Then he turned his back and stormed toward the door, tucking her knife away in his pocket. Neala watched him go for a moment, paralyzed by so much happening in such a short time. But then she saw it in her mind's eye. Ansel would order his men to use those catapults and decimate the entire rebellion. Ansel would fight against Cailean, and it was likely that one of them would die.
There were two impossible options. Either her brother would die before she had a chance to meet him, and the rebellion would be destroyed, or Ansel would be killed. And… even if Ansel was victorious, if he fully capitulated to his father's wishes… he would be lost to her forever.
Cailean.
Ansel.
The rebellion.
Neala couldn't allow it. No matter what it would cost.
She screamed wordlessly, throwing herself forward and knocking him over. He snarled, startled, but before he could get back to his feet, she had sprinted past him and reached the door.
Then she pulled it closed, trapping them both inside with no way out as the assault began around them.
21
"Stay close," Cailean warned Ferda, who crept along the corridors behind him while Maeve carried on a few steps ahead. "I had tae nearly fight Darren tae bring ye along with ye injured like that. Kier will never forgive me if ye dinnae come home."
"Worry about yerself," Ferda retorted. "I can fight better with a sling than ye can with both arms workin'."
"Keep yer voices down!" Maeve hissed back from the front of the group. They and the small group of warriors snuck through the abandoned dark corridors of the castle, the sounds of battle echoing through the walls all too close to them. "If we're caught?—"
"Let them catch us!" one of the warriors snarled. "Me blade is thirsty."
Cailean heard a man's scream from somewhere close by, and his heart lurched. He thought of Darren and Senan, leading the charge, and prayed to whatever god was listening that they would survive the battle. His heart was stammering in his chest as they continued their infiltration, and his bickering with Ferda was serving a much greater purpose. If he allowed himself to think, the fear for his friends and family would overwhelm him—not to mention the fact he was fighting off all kinds of emotion about being in this castle again.
It was too familiar. And too different from anything he could ever remember.
He must focus on Neala and only Neala. Everything else could wait. Everything else could?—
"Incomin'!" Maeve yelled, and a split second later, a host of guards slammed around the corner, their swords already raised, roaring with fury.
Cailean instantly engaged in the fight, as the others around him battled fiercely. There was no chance to take prisoners here, no space for mercy. These guards were fighting to kill, and it was all the rebels could do to end their lives first if they wanted to survive.
Ferda cried out in panic as a sword sliced her good arm, and Cailean spun around from his own attacker to try to reach her. He was forced to duck, though, as another guard aimed a blow at him.
"Nay!" he shouted as Ferda's attacker rounded on her, but suddenly Maeve was there, her weapon whirling, and she cut down the attacker in an instant. Then Ferda was at Cailean's side in a blink, her own little dagger piercing right through the eye of the man who was threatening Cailean. The two women launched back into the fray, and Cailean joined them in an instant.
The battle ended with two of their own seriously wounded, but all ten of the False King's guards either down or dead.
"Get them back tae the camp," Maeve commanded Ferda with more authority in her voice than Cailean had ever heard there, indicating the two injured men. "An' stay there. We cannae risk any more of ye."
"But—" Ferda started.
"There's more fightin' tae come," Fergus told his cousin quietly. "Listen tae our queen."
The words sent a fierce pride surging through Cailean as he saw Ferda nod. Maeve was every inch a queen, not just because of their bond, but because of who she was. He loved her with every inch of his being, and he couldn't have picked anyone better to be by his side as they took back his home.
Ferda and the wounded soldiers headed back in the direction of the secret passages, and Maeve moved to Cailean's side.
"I love ye," he breathed.
"Hold ontae that," she replied. "Because there'll be more bloodshed before this is over."
Neala stumbled back, tripping and falling hard on her backside as Ansel advanced upon her. Pure rage contorted his features into something unrecognizable as he loomed over her, a bloodthirsty aura dripping from him.
"Ye've trapped us, ye—" he started, then cut himself off. "Are ye happy now? We'll die in here!"
