Still Stephenie Meyer's. Cannot wait to see Robert Pattinson's three up-coming films Bel Ami, Water for Elephants and Unbound Captives (especially this one, I liked the storyline and will just love to see him as a Comanche)

Chapter24/A fool's war

[Bella]

The sight of thousands of warriors armed to their teeth, intimidating astride powerful steeds would always overwhelm and stagger her senses. Armored men ready to face death served as a reminder of what she was to her people and at the same time, make her wish she could retreat to a hole on the ground and never come up again.

She took gulps of air and looked around, her eyes desperately searched for him. She felt her lungs constricting and she couldn't seem to take in enough air.

She heard a male voice … Emmett? He was inquiring, or asking her permission, she wasn't sure. He was crouching low, hands poised to hoist her up the imposing destrier.

She froze, her spine stiffening with the familiar fear. She took a deep breath and forgot to let it go.

"Where's Edward?" she gasped. She took a step back and would have fallen on her arse if not for the arm that shot out to steady her from behind. She bumped the back of her head on someone's chin and she heard a grunt of pain. She knew that grunt and this time she let out a sigh of relief.

"Where were you?" she said faintly, not turning around. She leaned against him.

Emmett was standing close enough to have heard her. He glanced sharply at the man behind her, and lifted a brow. He must have seen something that he didn't approve of and he turned away, scowling. He didn't move an inch, though, and could still hear their conversation.

She didn't care anymore.

"I ride with you," she whispered.

"No, you will ride with Emmett," was Edward's terse reply.

His brother snorted, still resolutely facing away.

"I want you!" she hissed.

"Fine, I'll give you my horse then," he bit back, low voiced.

"I want you not your damned horse!" she gritted.

"My lady -"

"Is something amiss, my liege?"

Edward let go of her arm suddenly, as if she was live coal. She looked up at Lord Kent, sitting nonchalantly on a big black, a polite smile on his face. His eyes slid to his eldest son and there was a question in them.

She forced an answering smile and looked to Edward meaningfully. Thus put on the spot – and he very well couldn't glare at her in front of his father - he said, "the queen is of a mind to ride with me, Father."

Lord Kent frowned.

Emmett took advantage of the brief pause. "Apologies, my lady, but my brother will likely have a hundred arrows targeted on him and it's best to be as far away as possible."

She paled and turned her face away. Breathe, Bella. Breathe!

She heard Edward talking quietly with his father and brother, but the panicked roaring in her ears was too much and she could barely make out his whispered words.

The nobles and generals were yet too far away from them to realize what was going on and for that she was grateful. She didn't think it was good for the men-at-arms' morale to see their queen dithering, afraid to ride a horse.

Only a few men knew she was in disguised. She could see Sigourney surrounded by at least 50 men. She was wearing her ermine-lined cloak and her face was veiled. As far as the entire mounted army was concerned, the queen was already atop her horse and waiting for a signal from Kent to ride out.

She heard horses' hooves clopping on the pebbled ground and knew the Cullens, except for Edward, had left to join Sigourney's squad.

She heard his great sigh and she blinked rapidly, refusing to let him see her near to tears, and not because she was afraid to ride a horse.

"Come on, Bella. I'll boost you up."

She turned and looked up at him, standing tall and close to her. He was momentarily startled by her direct gaze.

"Do you know why I took that arrow?" she said abruptly, again surprising him with her turn of the conversation.

He took a quick breath and let it out slowly.

"We'll talk about it later, aye?" he murmured. The rapid thunder of horses galloping over the hill signaled that the riding army has started to leave.

The little defiant voice in her mind suddenly retreated. She backed down. She didn't want to for she did possess that womanly instinct to cling to her man before a battle. She didn't know what she expected. If he knew she loved him, finally, would he stay behind and be safe?

Edward stared at her for a few more moments and said nothing.

She took deep breaths of the misty air.

"You don't want to know," she muttered. It wasn't a question.

"I want to know," he said softly after awhile, his deep green eyes boring into hers, "but not now."

