Her fingers curled into the reins until the leather bit into her skin.
Honor.
The word stung Alora more than the smell of blood drifting on the wind. Lord Basile had died on her orders.
Caelum nodded stiffly. “Forgive me, sire. I was not quick enough to stop the horn-bearer. We lost the element of surprise.”
“Yes,” the king said. “But that was to be expected.”
The ensign officer rode off on a gallop towards a high ridge. There he waved a yellow flag.
From the smog the ships of Argyle emerged like phantoms, sails dark emerald against the flame-colored horizon, led by Admiral Alder on his flagship.
For a heartbeat, Alora held her breath.
Then the Calveron fleet roared to life with horns. Sails flared open and a mass of ships turned to meet them.
Alora nodded at the second ensign officer waiting beside her. His back flag swept the air, signaling Stormwatch Keep. At once, Argyle’s soldiers posted on the walls lit the fortress’ cannons. A rumble shook the keep as fire burst from its battlements. Cannon fire streaked across the water and smashed into Calveron’s ships with earsplitting booms.
Alora’s lips curved in a fleeting smile.
This was the edge of her plan.
To catch Calveron in a crossfire between Stormwatch’s guns and Argyle’s own. For a moment, the sea lit with fire and splintering wood, explosions thundering through the night as enemy vessels reeled under the assault.
Then the first rowboats scraped onto shore. Calveron’s soldiers poured out in glittering ranks, storming the beach with steel and spellfire to retake the keep. Lord Graye drew his sword, leading the infantry to clash on the sand.
Caelum slid his helm over his blood-streaked face.
“You don’t have to go,” Alora called to him. She couldn’t help but feel if he went down there, she would never see him again.
He smiled up at her and rested his armored hand over his heart where he had tucked her handkerchief. “I must lead myfather’s men. Should this all come to fail, may I pass through the Gates swiftly.”
“Caelum…” Her voice broke on his name, lost to the sea-wind. He kicked his heels and galloped into the dark without looking back.
Drawing his sword, his horse spurred into the fray, his cry of battle rising as the first Hydras tore from the waves. Their shrieks splitting the night as they fell upon their army. The earth trembled beneath the force of their wails, men scattering like reeds before a storm. Crimson streaked the sand, staining the foam as the tide dragged it back to sea.
Alora squeezed her eyes shut against the screams. Rune should have been here by now. She searched the moonless sky, squinting through smoke, but saw nothing.
Laurent cursed under his breath, spyglass to his eye. He shoved it into her hands, and she raised it with trembling fingers.
Thalion led his fleet and Calveron had the numbers and the strength. Argyle’s ships were breaking beneath their cannons. The first went down with the last of the twilight, swallowed whole in fire.
Her throat closed when she spotted it, Argyle’s emerald-bannered flagship. Flames devoured the deck. The proud Admiral stood at the prow, sword raised in defiance, before the smoke consumed him.
“Down!” Laurent seized her, dragging her from the saddle and shielding her with his body as a cannonball slammed into the ridge. The earth convulsed, dirt and smoke raining from the sky. Stormwatch’s wall shuddered below as another blast sundered its stone. A second strike tore into the army’s ranks, screams carrying up to them with the force of splintering magic.
Laurent gripped her shoulders, his eyes flashing with anger and fear. “You said he would come! Where is he?”
Alora rose shakily on her legs. “He will be here, father. He gave his word!”
Her father scowled. Stepping back he mounted his horse again and drew his sword.
He nodded to the last remaining unit of his army, and the lords also drew their weapons. “Argyle may fall tonight, men. To that I say, we fight till death claims us!”
The men bellowed in response.
“No, wait!” Alora cried. “Father, please. He will come.”
