When they were dead on the ground, the wolf walked back to Aggie’s side, pushing into her with his body. She could hear again now that the danger had passed, so she nodded at him. “Thank you.”
He pushed her again. He was offering to escort her home, and she silently accepted. If for no other reason than how many times in her life would she be able to claim a god had walked her home?
With one last look at where her brother had stood and with a silent prayer that he would be safe, she headed home, the god by her side.
Chapter 33
“That conniving, evil, whore of a god!”
Éibhear heard a voice he hadn’t heard for five years but knew so wel . Annwyl’s voice. But when he turned to look at his brother’s mate, Celyn punched him in the face.
Snarling, he returned his focus to his cousin. Annwyl and why she was in these tunnels could wait.
A horn he knew was not a Southland horn sounded in the distance and Edana, who’d been trying, with Austel , to separate him and Celyn, abruptly stopped.
“Edana?” Breena asked, and Éibhear heard the warning in his cousin’s voice. The fear. That’s when the ground shuddered beneath them and Edana caught hold of Éibhear and Celyn by the neck of their breastplates, her tail whipping out and wrapping around one of the old cave rocks that jutted from the ground. Not even a second later, the ground opened up. So stunned by this, they al dropped. But Edana held him and Celyn. Breena caught Annwyl, and Nesta caught Breena, yanking both onto firm land. But no one, absolutely no one, caught Austel . And the drop was so short, even if he’d thought about it, his wings would have been of no use. Besides. It wasn’t the drop that kil ed him—it was the row after row of planted, sharpened steel stakes that did.
Éibhear only had a moment to realize his friend and many of his comrades were impaled on those stakes before Irons flew out of the opening that ran the entire length and width of the tunnel. Al these months while they’d been building the tunnel, the Irons had been building one right underneath. Waiting for this moment.
“Everyone out!” Edana screamed. “Out! Move!” She threw Celyn and Éibhear and the pair spread their wings, went up. But for Éibhear al he could stil see was Austel . The weight of his friend’s body dragging him down that stake, his wide-open eyes glazing over as he tried twice to breathe, then stopped trying altogether.
“Éibhear!” Celyn yel ed. “Come on!”
An Iron charged, ramming a steel spike at Éibhear. But Éibhear caught it and with one claw, bent the metal.
And that’s when a rage he’d never known took over.
Like it had a few hours ago, the ground beneath Gwenvael’s claws shook. He looked down, expecting to see the ground beneath him cracking or for something to explode, as the Irons had done to the Polycarp Mountains. But there was nothing. At least nothing around them. Then he heard one of his younger cousins screaming from the entrance to their cave.
“The tunnels! They’re coming in from under the tunnels!”
Gwenvael looked at his brothers and they al thought the same thing at the same time. Éibhear.
But then the Irons they were fighting suddenly charged, pushing them al back.
Breena stil held the royal in her arms while her fel ow troops who’d been working on the tunnel—but hadn’t fal en into the death trap below—were pouring into the cavern. Their older sister Delen was trying to get everyone under control so they could assemble a counterattack. But they were young recruits. Mostly privates and unseasoned. For some it was their first real battle and they were panicking.
“Put me over there!” Annwyl ordered her. “On that boulder.”
Breena did as she was told and Annwyl with a bel ow that could shake the wal s cal ed out, “OY!” Every private and corporal, used to being yel ed at and ordered about by superiors, immediately came to attention.
“Calm down!” the monarch ordered. “Now. You don’t have time for al this. You—” She pointed her sword at Celyn and several of his siblings. “Get back in there and help Éibhear. He’s in there fighting alone.” When they only stood there, gawking at her, “Don’t just stand there, you twats! Move! ” They did.
“You—” She pointed at Delen. “Get your mother. Get Ghleanna. Get them al ! Tel them what happened. Tel them the Irons are coming in through the tunnels.”
“But—”
“They’l overwhelm you lot, break through, and destroy our army from the inside out. We can’t afford that, so move!” Edana stepped forward. “What do you need from us, Annwyl?”
“The Cadwaladr triplets.” She grinned. “You’re al coming with me.”
Fearghus dodged an Iron spear to the face and blocked a sword to the gut. One of his cousins came in from behind and shoved her broadsword into the back of one dragon while he took out the legs of the other.
“Fearghus!” Delen dropped next to them. “Where’s Mum? Ghleanna?”
He pointed with his sword. “A mile that way. Why?”
“The Irons.” Delen shook her head. “They tore open our tunnel, are pouring in through it now. Annwyl says—” Fearghus faced his cousin, ignoring the Iron at his feet trying to drag himself off without legs. “Annwyl? Annwyl’s here?”
“Aye. She went off with the triplets.” Delen shook her head. “We’re overrun in there, Fearghus.”
“Briec! Gwenvael! Go!”
