Page 151 of Between Wrath and Mercy

Our moment was interrupted by a bellow from Raj, who had made his way to the battlement directly above the gate. Rain opened a rift above us and pulled me through. It felt like a waste of divinity, but I knew even a moment could be the difference between success and failure. Staring out to the sand and grass below us, I spotted the messenger.

One heavily-armored man on a horse. I glanced out toward the horizon and saw a small contingent of soldiers, but it was too far to count how many. Rain tensed next to me, a grim expression on his face, as he brought us closer to where Raj stood. The messenger called up with a heavily accented voice, thick and with a burr, his voice much louder than he should have been capable.

“King Dryul will be taking control of this fortress, as it is on Folterran lands. If you choose to surrender at this moment, he has promised a quick death. If you do not? It will be anything but. Either way, you will surrender.”

I felt a trickle of dread down my spine as the man spoke. There was so much on the line. The lives of all the soldiers here, the citizens of Clearhill who must be viewed as traitors by now, Elora. I trusted Rain knew what he was doing, the Bloody Prince was a name known across the Three Kingdoms for a reason, but still. The fear was settling low in my stomach, and I had to focus to take measured breaths.

Rain, however, was a picture of calm. He approached one of his archers who had his bow already aimed, stationed at a crenel, looking through the gap at the messenger below.

“May I?” The soldier passed the bow into Rain’s outstretched hand and positioned himself so his quiver faced his king. When Rain stepped forward to the gap, bow in hand, his face was hard. A picture of determination and rage. Ice and fire.

“Tell your king his death belongs to Queen Emmeline Vestana, sister of Lucia Highclere. And she is not known for mercy.” The minute Rain finished calling out, he loosened an arrow into the ground at the horse’s feet. Its rider whipped his steed around, and Rain followed his retreat with six more arrows right behind them, landing deep into the sand. A show of accuracy and restraint.

Raj turned around with a raised brow and a hint of a smirk.

“That certainly sent a message.” He chuckled as he walked down the length of the parapet, barking orders down into the courtyard, sending his soldiers to their various positions. I watched him while feeling a few different emotions coming from Rain, none of them good. My voice was quiet as I spoke, a ghost of a smile on my face.

“I’m not known for mercy?” I felt the amusement for a brief second before it lent back into the turmoil of conflict simmering within him.

“Well, they don’t know much about you. But I think if you’re allowed the opportunity to kill the King of Bones, you’d be anything but merciful. Consider it your wedding gift since you didn’t earn it in our duel.” He shot me a crooked grin, and I felt it to have the exact type of calming effect I needed. He pulled me to his side, hand on my hip, breathing me in.

“You’ll actually let me kill him? I thought you wanted me to stay here until we figured out where Elora was?”

I felt his lips move against my skin when he spoke. “I do want you to stay here until we retrieve Elora, but I’m going to leave Raj with you—and of course, you’ll have Thyra. Just in case something happens, and I can’t help you get her. But once we have her back, as long as we are able, we’ll go after the king. Together. I do owe you his head, after all.”

Anhourlater,theboats on the coast had moved closer. The side of the fortress facing the sea was built right on the edge of a deep drop-off. The ships could come right up next to the fortress if they wanted, and it seemed like that was their goal. The mercenaries from Skos were marching, getting nearer every moment. Thyra, as my second, would not leave my side, and Raj made rounds checking on all of his soldiers as we stood on the parapet. I learned a bit about him from Thyra, eager to talk about something to keep my racing mind at bay. He was a widower with two children, a little boy and a teenage girl. They all lived here in the fortress. Both children were acting as assistants to Lavenia and Mairin, who had created a small healing area within the dining hall. I was worried, children had no business being here. Evil men didn’t care. No small part of me was glad the children and my friends would be out of harm's way. I knew Lavenia was a capable soldier, and she’d die defending those in her care if she felt she had to, so keeping her away from the fight, yet still useful, felt like the best way to protect her.