Bella let him lift her up onto her horse, which neighed as if assuring her he would not throw her off and break her neck. She patted his thick neck.

Edward swung up on his big black and nudged closer, checking her seat and spurs. His face was inscrutable yet fierce. She had seen that expression before. He was a mounted battle-scarred warrior now, not her gruffly gentle guard who just days before, had taught her how to milk a cow.

He critically eyed her appearance, from the top of her covered head to her page-boy tunic and stockings. Her leggings were thicker and looser than what the other pages and squires were wearing upon the insistence of Emmett. He seemed scandalized by the sight of her calves and knees and had searched the whole castle for what he considered more suitable.

She self-consciously tugged her cap lower, covering her ears.

"At the first sign of an enemy, an attack or the first volley of arrows, you are to immediately fall behind and I will come for you," he said, his tone unyielding.

She nodded meekly. She has heard this before, in fact all night. As if everyone, even Breton, felt it their crucial obligation to pile warnings after warnings on her head. What were they expecting her to do?

"And Bella, if I find you throwing yourself again in front of me to take my arrow, I will lock you up in your own castle," he said grimly.

[Edward]

He had given up trying to cushion his harsh words. He tried courteous and proper when addressing her safety and look what had happened. She nearly died was what happened.

He forced his worry and frustration down, and produced a more necessary emotion - anger. Anger was good, anger would keep her alive. He didn't care that he was reprimanding the queen and he would do far more unpleasant things to keep her alive. She could order him stripped of his title after the war, was she inclined.

"Do I make myself clear?" he said coolly.

She shrugged - a delicate slight motion that fed his frustration.

"Bella …"

She spurred her horse and he couldn't believe she would just leave it at that, without an assurance that she would not purposely endanger herself for his sake. For others' sake, he quickly thought, for why would he think she would only risk her life for him?

He decided to let it go, for now.

It was a good two days ride before they reached Wyman Wurth, a place known to both Saxons and the old Gauls as the "last stand" in English soil. The invading Saxons and the Franks knew and cursed this treacherous pass, for many a battle was lost here, and it was the outsiders who were defeated.

Edward thought it was fitting that the latest war to be waged for the English throne would be in historical Wyman Wurth. Scouts have confirmed that this was where Argyll and his co-plotters and subversives were heading. It was plainly a call to war, this field of death, as it had always been for hundreds of years. This was where control of the kingdom would be fought. Again.

He caught up with his father, who was now riding with Sigourney.

He turned his head and looked over to his left where he knew Bella would be. She was flanked by Emmett and Sir Garett. He knew his brother would protect her with his life. But still, he felt his heart in his throat and his palms sweat at the sight of her vulnerable back.

[Bella]

Her whole body was aching and she felt as if her derriere was made of leather. Plus, her shoulder had started to throb around mid-day and thankfully, by nightfall she was used to the discomfort that she could ignore it.

At the moment she was wondering if she would sleep under the stars with the men, or was she supposed to sneak in Sigourney's tent later? She didn't mind sleeping outside for it was still a full moon, although waning. She needed to wash first though, for she could smell her sweat and her skin was caked with dirt and dust.

Emmett and Wessinger, or Sir Garrett to the Cullens, were huddled together and she didn't want to disturb them with such mundane and totally feminine request for a bath and change of clothes.

She had a pleasant surprise though, and she was glad he survived Balan Pass.

"Gud eve, me lady!" exclaimed Ollio.

Emmett immediately hissed at him. "Keep your voice down, lad," he admonished. The page flushed and bowed his head, ashamed. "Did my brother send you?"

"Aye, sir, Lord Kent did," he said.

Bella's heart skipped a beat at that, and she wondered which campfire he would be sleeping around this night. She stood up and gestured towards Ollio. "Come with me, I hear there's a lake nearby."

Emmett also stood up, obviously intending to escort her. She was about to tell him to stay, but she changed her mind. She murmured her thanks to him.

