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He was a ghost, a haunt. His steps were calculated and carefully placed to keep him shielded. I had few doubts he would keep his presence hidden until he wanted. Shot after shot, we rained down blood on the enemy.
At the final arrow, Kaysar drew a dark seax blade. “Our next move begins now. I will meet you on the battlefield!”
The reply of Salur or drinking horns was returned.
“Lyra.” Thane faced me, a new somberness in his tone. “Should I fall out there, I have been honored to know you.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat, my short blade in my hand. “And you, Prince.”
We ran forward, into the fray.
My sword struck a Stav’s blade. We locked, spun, and dodged until I sliced the back of his leg. At my back, another warrior came. And another.
Focus forward. Roark’s sparring lessons reeled with the matches between me and Kael. I was no warrior, but I was buried with fury. Rage for my folk who’d died to hide me. Loathing for Nivek’s pointless death. Anger for the pain Roark had endured for most of his life.
I cried out when my sword slammed against another Stav. I was shorter but moved swifter than most warriors in their bulky guarders and armor.
I’d use it.
My cuts and stabs went to ribs, to thighs, to the tendons at the backs of knees.
In a matter of moments, my face was splattered in hot, sticky blood, and my muscles throbbed for more.
Auki fought nearby. His graceful motions were a dance of blood. Stav Guard dropped, screaming, when he would strike, then from between the warriors a fara wolf attacked, tearing at their heads and bellies.
Gunter and his father kept close to Emi and Yrsa. The princess spoke true: she was mesmerizing in the way she flung knives. The small blades struck throats and hearts. If her targets did not fall from the strike, Emi came up behind them and snapped their necks with her craft.
Thane slammed his sword against his own army with the same unbridled animosity written on his features. He cursed them. Shouted in their faces. He shoved his sword deep in their chests. Next to him, Brynn cried out, stumbling over a blow from a Stav at her back. Òlmr leapt over a fallen Dark Watch warrior, her paws crushing the Stav into the soil.
Two paces from Brynn, Kael stood, unmoving. There was a twist of pain on his face.
No. The draw to fall into the bloodlust of the Berserkir was there. He watched the fara wolf tear into the Stav. He looked to Brynn, who reached for her fallen sword as another Stav rushed for her.
Kael took aim at Brynn.
“No!” I screamed. “Kael, no!”
His sword sliced through the air.
The edge cut through the Stav Guard aiming for Brynn. The guard stumbled forward, falling half over Brynn’s legs.
Kael ripped his blade free of the man’s neck and yanked Brynn back to her feet by her hand. Chest to chest, they studied each other, their faces bloodied. For a moment, there was the old Kael in those eyes, looking at the only soul who soothed his.
They broke apart and battled side by side.
I looked for Roark, searched the burn in my chest, desperate to find him. Something tugged in the spot behind my heart and turned me around.
Near the edge of the Berserkir line, I found him.
The Draven prince reminded the Stav Guard he once served why Damir had named him the Death Bringer, why an enemy had become the Sentry of Stonegate. Roark’s manipulated eyes shone so vibrantly they seemed to glow. His anger was written in the sharp lines of his face, but it served us well. All my husband’s rage was pointed at the warriors who could not be defeated.
Yet the longer they stood against Roark, the more it seemed the trapped soul in his blood snuffed out their every weakness.
Seax blade in hand, Roark fought with a finesse I envied. As if battle were second nature, he chopped at the sturdy bones, again and again, until a Berserkir fell to his knees. From behind, Elisabet and Dark Watchers materialized and slit their throats.
It didn’t take me long to realize that Roark and the queen were moving with intention. They aimed for the back knoll. Ingir and Hundur. Doubtless, Roark’s binding curse was not only to pain me. It was for this moment. Fadey and Ingir did not want to risk what Skul Drek would do if he was loosed on the Stav Guard.
A scream came from the trees.