Thank you Fyrebyrd, 2brown-eyes, Gabby1017, and Ceceprincess1217 for prereading, and to jayhawkbb for editing, even though she was under the weather this week. She's a rockstar. Please remember, I like to fiddle, so all mistakes are mine.
Previously ...
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"They've sent out the call to close the castle gates and organize the men." Angela swallows hard, and when her worried eyes meet mine, dread fills my gut. "Rhema is approaching from the west."
Chapter 27
With my chamber windows facing the west, I have a bird's-eye view of the first of Aro's men to reach the far edge of the city. The sheer number of them is intimidating, and an icy shiver races down my spine.
With the sun setting behind them, their lit torches illuminate their hulking forms, even at such a distance. They move as one, a dark mass of warriors here to destroy us, and it takes everything within me not to cry.
"There is no reason to be fearful, Isabella." The queen's voice startles me, and I turn to face her.
"Your Majesty. I did not hear you come in."
"No need, child." She turns her full attention my son. Wide-eyed and alert, he is cradled in my arms. "I only wanted to come and see my grandson." She looks up at me, a smile on her face. "Have you chosen a name?"
I shake my head. "I wish to wait until Edward returns," I say softly.
She opens her mouth as if to speak, but closes it, nodding her head instead. She reaches to touch the baby's tiny closed fist before settling into the chair before the hearth. "I am certain that will mean a great deal to my son."
I nod once and turn back to the window. The dark mass of soldiers approaching the outlying village has nearly doubled in size. "There are so many of them." I kiss my son's head, breathing in his sweet smell to calm myself.
"Do not forget there are many of us as well." The rustling of the queen's skirts can be heard as she rises and steps toward me. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders. "We are safe," she says softly. "Our men are prepared. Whenever Rhema makes their move, we will be ready."
"But are we truly ready?" I turn to face her. "This is not like when Galon came to Adwen. I do not think Aro wishes to broker peace. He is here to take the city, to seize the castle."
"And he will fail," she insists. "Do not doubt the men who fight for us."
I look back to the window. "I only wish I knew where Edward was," I admit, my voice low. "Why has he not returned?"
Her expression—a sad smile and tearful eyes—tell me she knows.
"What is it?" I turn to face her fully. "Please tell me," I beg, reaching for one of her hands.
"Carlisle believes the army approaching from the south was merely a distraction, a way to draw away our strongest men. He thinks Aro is not with them at all, that he is leading the charge on Masenthorne."
My eyes widen. "But Edward is—"
Sensing my sudden distress, my son begins to cry. I shift him to my shoulder and bounce him gently, whispering soothing words in an attempt to calm him.
"Do not worry, child," Esme says over the soft cries of her grandson. She holds my cheek in her hand and places her other hand on the babe's back. "We must have faith he and his men will prevail, whatever they face, and that they will soon return."
Still comforting my son, I turn back to the window, watching as the invading army forms a line around the crest of the hill. They stand still, their presence menacing, until suddenly, the riders carrying torches break off, heading toward the outlying city. One by one, their torches soar through the sky, landing on thatched roofs, which catch fire on contact. Other riders break formation and begin dismantling the homes of the villagers. Watching the timbers go up in flames, the burning ash rising into the night sky, so too does my faith that we will all survive this siege.
My son nuzzles into my neck. His tiny hands grip the fabric of my dress as he snuffles and hiccups, his crying finally coming to an end. I hold him more tightly. "I fear faith is hard to come by at the moment," I whisper.
The sun rises and sets many times, and with each setting sun, more buildings are burned. I can only watch helplessly from my window. In the days since Rhema's army has arrived, half of the outlying village has turned to a smoking pile of rubble, and the other half has been claimed as residence for their men. They seem in no rush to attack, instead choosing to taunt us with their mere presence, their wake of destruction growing closer each day. I am constantly reassured we are safe, that the Rheman soldiers cannot harm us from their position, but it does nothing to lessen my fears.
A fortnight passes before a messenger is sent from the visiting army, requesting a meeting between King Carlisle and King Aro. A meeting is granted, but on Galon's terms, and the castle is a swarm of activity as the king and his men prepare for the meeting.
Instead of watching from the safety I find inside the castle, I am asked to accompany the queen to stand beside the king, to show Rhema we will not bow to their tactics—that we are not afraid. Meanwhile, I am terrified to step foot outside the walls of the keep.
"I do not understand why my presence or the presence of my son is necessary." My eyes meet those of the queen in my looking glass as Angela braids my hair.
"The king is only as strong as the family behind him. Aro does not know there has been a son born to Edward, that our family line carries on. Having you and the child there will show Aro we are strong, our army aside. Carlisle also wishes to show Aro he is not afraid."
"But I am afraid," I whisper.
The queen grasps my hand. "We must put aside our fears and show our king our support. Now is the time to do what we must for our people."
When my circlet is placed upon my head, I am deemed ready to stand beside the king and queen. Angela follows behind us, my son cradled to her chest, and I prepare myself to meet the enemy.