[Edward]

He was leaning against a large tree trunk, in the dark, watching the queen. He had excused himself from the generals' meeting earlier. He wanted to first make sure that Bella was settled down for the night before returning to the council of war leaders.

He was amused by Ollio's jubilant greeting to the queen. When she stood up and walked in the direction of the lake, he followed Emmett.

"I'll guard her," he told him smoothly.

Emmett frowned. "I'm her guard and you shouldn't be seen with her."

Edward ignored his words and his knowing look. "No one will see me. Let me escort her now."

"Very well," he said, sighing. He took a step forward towards camp and stopped. He grabbed his arm. "We'll talk about this later."

He shrugged him off and snorted. "There's nothing to talk about, brother."

Emmett let it go but he glared at him as he walked away.

"This is far enough," he said loudly. Bella quickly turned around and his heart soared at sight of her smiling face and in the moonlight, she was truly beautiful like a sidhe.

"Ollio, wait for us beyond yon trees," he said. The boy complied at once.

Edward turned his back on the lake to give her privacy. He heard a small splash of water and the rustle of clothes. He waited patiently. He could see Ollio's back standing near the copse of trees, too far to hear him.

"I'm done," she said quietly after some minutes, brushing past him and then she was facing him.

"Bella," he said, his voice too curt. Really, he should be more gracious when his intention was to apologize to her. "I do not excuse my behavior this morn and it was uncalled for. Forgive me, my lady."

"What? When you were growling at me and threatening to hold me prisoner in my own castle?"

"Yes, that one." And he smirked, he couldn't help it.

"You don't look contrite, sir," she said tartly.

He wanted to be lighthearted about it but he just couldn't manage good cheer at the moment, not on the eve of a battle.

"I … I believe I'm ready to hear it now," he said. "If you want to, that is," he quickly added.

All day her mysterious words haunted him. At first he shied away from it. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. But what was the harm in knowing? And what was her reason for saving him?

"Oh … now?" she said in a small voice. She sounded nervous and unsure, and he wondered if she had changed her mind.

She did a gesture that was unfamiliar. She scratched her head and then her eyes widened when her hand clutched her short hair. "Oh …" she said again.

"Are you unwell, Bella?"

"Yes! I mean no! I am fine. Only I've forgotten about my hair," she muttered, sounding, in Edward's opinion, rather like a small, flustered child.

He was sorry that he seemed to have put her in an awkward position. He should have just left things, unspoken things, to their proper place as secrets best buried.

"Bella, you don't have to tell me."

"I want to! I wanted to … but now I … I don't know how to say it," she said, the last words uttered in a whisper.

"You're the queen. You can say it however you want to say it," he said. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He wanted to reach out and touch her silky hair again but then remembered that they were likely being watched by others beyond the trees.

She let out a small laugh. "There are things I shouldn't say, queen or not. But I have to, now, before it's … too late." When she looked at him and smiled, there was an air of shyness to it.

"Edward," she said softly, almost a mere whisper. He barely heard his name but she was looking directly at him and had stepped closer. He watched her pretty mouth form his name again. "Edward, I -"

[Emmett]

He followed his brother, of course he did. He wasn't blind and even when he'd done some stupid things, he wasn't an idiot.

Edward was in love with the queen. He had known it since Balan Pass. And hearing said queen now about to declare herself, he jumped in. And God in Heaven forgive him.

"My lady!" he said, a bit rudely.

Both of them froze, eyes fixed on each other and at that moment, if there was any doubt in his mind before, he didn't have it now.

They loved each other.

He shouldn't have intruded, but he'd never been able to mind his own affairs, especially if it was the Cullens' affair.

"Accept my apologies for the interruption, my lady."

The queen said nothing, just watched his brother's face as he cleared his throat.

"Good eve, my lady," said Edward and without looking in his direction, he strode away.

Emmett was motionless, his mouth suddenly dry. Having decided to intrude, he didn't know how to follow it up. He racked his brain for excuses and ended up just staring at his feet.

