Page 122 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

“Any word from the divine?” Rath asked with a frown, obviously uncomfortable with the spiritual nature of what I had divulged and, hell, I was the same.

“Surely if you’re seeking divine intervention, you should be speaking to me,” Aeve said, appearing before us.

“You need a bell on you!” Axe said. “You appear and disappear like a bloody cat.”

Her smile in response was suitably feline.

“You should also be behind the citadel walls,” Dane observed.

“Some of my priestesses have gone to give succour to the people, but not us.” As she shifted, I caught the sun shining on her raven feather cloak, the plumes giving off a golden sheen rather than a purplish one. “We will remain in Snowmere, no matter what happens.”

“You could be raped or torn apart where you stand,” a general growled.

“I could strike down our enemies.” She twisted her hands, conjuring a swirling ball of black energy that we all instinctively took a step away from. “Others of my order could as well.” She nodded to a small group of similarly elderly women. “We may be part of what helps save the day.”

“We need water by the gates,” I said.

“Done, Majesty,” Rath said, only the dark shadows under his eyes alerting me to the cost of his efforts. “It’s also been reinforced with… well, everything.”

He wasn’t wrong. It looked like half of the city had been piled up against the gate, men milling around the base of the mass.

“Then let’s get some archers up on the wall, start picking the bastards off while we still can.”

“Of course, Majesty.”

“And you’re going to join them.” Weyland shook his head slowly. “Someone will need to protect the women and children in the citadel. We need to send troops there as well, just in case…”

All of us blinked then as the uncomfortable truth of what he said sank in.

“Some of the militia Lord Nordred raised have been redirected there,” Rath replied. “They’re good men and well trained for the time they have spent with his Lordship, but they’re exhausted from the ride to the battle and the one to Snowmere.”

“And we’ll look after the queen.”

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice, seeing a bruised and battered Selene, but with her was with some of her Maidens.

“Gods, Selene…”

My hand was up, reaching for the massive bruise on one side of her face, but she shied away, trying to mask the motion with a smile.

“I expected some war wounds,” she said, “just not from our own men.” She eyed Rath and the others coolly. “We will fight with the queen, stay by her side, and ensure her safety.”

“We’d expect nothing less,” Rath said with a nod.

So that’s how I ended up standing on the battlements of the wall around Snowmere, a bow in my hand. But that wasn’t the only weapon to be found up there. A publican, by the look and smell of him, was hauling up create after crate of bloody whiskey, something that had me frowning.

“They think this some party that we can drink to forget our worries away?” I asked Dane in a low hiss.

“Not a party,” Axe replied with a grin, striding over and helping the men with their burden.

I watched them sink torn pieces of fabric into the bottles, but not before the men took a mouthful from each, holding the drink up in sorrow for what they were about to do. Then a brazier was brought closer and the kindling within was lit. When the flames were crackling merrily, the fabric wick in one bottle was set alight before it was tossed out and over the battlements to the raucous cries of the men.

It felt like my heart flew with it, soaring through the air for a moment, then coming crashing down to earth on the rocks below. Something inside me exploded when the glass did, then the broken bottle sent out a great splash of whiskey that was instantly set alight.

60

Burning was how I felt when the first of the Reavers came into range. I couldn’t look at the mass of them, but there were many, so many more than what we’d seen at Ironhaven. I had one in my sights and I watched him snarl and roar, looking all the while like some kind of bestial creature let loose from a dank dungeon. No matter what type of beast he was, he would be a dead one as soon as he took a step closer.

“May your aim be true, my queen.” Selene’s voice was a prayer in my ear, gentle in comparison to the raucous war cries coming from Axe and the publican’s men.

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