When Rain said goodbye to me, heading down into the courtyard, I made sure to keep the tears at bay. I was terrified of how this would turn out. An overwhelming fear flooded through me, certain I wasn’t going to walk out of this with both Rain and Elora. All I wanted was their safety; I didn’t care what I had to do or who I had to kill to get it. And the thought was petrifying. I stood in the front corner of the battlement, offering a solid view of the approaching ships and men on foot and only a few steps to glance down into the courtyard. A few steps to see the side of his face, strong arms crossed over his hard body. I closed my eyes, visualizing the bond between us, the strings of gold, and plucked one. The sweet tone of our fire and love energized me, and when I opened my eyes, he was looking up at me, a soft smile on his face. Whatever I did, he’d felt it. He’d felt it, and he did it back, the song a melody in my veins. The overwhelming feeling of love and fear and pride simmered between us, making waves up and down the bond. We held each other’s gaze until the first pound of the battering ram.

Rain’s eyes tore from mine, and he started barking orders to his men. He’d already had them fortify the gate after raising it. I watched as he climbed the small mountain of dirt he’d cleared away, using his vantage point to yell for his men. To lead them, to encourage them, to be their king.

I scanned the horizon, searching for Prince Cyran, Declan, King Dryul. Anyone who I thought might know where Elora was. I looked for a carriage but knew if she were in one, she’d likely be out of sight. Raj ordered his men, helping those who fell to the mercenaries’ return arrows, moving replacements into the crenels. I could see why he was in charge. He had a vicious efficiency, almost callous. But from the few interactions we had, I could tell he was kind, and Rain trusted him. A shout drew my attention, and I took a few steps toward the sea before I realized what caused the men to cry out.

Floating platforms. The boats had unloaded floating platforms with giant ladders balanced on them. Rungs as wide as Rain was tall and almost high enough to reach the top of the parapet. And they were closing in. Enemy soldiers placed wooden boards across the platforms, and the warriors nimbly jumped over to the ladders and began climbing. The archers did their best, but the soldiers were on the other side of the platform, protected by what they used to climb, making it hard to get a clean shot. I realized with horror what was happening when the soldiers reached the top of their ladders and cut loose rope, dropping smaller ladders up against the walls, which the invaders swiftly climbed.

I drew my sword, waiting to use it if necessary, hoping to save my divinity as long as I could. The sounds of the battering ram on the gate were a loud drumbeat as I watched the first Folterran soldier breach the wall. He was promptly felled and thrown back over, but then all hell broke loose. Thyra pulled me further away from the battlement facing the sea as dozens of men climbed over at the same time. The majority seemed to be mercenaries from Skos, and they attacked with the ferocity they were known for. They wore shields on their back and had axes in hand. A few of them wore the same face paint Thyra and I did. The shudder of the battering ram made me startle as I looked down, realizing we were directly above the gate. I made a scan of the area again, searching desperately for Cyran, and didn’t see him anywhere. I was feeling particularly useless, trying to stay out of the battle like Rain had asked, to stay safe until we found her or saw her. I itched to partake, to help slay the men who fought for the one who stole my daughter, who stole my sister from me.

That itch turned into need as I saw Rain’s men on the battlement becoming overwhelmed. They were tired, their morale low. We were outnumbered here, archers unprepared for hand-to-hand combat. They’d been roused in the middle of the night to prepare and had been up, fully armed and clothed in thick leather and steel in some cases. They were hot, worn-down, and exhausted. And it showed. The archers had mostly abandoned their posts, allowing more and more soldiers to make their way over the ledge. It struck me then, with a force that caused a stitch in my breathing. These weren’t just Rain’s men. They weremymen. I’d already seen a few soldiers die, and I thought with a pang about having to inform their spouses, their loved ones.

