Page 88 of The Wolf Queen

“Darcy,” Axe said. “The Reavers have been sighted.”

Weyland groaned as I pulled away from him.

“That bastard is like a rival suitor, always trying to get your attention.”

“One I seek to spurn decisively,” I said, pulling the door open and then flagging down a nearby maid, asking her to take the toys and books to my daughter because I had business to attend to.

Moments later all six of us stood on the parapets along with the northern lords and General Rath.

“Not as many as before,” Rath said, handing the spyglass to Lord Kendrick.

“More than I’d like,” Kendrick added.

“No matter the number, we know what we are to do,” I said, turning to face them all. “We have a plan, so let’s put it into place. Archers!”

Men with bows scrambled to take their place along the parapets and I did the same. Boys ran down the line, depositing small buckets of pitch between us, because we were the frontline defence. I dipped my arrows in the sticky stuff, right as the others came to my side.

“Stay here,” Dane urged. “Stay safe. We’ll lead the ground defence.”

“Can’t fucking wait for it.” Axe’s grin was wild as he hefted his weapon. “Cracking Reaver skulls? It’s almost as good as sex.”

“How about you handle those bastards and I handle the sex part?” Weyland said, shooting me a wink.

“I’ll be with the ground crew on healing duties,” Gael told me, “but if you need me, just call. I’ll find you wherever you are. You need to be safe, Darcy.”

But there was no guarantee of that. Each one of us knew that, but if we focussed on it, we couldn’t function, so we did what we could instead. As I bent down, soaking the rags wrapped around my arrow heads with pitch, I felt two hands on my shoulders.

The cold prick of his touch, that shiver that came every time he was near, it alerted me to who this was. I leaned back into his arms, feeling the black smoke wrap around me. It didn’t seem to be destructive currently, my presence able to neutralise it, but the other archers eyed us warily.

“Aim true,” Bryson told me. “Shoot far and hopefully this will all be over soon and then…” The future, that was the tantalising mirage on the horizon. It beckoned us forward, tugging us along, despite ourselves.

“We’ll either be celebrating in my father’s hall,” I replied, “or in the feast hall of the gods themselves.”

He squeezed my arms, pressed a kiss to the back of my neck and then was gone again. When all of the distractions were gone, I settled down into that bottomless well of myself Nordred had helped me discover. We had a purpose today and I barked it out for the others.

“Today, we set fire to all of the hard work of the people of this keep. We destroy the fields that would otherwise feed it, but we make this sacrifice…”

You want death, I told the Morrigan inside my head. You want destruction.

“For the greater good of both our lands. Let’s set these fields afire, create a great conflagration and then see how those bastard Reavers fare, wading through fire and destruction. Light!”

The boys rushed forward with lit torches, touching them to the points of the arrows, but when Del moved to do mine, I smiled and breathed out, watching his eyes as I set the arrow alight with my mind. His eyes widened, then he shot me a great grin, thrilled by this display.

“Pull!”

The sound of hundreds of bows being drawn went up and down the line, my own creaking the same way. They felt the tension like I did, our bodies fighting the wooden staves of our bows, forcing it to flex in a way it did not want to do. That thrumming tension, if created a strange kind of excitement in us now, that was about to explode.

“Release!”

We all watched the flaming points sail through the sky. Some flames fluttered, threatening to go out, but I urged each one to burn bright as I watched them fly. Burning arrows weren’t all that effective in razing fields, but I was able to compensate for that, because as soon as they landed in the grain beyond I breathed life into each spark.

Then how about this, I told the Morrigan.

Burn, I urged the grass, feeling how dry, how brittle each stalk was. It was harvest time, and in any other year the people would be busying reaping and gathering each head laden with grain, ready for processing. Instead, with a wantonness that felt wrong to me, I made a sacrifice of all of this hard work to her.Burn, burn, burn, I commanded.

And burn it did. Cheers went up as flames began to spread, as they ate at the wheat in little mouthfuls at first, then great gulps, points of light forming here, there, everywhere.

“Fire at will!” I commanded and we did just that.

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