Just as it’d been in his dreams.
The Saxons rallied around her as if to protect her.
Without thinking, Valteri whirled his horse about, trying to reach her, but the men around him prevented it.
Thorn headed for him while Shadow dispatched the man he was fighting and started for Ariel.
A shadow passed over his body. Valteri turned in his saddle, expecting the sword to slice his thigh as it’d always done in his dream.
Only this time, it wasn’t his thigh they aimed for. His stroke too low, his attacker’s wooden pitchfork bounced off his blade and straight into his heart.
Valteri gasped at the sudden pain that seeped through his chest. His sight dulling, he fell from his saddle.
“The Norman bastard is dead!”
Ariel flinched as that fetid cry went up among the Saxon men.
“Nay!” she screamed, knowing who must have fallen.
She picked up the hem of her kirtle and ran across the field. Men scattered from her path, staring at her as if her presence frightened them even more than the demons they feared.
“Ariel!”
She heard Shadow’s call, but paid no heed as she continued to race across the fallen bodies, searching for the familiar form and colors of her husband.
Maybe he hadn’t fallen.
Mayhap he was…
Then, she saw him.
And Thorn, who was holding him in his arms.
Valteri’s light blond braid was coated with blood. His helm and sword were next to him where Thorn must have placed them.
Screaming out in denial, she ran to his side.
This isn’t real.
Her mind refused to accept what her eyes saw.
But as she fell to her knees beside them, she knew it was no dream. Anguish twisted through her body. Tears filled her eyes and her heart shattered.
How? How could this have happened? He was never harmed in battle.
Thorn met her gaze and snarled. “A fucking pitchfork. Seriously?”
Shadow winced as he stood above them. “Why do we protect humans, again?”
“Ariel?” Valteri’s hoarse voice was scarce more than a croak as he squeezed her hand.
“Shh.” She used a corner of her cloak to wipe the red blood from his lips. From his pale cheeks. “You must save your strength.”
“Nay, ’tis mortal.” His accepting words ripped her soul asunder. He reached his hand up and touched her cheek. A slow smile spread across his face. “’Tis as wondrous as I thought.”
She frowned at him and the misplaced happiness in his gaze. “What is?”
“Dying in your arms.”
