My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (36 page)

Alina blocked her way. “Duncan promised to send word.”

Merewen stepped to the side, intending to go around her aunt. “I cannot remain here and do nothing.”

“You’ll only be in the way, Merewen. The men won’t be able to concentrate on defending themselves if they are worried about protecting you.”

True enough, but right now that didn’t matter. She had to be there when the gate opened to let Gideon back in. Nothing less would do.

She raised her eyes to meet her aunt’s. “I’ll leave the gate when Captain Gideon and Kane are back, but not until then. I can’t.”

The tears started then. “What if he doesn’t return? What if they’ve killed him already? My mare went lame, and he sent me back on Kestrel. He was left to face that bastard Fagan and his men on foot!”

Alina flinched at the mention of her husband’s name. “Have faith, niece. At his best, my husband is no match for your captain. I have faith he and Kane will return. You’ll see.”

Merewen gave her aunt a hard hug as an unspoken apology. She couldn’t help how she felt about her uncle, but the path he’d chosen to follow was hardly his young wife’s fault.

“As soon as Captain Gideon rides through the gate, I’ll retire to my workshop to prepare the medicines we’ll be needing.”

The other woman nodded and stepped back. “I’ll pray for the captain, Merewen, and the others who will defend the keep tonight. With the gods’ blessing, the enemy will be vanquished. I have great faith in Sir Murdoch…and in the others, too, of course.”

Alina must have felt torn apart, with her hated husband preparing to attack, and the man who had obviously captured her heart defending the keep. They both knew Fagan had brought this upon himself with his greed and cruelty. For the moment, all they could do was brace themselves for the worst.

With that happy thought, Merewen started for the door with leaden feet to await word of her lover—no, not merely her lover, but the man she loved.

K
estrel and Rogue ran through the night with Hob keeping pace off to the side. The night was far from over, and the enemy forces were but minutes behind them. There was no point in looking back. Either they reached the keep in time or they didn’t. Such was the life the two of them had been living for centuries and even before they’d taken up the cause of the gods.

But it had all led them to this one moment. Gideon had never waged a more important battle in all his long years of fighting. The fight against the evil in this land would start this night. Too long Fagan and his minions had been allowed to go unchecked, and Gideon would put a stop to it before it spread any further. He wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself and even his men if it meant that Merewen and her people would live in peace. His love for her would accept no less.

Yet Fagan was only part of the trouble they faced. They needed to survive this battle in a much larger war. It would be better to capture Fagan and pry answers from him, but Gideon knew this battle would end in one of two ways—with Fagan’s death or his own.

Even with Kestrel’s great heart and stamina, the stallion was gradually slowing, and Rogue was falling farther and farther behind. Gideon would not leave Kane to face the enemy alone. He pulled back on Kestrel’s reins, fighting against the horse’s instincts to charge forward to safety. The faint sound of other horses carried on the night air.

It was going to be close, but at long last the palisade loomed up ahead. The gods were with them.

Or were they?

From out of the darkness charged a line of mounted fighters. Gideon recognized the one in front immediately—Olaf, which meant the man riding slightly behind him was most likely Fagan.

With the enemy behind them and this new threat in front, he and Kane were surrounded. Gideon didn’t even hesitate. Drawing his sword, he cursed the enemy and called down the gods’ fury on them. He might not survive the night, but he wouldn’t be alone in the long darkness of the afterworld. His enemies, broken and bleeding, would ride beside him.

Kane drew up nearby, his curved swords flashing in a glint of moonlight, his voice harsh with hatred and determination. The mage-cursed warriors behind them continued forward, but the human ones in front fell back in confusion as Kane and his avatar charged into their midst.

Gideon yanked hard on Kestrel’s reins and spun the stallion to face the menace approaching from behind. He and Kane had thinned the enemy’s numbers, but they were still seriously outnumbered. At best, he could only hope to whittle them down enough so Murdoch and the others could finish the job from within the safety of the keep.

As his sword connected with the first of the silent soldiers, he remembered the sweet feel of Merewen in his arms. For the first time he had something to live for—no, some
one
to live for. But if he had to die to keep her safe, so be it.

