Page 43 of The Wolf Queen

And how long would that last, once they saw the Reavers? I wondered. I held his gaze, seeing all the wild hope and fervent belief. For a while, the people of Snowmere had felt the same about me. They’d believed that I could save them from the Reavers too.

“We can send a bird to Stonewall Garrison,” Bryson said. “They can send men to assist.”

“That might be hard to do, sire,” Higgins said. “The big knobs there, they don’t tend to do nothing unless they have orders with a royal seal on it.”

But his protests fell away as the prince retrieved two things. One, a small silver medal with a black sun and a crescent moon around it, much like Higgins’ larger one. The second was his seal. Not the same as his father’s but recognisable as belonging to the crown prince. My grandfather opened a roll-top desk and rustled around pulling out paper, ink and a fresh quill, then some sealing wax. Bryson wrote a short note, then wrapped the paper around the medallion and addressed it to the commander. Taking a taper, he walked over to the fireplace to light it, then used it to light the wax stick, carefully dripping it so that the message and the medal were well-sealed within. He gave the note to the manservant at the door, then turned back to the room.

"That medallion will bring help more quickly than the words I've written or my seal."

“We’ll wait to get word back from the garrison,” my grandfather said, “but that won’t stop us from making our preparations. Now, Dane, where is the proper entrance to the cave?”

We pushedaround markers on the map, making bloodless decisions about how we would stage our counter attack, but that’s not how it would really be. Whether or not it was from me or Callum, the Morrigan would get her due. A shiver ran down my spine as I stopped looking at the map to gaze around the table.

At Dane who was taking a lead role in the stategising. His father had raised him to this in the same way Linnea tried to force me to improve my needlecraft. Next, my eyes flicked to Weyland who stood leaning over the table, adding his own thoughts, pointing out holes in his brother’s suggestions and then countering with amendments. Gael stood back, watching, waiting, blue fire appearing and disappearing at his fingertips without him realising. Axe was discussing what would happen on the ground with great gusto, buoying up the spirits of Higgins and his fellows. Of course he’d be the one to maintain morale.

It’s customary to make an offering for battle.I hadn’t heard the Morrigan’s voice in my head for some time, and the sound made me go cold and stiff.Who will you give me to win the day?My eyes slid over Selene and her Maidens, then my grandfather, before settling on Bryson.Not him, she insisted.He has no value to you, so he is not a fitting sacrifice for me.

So take me then, I replied without hesitation.You’ve already taken what’s precious to me…I sucked in a breath, feeling a phantom stab of the same pain in my womb that I’d felt that day in the caves under Snowmere.Why settle for part of me when you can have all of me?

You assume I don’t already possess you, body, mind and soul, she replied with a low snicker.But we’ll see, little queen. We’ll see. Even the goddess herself stops and waits to see the outcome of a battle. We roll the dice like men do in a tavern, waiting to see how they fall.

To our advantage, that’s what I prayed desperately, as I watched the plans unfold.

To our advantage,I swore the next morning, as all of our men massed in the foyer of my grandfather’s mansion.

“You needn’t come,” I told him stiffly as I stood before him. I looked his armour over critically, looking for any weaknesses: leather that had rotted, spots of rust, something that might mean life or death on the battlefield. He watched my inspection with amusement, reaching out and patting my head with a mailed fist. I felt the heaviness of the steel and welcomed it, for it was one more element of his armour that could keep him safe.

“I should say the same of you.” He reached over and straightened the seam of my leather armour slightly, then flicked off an imaginary mote of dust. “Most Granian men would see it a terrible loss of face to have their womenfolk fighting by their side.”

“Leading the fight,” I corrected. That had been argued about at length between my grandfather and Dane, but Dane had won. If I was to be queen, I would have to win people over, one battle at a time. This one was somewhat easier for me because the enemy was easy to spot. “We will prevail… Grandfather.”

He smiled then, his whole face lighting up.

“We will, darling girl. We will.”

Apparently he’d hadto go down last night and talk long and hard with his knights and I knew why, even though I had not attended the meeting. Making them see the impending threat. They would most likely subscribe to the theory that my enemy’s enemy is my friend, but even the most staunch monarchist would have to grant this. The Reavers were the monsters of legend. This was their turn to pit themselves against that ancient foe and it was a strange knight who did not relish that challenge.

But they didn’t know what they would be facing.

I felt their blindness, as I stood amongst the men, in the way knights jostled and joked, in the way Higgins and the local chapter of the wolf cult did the same. Axe was amongst them and their initial inherited suspicion of a blue-eyed Strelan quickly faded when he started passing a flask of rum around. I pursed my lips. While I appreciated his efforts, I needed everyone to focus.

“So how do I create a pack from two peoples who have historically hated each other for hundreds of years?” I muttered to Selene as the Maidens clustered around me.

“Find a common enemy,” she replied. “Make them see that, under all the bullshit, they are the same. Men fight well to save themselves, but they fight the best when they’ve got something to fight for.”

Right then.

I dragged up an antique-looking chair. Painted in white and what was undoubtedly real gold leaf, its spindly legs would collapse if any of the men here tried to sit on it. Climbing on top of it, I clapped my hands sharply for attention. When they turned, I saw in the knights’ expressions what I would’ve if I’d tried the same with Kris, my girlhood crush, and my father’s knights. Then I remembered what I was.

“Gentlemen, you must be wondering what we are fighting today,” I said, my voice ringing out through the expansive foyer. “Or even why we fight. I can answer both questions. Reavers.” I watched mutterings and murmurs run through the crowd but it was quickly stifled as I continued. “These beasts once ravaged Strelae but became creatures of myth and legend there. Believe me when I say to you that they have returned to Strelan lands. You might find that a cause for celebration. But we have reason to go on the offensive against the Reavers. For their leader is a man who remembers the past, before the Granians came here, and will stop at nothing to remove all signs of human life from these lands as well.”

I looked around, trying to catch the eye of every man here.

“Reavers are beasts who’ll burn your cities and your towns, who’ll slaughter your animals and raze your crops to the ground, who’ll take your wives, daughters, mothers and sisters and rape them until their throats bleed from screaming and then, as they lie broken in the ashes, they’ll slit their throats before you. You’ll die, they’ll die and the bastard things will conduct a bloody orgy in the ashes left behind. Everything you’ve created, everything you love, will be reduced to rubble and dirt and there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

I had their attention now. All smiles were gone, replaced by grim faces and hardened eyes. I hadn’t challenged their hatred of Strelans in my call to action. And the enemy I pointed them towards? Threatened to destroy everything they held dear—their families, their lands, their way of life—just as it was destroying the Strelans.

“Unless we stop them now. Bayard is on the border between the two countries. You’ll know of family or friends who live just a stone’s throw from the town. Now you know what will happen to them if the Reavers come over the border. And so do we.” I sucked in a breath, my whole body shuddering as I summoned forth the vision. “They are faster, harder, more vicious than any of the stories you’ve been told of the wargen, and they will not stop. Not for injury nor blood loss, for they are inhuman in that regard.” Some men frowned, looking at each other apprehensively, while others muttered curses. I raised my voice. “But we have this.”

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