A loud bang and splintering from below told me the gate had been breached. And I felt the victory through the bond before I heard Rain’s cry. I whipped my head around, searching for him. Before the Folterrans breached the gate, Rain had been prepared, using his divinity to hold the dirt mound over the pit he’d dug out earlier. For all the Folterrans knew, it was packed dirt, ground they could walk on. But they fell down into his trap. The pit was full of spears that now impaled dozens of Folterran soldiers, the unlucky ones who ran through the gate first. It soon filled, and the Folterrans began to use the men’s bodies as a bridge into the fortress, swiftly gaining back the advantage. I saw Rain swing back into action as more men climbed over the top of the parapet.

“My Queen, permit me to fight with Raj. The soldiers, we’re . . . this is bad.”

“Of course, Thyra. Go. I’ll be fine here.” I gripped my sword tighter, ready to prove my point, if necessary. Looking around me, I found a bleak resignation of death and loss weighing heavily on faces I knew and faces I’d just met. Soldiers were falling left and right. Our soldiers needed something, needed help, needed spirit. It was not time to break yet. I decided to do something about it and climbed into a crenel at the corner of the battlement and raised my voice, hoping I’d be heard. Hoping that my encouragement as their new queen, my readiness to fight apparent, would help them.

“The gods did not bring us here today to lose! The gods brought us to defend light and honor! Today you fight for peace! Hanwen will guide us, and Aonara has blessed us. Fight for justice! Fight for your king!”

I screamed it to my people, my soldiers, screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew they’d heard it when I felt warm pride through the bond, and an answering war cry rang out, echoing around me. Sheathing my sword, I held out my hands toward the dozens of soldiers still clambering over the parapet and reached for my divinity. I would put proof to the words the soldiers had just heard, prove Aonara had blessed us. I hadn’t done more than play with the flame at the tips of my fingers, but I knew there was more. That power I’d felt swirling within me, stronger than I could comprehend. I coaxed it into my fingertips, the warm white energy inside me thrumming with an intensity I was afraid to possess, afraid to use, and I unleashed that divine light. The divine light which would identify me as goddess blessed. I harnessed it, and I let it wash over and through me. It flooded my veins, tingling. My fear dissipated immediately, washing away with every other dark thought I had. It felt so right, as if it had always been a part of me. I knew I could wield it as Lucia had, but with more control. I could spear it toward our enemies, throwing them into the frigid, deep water. I hadn’t yet done much with it, but I felt more in tune with it than my original divinity. It would do as I asked, protecting me and mine. My divinity was an arrow, and I was the bow. We were strung tightly, taut with power, and I released my grip, allowing my divine light to strike true.

Chapter 49

Ididn’tquiteknowhow my divinity would manifest using the abilities Aonara had blessed me with. I’d only used them to that degree once, during the Body ceremony, and it wasn’t even intentional. When I reached for it, amassing the light inside me, inside my being, I let it guide me. It felt different than the glow I’d summoned to my fingertips, a bit more wild and frenetic. I let it move where it wanted to, trusting it to do what I wanted with it. It felt natural, intrinsic, more honed to me than the abilities I’d carried my entire life. I trusted it, letting the power course through me before I let it free.

And it worked.

The soldiers from the Folterran army toppled backward, the impact of my divinity falling over them like a wave of white, molten fire, and they were gone. The soldiers flew over the side of the wall, falling to the water below. The bright blinding light was tempered by the sunlight, which bore down on us well into the late afternoon. Not a single one of my soldiers was injured. The ones who were engaged, trying to push the enemies backward one moment and then looking at an empty parapet the next, whipped their heads around to find the source of the light, the saving force that drove death back. More men were coming, mercenaries scrambling up the platforms, either uncaring or unaware of what I had done. There were too many ladders pushed up against the wall, and I decided that would not do.

Running down the battlement, I scanned for Thyra and Raj. Thyra was fussing over a wound on Raj's shoulder, his back pressed against the wall, while the weathered captain stared up at me, an expression of frank assessment.

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