Half expecting the queen to say "Off with your head," he gulped and waited.

"Yes," she said softly.

He looked up.

"I do."

She smiled.

Slowly, she approached him. When she was standing before him, she removed chain and pendant around her neck and placed it lightly in his hand. It was an elegant piece of feminine jewelry - silver chains and gold setting for the precious gems. A rare pink diamond surrounded by rubies, sapphires and emeralds.

"Give this to him when war is over." She closed her small fist around his larger one, hardly covering his own closed fist. Her hand was soft, fragile, and cold. "And tell him."

He nodded grimly.

[Argyll]

"My lord, the men awaits your bidding," his general reported.

He strode out of his tent and for a moment, feasted on the majestic vision of more than 20,000 men-at-arms and archers all bowing to his rule.

He raised his hands and obligingly spread his kingly blessings on his legion, like tossing crumbs to vagrants. He was assisted as he climbed atop his great steed, a purple emblem bearing England's seal draped on its flank.

A shout went up reverberating across the clearing and forests. Shouts of "King James!" rang in the air and he smiled and nodded magnanimously. When the noise died down, he beckoned his second-in-command.

"You are to bring Isabella to me alive."

"Aye, sire."

He nudged his horse forward. He was intending to further rouse his loyal allies and to inspect the ranks. He turned back to Agaston, "and try not to damage her too much."

[Edward]

There were 5,000 mounted warriors held back, on top of a knoll overlooking Wyman Wurth, while the other 10,000 was spread out in 50 columns on the battle field.

Some 300 were surrounding Sigourney, who was on her horse. Bella had dismounted along with the other pages and squires behind them, minding artillery and weapons, and ready to drag fallen knights off the field.

She wouldn't be required to run with the squires but he seriously doubted she would stay behind as instructed. He wouldn't put it pass her to do something reckless such as run amidst flying arrows to save an injured knight.

This morning he insisted she wore chain mail and helmet but the woman argued that she would stand out like a sore thumb because she was just a "page" and pages didn't wear body armor. She was correct but still, he forced her into a leather shield and strapped bow and arrow to her back. He discovered earlier today that she had a good eye and had the patience to aim at her target dead on.

Emmett was leading the archers, armed with deadly missiles dipped in poison, and standing full of menace at the onset of the battle, cross brows at the ready. Most of the bow men were armed with clubs, daggers and spears as second weapon.

They were not alone. Argyll's army has arrived.

Kent and his men waited patiently, arrogantly, as the traitors moved to their own formations. Like the enemies, they were armed with broadswords, lances, javelins, axes, maces and various other smaller hand weapons.

Edward estimated more than 20,000 warriors facing them, exceeding their number, but he barely showed concern. In fact it wasn't a problem at all. He was a Kent and they never cared about numbers, one against four in favor of the opponent was just fine with him.

His whole body was coiled tight, pulsing with the urge to ride hell-bent to war. To maim and to defeat, and to defend what was first the kingdom's and then his own.

Lord Worth the Earl of Aufforest, at the head of the infantry positions, has just raised the queen's purple banner signaling that they were prepared to charge.

It was time he joined his Father down below.

He turned and stared at Bella for several moments. She met his stare for stare. His whole heart was in his gaze and to his amazement, a tear rolled down her pale cheek. She nodded at him and he returned it, solemnly.

He spurred his horse to gallop faster when the heralds came on, signaling the charge at last. He didn't stop his thunderous run and was the first to break their formations after the bow men released their missile attack across the field.

[Carlisle]

It was noxious, the smell of battle, worse than the sickly putrid smell of a pox-diseased bugger.

The fighting could have gone on for hours but to the men on the field, it was all a blur of blood, blades clashing, grunting and yelling, and the terrible screams of maimed, injured men dying alone in the red field.

He saw the bastard, the king pretender, and charged in his direction. His son beat him to it and for a moment, as he watched Edward viciously swinging his broadsword and connecting with Argyll's shield, he felt resentment that it wasn't him who would bring death to the duke.