He screamed in challenge, waded into the enemy, and made them bleed.

Murdoch cursed under his breath. He’d known it was a mistake to allow Lady Merewen to join the men on the
walkway despite her promise to return to the hall as soon as the captain returned.

Well, Gideon had returned, but right now he was trapped outside the gates and fighting against overwhelming odds. Both men were on foot. Even with Kane at Gideon’s back, they stood little chance against the two forces closing ranks around them.

Merewen looked up at him with stark fear in her eyes and tears streaming down her face. “Murdoch, do something. Ride to his aid.”

That was exactly what he wanted to do, but his primary duty was to protect the keep and those within. If he and the other Damned rode out to join the fight, who would protect Merewen? And Alina? Never before in his long life had Murdoch felt so torn in his duty.

Duncan joined him, the same need to shed enemy blood gleaming in his eyes. “Well?”

That single word held a world of questions in it. They had all sworn to serve the gods, but their oath of fealty to Gideon predated that. Without Gideon, Murdoch would never have survived the abuse of his foster father. Duncan had his own horror stories; so did Averel.

Without Gideon, they were nothing.

So in the end, the answer was just that simple. “We fight.”

Together they ran down the stairs from the walkway. Averel must have guessed what Murdoch’s decision would be, because he was already mounted and leading two other horses to where the guards stood ready to open the gate.

Murdoch blocked Averel’s way. “One of us has to stay to protect the keep.”

The young warrior tried to shove his way past. “Gideon is my friend, too, Murdoch.”

He understood exactly how his friend felt. Before he could argue the point, Merewen charged down the steps
and caught his arm to get his attention one last time. “Let him fight, Murdoch. If the five of you fall, we have lost anyway. Go, but come back. All of you.”

Murdoch smiled down at her. “If the gods ordain it.”

The gate swung open, and the three rode out. If this was to be their last battle, at least the Damned would go down fighting together.

Gideon heard their battle cries long before he saw his friends. He should have known they’d never stand by and watch him and Kane die without throwing themselves into the fray. While he wanted to curse the idiocy of leaving Merewen and the others unprotected, he couldn’t help but be proud of his friends, his brothers-in-arms, for their loyalty.

Shadow and the two dogs acted as harbingers for their human companions. Even Kiva had joined in the battle, the huge owl startling the horses and drawing blood with his claws. Sensing his own avatar’s near exhaustion, Gideon had already sent Scim back to the keep to rest and keep an eye on Merewen for him. That made the reinforcements even more appreciated.

Kane dripped blood from several wounds but continued to fight. Another of the silent soldiers dropped to the ground. No time to count the victories, not when the battle still waged on.

Rogue played rearguard for them, forcing the enemy to come straight at them rather than from their blind side. Kestrel bolted in and out of sight, challenging the enemy mounts to fight or surrender. Several had reared up over and over until they unseated their riders. Once free of their burdens, they disappeared into the darkness.

Afoot, the enemy was less of a challenge. Shadow launched herself at another rider. He tried to wheel his horse out of her path, but the cat adjusted her attack in
midair, sinking her fangs into his arm and dragging him to the ground. His dying scream ended on a bloody gurgle.

Finally, Murdoch and Duncan broke through the enemy lines with Averel only slightly behind them. In seconds, they joined Kane and Gideon on the ground, forming up beside them, swords already bloody. For the first time since the fighting started, Gideon smiled.

The evil that stalked this land was about to meet its first major defeat. Each of the five gave voice to their challenge to the enemy. As one, they stepped forward, ready to meet death head-on if that was what the gods demanded of them.

Slash and stab. Two steps forward, one step back. Again and again. Gideon risked one glance in the direction of the keep. Even from a distance he savored the sweet taste of Merewen’s love. For her, he would fight to the last breath in his body. For her, he would fight harder. For her, he would send her enemies straight into the darkness of the afterlife to be weighed and found wanting by the gods.

