Wave two, take your positions. We ll see you on the other side," they both heard from across the room.
"It's time to go." He took her arm and led her across the room towards the door and they stepped out into the night air where Cahill and the other city elders were mounting up on giant horses. They could hear the sounds of battle on the air and see the glow of flames to the east. "Can you ride?" Nate asked her.
She eyed the monstrous beasts but only nodded, "I can keep a seat."
He cupped his hands to form a step for her and boosted her up onto a dappled gray mare, perhaps slightly smaller than all the rest. Miranda leaned down to rip her skirts at the sides, freeing her legs to ride astride; a sudden gust of wind caught the torn fabric and whipped it around her in the moonlight. She looked down to find him gazing at her, a curious expression on his face before he lifted the sword he had gifted her. His hands withdrew from hers as she took up the weapon, but he lingered to rub his thumb along her knee, the same odd look on his face before he turned and swiftly mounted a nearby black horse. Miranda and Nathanial urged their mounts forward to take their place with the others, he to the right of Cahill and her next to Nate. Ms. Kensington was to Cahill's left and she looked glorious; dressed in an old fashioned ladies riding habit, an ornate leather corset around her chest. She even had the small round hat on, and the matching set of leather gloves; the final touch a sword belt around her waist from which hung a beautifully tooled scabbard.
Nate side-stepped his horse and leaned over to her, "She's always known how to make an impression." Again, he had that look on his face and his voice was nearly a whisper, "You outshine her, even so."
A little of the somber weight lifted from her chest at his words. "About last night..." she began; and she might have been about to apologize or maybe begin the argument again, but he cut in.
"Not now, I promised I would explain later and I will."
She shook her head, "No, Nate..." but she was interrupted again, this time by Cahill as his voice lifted to carry his words to them all.
"Damn Yanks have changed the rules!"
Calhoun looks across the carnage the army of Gangrel have become and whispers into the cold night air, "Dear merciful god in heaven..."
"Fall in together now! Hold the line! It's time to show them we didn't roll over and abandon our city. Live or die ... we DON'T stop until we reach the other side!"
Calhoun glances to Miranda, "Hold on tight now."
"Advance..." Cahill called out and shadow court's line moved forward to the edge of the hill over looking the battlefield. From this vantage they could fully see the death and destruction that was happening below. Kindred everywhere cried out in pain and rage; mixed with the bellows of the moving earth it was a din that caused fear deep within their dead hearts.
"STEADY!" Cahill cautioned, some of the horses wickering, snorting, eager to enter the fray.
A bugle sounded, and Cahill lifted his sword high into the air, "This is where we hold them! This is where we fight! This is where they die!" Bringing the sword down he screamed, "CHARGE!" His weapon flashes silver in the moonlight and the bugle sounds again; the shrill note to charge splitting the night air.
Miranda hardly has to control her mount at all; it leaps forward with its brethren, battle hungry and trained. Their line moves with fluid grace down the hill, the opposition falling easily before their combined might until they crash into a wall of bodies with a thunderous rumble. For the first time in her life she didn't feel weak or useless. Her sword slashed at the limbs that sought to pull her from her horse, severing hands and arms and heads from her enemies' bodies. A black shape pulled itself up by her mare's mane and reached for her, but she bared her fangs and hissed, her visage deadly with dread gaze and it fell back to the ground to be trampled by her horse's hooves. All around her, battle raged and Miranda let loose a triumphant, exultant cry from deep within her chest, bringing forth the full might of her majestic presence. A pocket of space formed around her, similar to that around Ms Kensington as they kept their foes at bay, allowing the others room to kill.
An explosion rocked her world and she flew to the ground, senseless for a long while. When she could see again, she and the others were in a deep crater, the creature in the middle and it's minions all round them. A black wave of bodies rushed her, and Miranda fought to keep from being overwhelmed. Before she could understand what was happening, she felt herself being pulled away; the creatures attacking her looking around in confusion. She struggled, only to hear a hissed command in her ear, "Quiet!" and she fell still. All around her the fight continued, but no one was paying her or her captor any attention, as if none could see them. She turned in his arms to look at him.
"Do you have any idea what I just went through seeing those monsters surround you? Stay with William and I, don't get yourself in danger like that!"
She pushed away from him, hurt in her eyes; dissapointed that he couldn't see how much it meant to her to stay strong. "I don't need a nursemaid, I can take care of myself!"
His hands gripped her forearms, keeping her close and his eyes blazed with his beast. "This is hell, hell! None of us alone can withstand death here, least of all..."
"Least of all me? That's what you meant isn't it? Weak and foolish girl, that's what I've always been."
His growl rivaled the angry cries of battle around them as he let loose a string of invectives. All she caught was, "infuriating!" before she was crushed up against him, his lips pressed to hers as he for once gave free reign to the passion inside him. Miranda's body sang in response, a deep shiver of feeling passing through her as she clung to him.
She thought she would be happy trapped forever in that moment until a voice screamed in her head, "GET OUT OF THERE! RUN!" She pulled back from him in shock, and then they both heard Ms. Kensington, echoing the voice in her head. "EVERYBODY OUT NOW, MOVE! GET AWAY!" the elder Toreador screeched, having picked up the same warning Miranda did.
She locked eyes with Nathanial before he scooped her up into his arms, carrying them both with unnatural swiftness from the battlefield. They had gotten close to the edge when a blinding flash of light knocked him to his knees and when it cleared he held her tightly for a moment before letting her go. She slipped from his arms and looked at him, feeling the echo of something bigger then they, an all embracing feeling of love and perfect contentment. She would hold onto that feeling, perhaps tighter than any of the others.
He rose to his feet and held out a hand for her, she grasped it and rose wearily but gracefully to her feet. Looking around she saw Emma and Art, bearing the wounded Xaviar between them. The rest of the surviving kindred were also gathering as she placed her hand on Nate's arm to walk with him towards the cabin.