here.”
“Wait!” Marcus grabbed her arm and kissed her deeply before she left.
“What was that for?” Julianne asked, touching a finger to her tingling lips.
Marcus laughed. “You’re about to do something incredibly dangerous—don’t look at me like that; I know it’s necessary. I just wanted to remind you why you need to come back in one piece.”
Julianne socked him in the shoulder, and he winced. “Of course, I’m coming back. I promised Annie I’d bake pies with her once we’re done here. She seems to think I can’t cook, and is rather insistent on being the one to teach me.”
“You’d come back for Annie, but not for me?” With a wounded look, Marcus gave her a gentle shove towards the ladder. “Go, get the others. I’ll be waiting patiently as always.”
“Good boy,” Julianne said, giving him a quick wave before she disappeared down the ladder.
She set off for the cellar where Danil would be hiding, almost getting her head chopped off when she poked it in.
“Yikes! Sorry, Julianne. I didn't recognize you in the dark.” Polly tucked her sword away.
“I need to take Danil here on a little mission. Although…” Julianne eyed the sword. “That blade of yours may come in handy. Wanna come?”
“Sure!” Polly grinned, glad for the chance to escape the dim little hole.
“Good riddance,” Artemis snapped. “All these thoughts of naked men are driving me insane.”
Julianne’s jaw dropped.
“I told you, old man, if you don’t wanna see what’s in my head, then stay out!” Polly pulled at Danil’s hand, helping him stand.
“I am out. You leak.” Artemis settled back into his corner, seemingly content to stay there.
“I leak? That’s disgusting!” Polly grimaced.
“He means your thoughts are strong and loud,” Danil explained. “And he’s right. Hell, Polly, the thoughts that go through your head when you’re bored…”
Polly grinned. “Girl’s gotta have something to occupy her mind. You really need to find a better word for it, though.”
“Come on, you two,” Julianne said, noticing the look of irritation on Artemis’s face. “We’ll need Bastian for this, then we have to find Adeline.”
“What are we doing?” Polly asked as they hurried through town.
“We’re making a preemptive strike,” Julianne said cryptically. “Hopefully, one that will save a lot of lives.”
They found Bastian tucked away on the second floor of an abandoned building next to the wall. He had set himself up with a thin mattress and a blanket, and full box of dried fruit, bread rolls, and jerky.
“Hey,” he said defensively, when Danil pointed it out. “Man’s gotta keep his strength up!”
“Well, you’ll need to eat on the run,” Julianne said. “We’re taking Adeline out to see her friends.”
“You’re what?” Bastian asked, eyes bulging.
“I don’t know what Rogan has planned, but I’ll bet it rests on her,” Julianne said. “He's convinced those fighting for him that we’ve kidnapped Ade and are holding her captive. If she can convince even a few of them otherwise…”
“They’ll desert,” Bastian finished for her. “But, Master… you’ll be leading her right into the lion’s den. Hell, she’ll be tugging on his tail and tickling his nose if your plan goes how you want it to.”
“We’ll be careful,” Julianne promised. “If it looks too dangerous, we’ll abandon ship.”
Bastian eyed his cache of food and sighed. He st
ood, stuffing a handful of jerky in his pocket.
Julianne turned, then did a double take, coming back to the food cache. “How much of that do you have?” she asked, rummaging through the box. She stuffed her pockets with jerky and fruit and gave some to Danil to hold, too.
“Hey, that’s Jessop’s best jerky!” Bastian cried.
“And I appreciate your kind donation,” Julianne chuckled. “Come on. We have to find Adeline, then meet Marcus at the wall.”
Adeline was eating an early dinner with her father when they arrived at the cottage. “Julianne! Is everything alright?” Adeline asked, jumping up from the table.
“Yes, the army is setting up camp for the night, so we think things will stay quiet until daybreak,” Julianne said. “But we’d like to borrow your daughter for a few hours, if that’s ok, Lord George?”
“Which one?” Tessa asked, stepping into the room.
She wore one of Adeline's gowns and had her hair done up to match. Julianne clapped. “Tessa, you look perfect!”
Tessa had Adeline’s slim build and dark hair. With her clothes and makeup done, she could almost pass for the lord’s daughter, though she was older.
Tessa curtsied. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Where are we going?” Adeline asked, pushing her plate away and standing. “Do I need to bring the robe?”
Julianne almost said no, then nodded. “Actually, that’s a good idea. It will help to reinforce the image we send later.”
Adeline pulled a white robe—one of Julianne’s—off a hook on the door and slipped it on. “Off we go, then,” she said, a thread of nerves working its way through her words. “Goodbye, Father. Stay safe.”
“Me? You’re the one out after dark with an army at the doorstep,” George said. He sent a wistful look their way. “And I’m sure you’ll enjoy every minute. I don’t know if I’m more worried or jealous.”
“You’ll have your turn later, my lord,” Julianne said wryly.
George erupted into a laugh. “Very well. If I don’t see you before the battle, stay safe and fight well.”