Slash and stab. Another step, each harder won than the previous. Yet they made progress. The enemy lines were thinner now, but the Damned still stood shoulder to shoulder and grimly dealt out death and pain to those who dared oppose them.

Slash and stab. If he survived the night, Gideon would tell Merewen that he loved her with every breath he took and even beyond the day the gods called him to face their judgment for the last time.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to stand, and his hands were slick with blood. His or his enemy’s? He didn’t know and wouldn’t slow to find out. All that mattered was to keep pushing forward until they reached the keep.

Slash and stab. Slash and stab. One step closer to Merewen, one dead opponent at a time.

*    *    *

Merewen couldn’t remember how to breathe much less how to think. All she could do was look on in horror as she watched Gideon and his men fight for their lives—for her life, too, and that of everyone who claimed the keep and the surrounding land as home.

The clang of metal against metal and the whimpers of the wounded combined with the eerie cries of the avatars in a melody of horror. Men were dying out there. Had they chosen to fight for her uncle’s cause, or had they been forced to side with him against Gideon and his men?

Regardless of how they came to be there, she prayed for their departing souls even as she begged the gods to spare the lives of her champions. Had she known this would have been the outcome of her calling them from the river, would she still have chanted those words?

Yes. Her people had needed Gideon and the others to fight for their freedom.

“How bad is it?”

Merewen tore her eyes away from the fighting long enough to glance at Alina. “Bad enough.”

Alina put a tentative arm around Merewen’s shoulders, pulling her close. Merewen leaned against Alina, wishing they could do more than support each other. One way or the other, eventually the battle would be decided. Until then, all they could do was wait.

A movement at the bottom of the wall outside the gate caught her attention. Someone was attempting to force the gate open from the outside. No, not just someone. She would recognize that brute anyplace, anytime.

Olaf was attempting to sneak back into the keep. It was just like him to leave his men to do the dying. To her horror, someone on this side of the gate had already raised the bar. So they hadn’t rooted out all of the traitors after all.

She yelled out a warning to the remaining guards,
who quickly subdued Olaf’s confederate and then faced off against Olaf, their former captain. There had to be something more she could do! At the least, she could close the gate.

Alina latched onto her arm, holding her back. “No, Merewen! You will only be in the way!”

Her aunt was right, even if she didn’t want to hear it. The warriors were closing in on the keep, but she wasn’t sure they’d make it in time to save her men. The scream of a raptor split the night as help arrived in the shape of a gyrfalcon in a steep dive. Scim!

Next, Shadow slipped through the open gate, followed closely by Hob. Even the dogs returned to the keep. Merewen’s men recognized them as allies and fell back, letting the swooping bird and snarling gargoyle force Olaf into retreating until he was pinned in a corner. He continued to brandish his sword and shout threats, but his efforts were futile against the avatars.

She checked on the progress outside the walls. Without Olaf to lead them, the rest of Fagan’s men broke and ran. The last flurry of fighting was bloody and brutal, but finally Gideon and his men ran for the gate. As much as she wanted to be there to greet him, common sense ruled. Until Olaf was…what? Captured? Dead? And where was her uncle? She hadn’t seen him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still alive.

Gideon strode through the gate, his bearing almost regal. Duncan came next, supporting Kane who was limping badly. Averel entered unassisted, but his shirt was soaked with blood. Gideon called off the avatars to face Olaf with his men spread out beside him in a ragged circle.

“Surrender?”

Merewen held her breath as they waited for Olaf’s answer. It wasn’t long in coming. He charged toward Duncan and Kane, mistaking them for the weak link. Kane straightened up to face off against the desperate
man. Even wounded and bleeding, he made quick work of Olaf.

“Where is Murdoch?” There was no mistaking the fear in Alina’s voice. “I don’t see him!”

Merewen could barely bring herself to tear her eyes away from the drama unfolding below, but she understood her aunt’s fear.

She peered out into the night, only just then realizing the darkness was already giving way to early morning. It wasn’t hard to spot the big warrior. He lay sprawled in the dirt just outside the gate with two men wearing the duke’s livery dead at his feet. Obviously he’d warded off one last attack on his way into the keep.