It had been years since his Esme had disappeared and he knew she was dead, just as he knew it was by this man's vile and treachery that killed Edward's mother.

Carlisle heard the hiss of a blade and turned, blocking it and in a blink, stabbed his spear in the knight's vulnerable side. He rose up and cleanly relieved the man of his head.

He turned back to Edward and Argyll in mortal combat.

Two more men came at him and he dispensed with them easily enough. He watched his son's back as he mercilessly pounded Argyll to the ground, breaking his shield in half. He saw men running to defend the betrayer and the bastard did a most shameful thing.

Argyll pushed Edward. He actually fell headlong against Edward's back while his son was occupied with hacking three other men. He stumbled to the ground and the bastard ran off! The man who was responsible for this war was running away.

Edward quickly regained his feet and for a moment, stared open-mouthed at the retreating Argyll. His men, which a moment before was trying to separate Edward's head from his shoulders, likewise stared dumbfounded at their departing king.

His son snapped out of it first and roaring, he swung his broadsword and mace and made short work of killing two out of three, while Carlisle took care of the third.

[Bella]

She tried to mind his warnings, she really did, but she couldn't make herself stay where was, hidden and safe.

She was continuously running to the edge of the field to help pages and squires bring in the wounded. Both Ollio and Breton, the only ones who knew who she was, would plead with her to stay behind the war zone but she ignored them, even when Ollio muttered that Edward would have his head if he saw her even remotely close to the battle lines.

It was when she was helping Breton drag another wounded when she looked up and saw Edward's blazing red hair glinting under the sun. She dropped the knight's arm and threw an apologetic look at the squire and ran to the field, only to be restrained by Ollio.

She stood there, her gaze fixed on Edward.

She saw him dragged from his horse and they – about five bulky warriors – fell on him, broadswords and maces raised to pound and hack through armor and bone. She screamed, calling out his name.

And like an avenging archangel, Edward broke through the pile of men and rose up roaring, berserked, bloody and wounded.

Bella screamed again when six more men joined in what looked like his execution, and forcibly took him from the other men. But Edward was not down yet, for he was still swinging his mace, causing mayhem and death around him.

She saw two of his attackers – one of them a familiar figure - knocked him down, a terrible blow to his head, and he fell.

Kent's men ran to their leader but it was too late. The men carried the unconscious Edward away.

He was merely unconscious, wasn't he? she told herself, fighting off a fainting spell. If he was dead they would have just left him there! she thought, crying and hysterical.

She felt her bile rise up from her stomach to her throat when one of the men behind Edward's limp body turned and she saw his face.

It was de Marseille, Montgomerie's nephew.

Bella struggled against Ollio and screamed bloody threats at him. But the boy, for once, wasn't afraid of her. He too had witnessed Edward's fall and abduction. He tightened his hold on her when she tried to kick him.

"Find Carlisle, Emmett, anyone!" she yelled at him.

He let her go, finally, and ran into the killing field.

She fell to the ground and violently heaved.

[Laurent]

"Heal me, woman. I've done your bidding. Cure me!"

He lay far from the field, away from Argyll's men.

He clutched his side and felt his lower body going numbed. He never felt Cullen's broadsword, nor did he realized he had been stabbed in his right side. It was deep, the wound, and he knew it was fatal.

Victoria stood still and silent, gazing down at Cullen's inert form on the ground.

He recognized that crazed look on her face and in that moment, he knew he was going to die. The witch would let me him die, let him bleed to death for she had him now.

Edward Cullen was hers.

His last dying thought was that his uncle was right.

He was a Goddamned fool.

***a/n

This ends Part 2: "The hunt".

Sidhe - Fairy

Brief summary of Part 3: "The fires of hell" – Captured and imprisoned by Victoria, Edward struggles to fight her off, even in chains. But her brand of torture is not only physical but a mental one for what will be revealed to him, about his wife and his true parentage and origin, has the potential of breaking his virtuous spirit.