“What about you?” Briec asked. Gwenvael was already cal ing his troops to fol ow him.
“Don’t worry about me. Éibhear’s in there,” he reminded him. “And Mum wil have our asses if we let anything happen to that little bugger.” Colonel Ampius sat on his horse beside Lord Laudaricus Parthenius.
“How much longer?” Parthenius asked Ampius.
“Soon, sir. Overlord Thracius has the Southland dragons trapped between his armies and the Hesiod Mountains. And we’re holding off Annwyl the Bloody’s army in the pass entrance.
“Good. Once Thracius gives the order, we move in to crush what remains of the queen’s army.”
“Yes, sir.”
Another commander leaned over and warned, “More dragons, sir.”
“Use the spears.”
“Yes, sir.”
The other commanders cal ed out Laudaricus’s orders, al owing him to sit back and watch. The soldiers pul ed the giant catapult around, several twenty-five-foot wood spears already loaded into the mechanism.
The dragons flew closer, dodging the arrows shot at them from the ground.
“Hurry up with those spears, you worthless bastards!” Ampius yel ed out.
The order was given and the spears unleashed. They were near their target when the three dragons turned at the same time, the spears shooting past them. It was strange, how the three dragons moved at the same time, in the same way. Usual y at least one dragon was struck when the others scrambled to avoid the spears.
The dragons continued toward them.
“Get the spears ready again,” Parthenius ordered.
The spears were quickly re-loaded and aimed. The three dragons were close now. Nearly over them. If they moved lower to attack them directly, the spears or arrows would definitely take them down. But instead the one in the middle tilted to the side, something fal ing from its back.
“What the hel s is that?” Parthenius asked him.
“I don’t know, sir, but—” Ampius’s words stopped, his mouth open as a woman landed on the back of Parthenius’s white stal ion, two swords slamming into their leader’s shoulders and into his spine, kil ing him instantly.
The woman yanked her blades out, and pushed Parthenius’s body off the restless horse, settling into the saddle.
Grinning, she looked at the men surrounding her.
“Hel o, lads.” Her grin widened, and Ampius felt real fear for the first time in a long time. “Name’s Annwyl.” Fearghus and Ragnar stood side by side now, fighting their way through the Irons pushing in. But with his brothers’ troops in the caves, they were quickly becoming overwhelmed and they both knew it.
“Pul back!” Ragnar yel ed after a nod from Fearghus. “Pul back!”
Their troops pul ed back, but the Irons pushed forward, the cal for a charge made.
“Shit,” Ragnar muttered.
“Yeah. I know.” But to the troops he yel ed, “Shields!” Their troops lined up, shields locked. “Hold the line!” The Irons crashed into their shields. “Hold the line!” Fearghus yel ed, slamming his sword into the Irons trying to push them even farther back.
Moments from cal ing the order to retreat—something he was loath to do—a light flashed and Fearghus watched as dragons and human soldiers from . . . somewhere, he didn’t know, crashed into the Irons, battering and crushing them.
The Iron troops who’d been advancing turned toward this new attack, rushing forward to assist their comrades.
From the pile of dragons and humans a figure rose. What looked to be an Iron, al steel-colored but with long hair like Southlanders wore, and a patch over one eye, he stood tal , glaring out of that one good eye at everything around him.
“Who the battle-fuck is that?” Fearghus asked.
“I think that’s the . . . wait. Is that Izzy?”
Fearghus leaned forward, squinting. And, yes. Yes, that was Izzy, climbing onto the back of Branwen, the pair taking off.
“What the hel s—”
The Irons were rushing back into formation, their commanders getting them organized. But the Iron with the eye patch didn’t seem to be in the mood to wait. He gave the order and the Irons with him went on the attack. But they didn’t attack the Southlanders, but the other Irons. Thracius’s soldiers.
In the midst of it, Fearghus saw two other dragons get to their claws. “It’s Rhona.” He grinned. “And your brother.” Ragnar put his head down, briefly closed his eyes. “He’s alive,” he said softly. “He’s alive.”
“And somewhere around here is Annwyl. Kil ing someone or something I’m sure.”
Brannie landed behind some trees, their view of the fighting clear. “Let’s find Annwyl,” she told Izzy.
“No.”
“No? What do you mean no?” Brannie had assumed that would be the one thing, the only thing Izzy would want to do.
“Look over there.”
She fol owed where Izzy pointed. “Yeah?”
“That has to be him, right? Look at that armor . . . and the way he’s standing high up on that hil , giving out orders. That’s gotta be him.”
“That’s gotta be who? What are you talking about?”
“That’s Overlord Thracius.”
“So?” When Izzy said nothing, Brannie exploded. “You have lost your mind!”
“Hear me out—”
“No!”
“They’l never expect us.”
“There’s a good reason they would never expect us. Because I’m a lowly private and you’re a squire.”