We walk in a small procession up the staircase leading to the walkway over the portcullis, overlooking the half-charred city outside the castle walls. Carlisle leads us, stopping to stand in the center, and Esme, myself, and Emmett stand in a line to his right. Jasper and two more of his advisors are on his left side. I do not look behind me where Angela stands holding my child tightly in her arms, but I am sure she is wide-eyed and as nervous as I am. There is no one I trust more than my friend to do this for me, though.
The group of riders at our gates all sit atop magnificent horses, large and bred for war. They are meant to be imposing, but from our elevated position, they appear small, insignificant.
Leading the group is a white horse, its rider pale and dark; his almost sallow complexion is a stark contrast to his raven-black hair. He's dressed in flowing robes, and a baldric stitched with the Rheman crest is stretched across his chest. A crown sits upon his head, and he's flanked by six of his own men. I know without a doubt this is Aro Volturi.
I look out over the horizon, quickly counting the men I can see, and guessing at how many I cannot. Those taking shelter in the houses in the city could number in the hundreds, and adding to the men I can see, I know we may be facing nearly a thousand men.
A silent stillness falls over those assembled as the riders travel the final distance to reach the castle walls, and I take a deep breath and focus all of my attention on the enemy before us.
"King Carlisle Cullen of Galon!" Aro shouts. "It has been too long, my friend." His sneer is unmistakable.
"Not long enough," Carlisle replies. "And we are not friends. There is nothing for you in Galon, Aro. You should go back and enjoy your triumph over Adwen. You will not find such an easy victory here."
Aro laughs, and the sound causes me to wince. "Easy?" he scoffs. "I did not come all this way for easy, Carlisle. Surely you know me better than that. No, I've come all this way for blood." His head turns, appraising those of us standing alongside the king, and his eyes fall on me. "And we all know there are spoils of war when the blood has all spilled." His gaze travels past me, falling on my son. He turns back to Carlisle. "It appears there is a new member of your household. Shall I have the pleasure of being introduced?"
"My son and his bride have welcomed a son, which is more than your own blood has done, is it not? Oh, wait. Your daughter bore a bastard, did she not? She couldn't be bothered to keep herself for my son. Remember, you had your chance to join with us, but your daughter destroyed any hope of that."
"My daughter is no longer my problem. The Gods decided she was not fit to carry my family name. She is no longer of this world. And you may not have heard Marcus has just wed his own bride. The beautiful Jane Swan of Adwen. We do hope for news to come soon of an heir. But you know as well as I do these things take time. And what better gift I could give them to celebrate than their own lands? After all, someone will need to oversee Adwen when I take up residence full time in Masenthorne here in Galon."
Carlisle does not reply; he simply stares down at Aro and his men, giving away nothing.
"We have surrounded your city, Carlisle," Aro says exasperatedly. "We have burned your people's homes and locked you inside your castle. You have no choice but to either bow to my demands or fight for your very freedom."
"I've yet to hear what your demands are."
Aro's smile is evil, and even at this distance, I can see the wicked gleam in his eyes. "Why, your throne of course. I did not come all this way to fight over the fields you've abandoned, although they will serve us well if this stalemate continues for very long."
"Go home, Aro. There is nothing for you here."
"So, you refuse your surrender?"
"The Cullen family will never surrender to you or to anyone else. Go home or you will pay dearly for your misjudgment."
Aro stares up at Carlisle, the afternoon sun illuminating his pale skin. "Then we will meet on the battlefield."
Carlisle does not react, remaining still and expressionless. "Very well." He stays still, his hands clasped behind his back, and waits for a very frustrated Aro to turn and trot away from the gate, his men following behind. When they are out of sight, the king turns and walks away.
It is over before it truly begins, and I follow behind the king and queen through the passageway to the lower level of the courtyard.
"That is all? That was the meeting?" I ask her quietly as we walk side by side.
She nods. "It was."
"But ... they did not say anything of substance. I do not understand."
She grasps my hand as we step closer to the corridors leading inside. "It was a show, for both of them. Aro tried to bait the king, but Carlisle remained stoic. He did not allow Aro to rattle him. It was as much a game of wills and wit as it was a meeting to discuss terms." She turns to catch my confused eyes. "It went well, Isabella."
At the queen's invitation, the ladies of Masenthorne have taken to gathering in the women's room, our stitching clutched in our hands as the voices carry outside. Tensions are high, and I cannot concentrate on the task meant to distract me. And while the women around me all attempt to pretend everything is as it should be, I know it is not. Knowing it is not, my gifted crossbow is never far from me, hidden at the bottom of my basket beneath my son's blankets.
Galon's archers take shifts on Masenthorne's walls, and I grow more anxious as I watch Aro's men use the timbers from some of the destroyed homes to build strange looking catapults. Within a week, they rise from the ground like giants, their towering arms and pulleys strange and imposing.
"You should come away from there," the queen says softly. "It will do you no good to watch, Isabella. The sun is nearly set. And besides, if they strike, the guards will make sure we are safe."
"If they strike," I whisper, making no move to step away from the window. I am fixated on our unwelcome guests, and I cannot look away. When the sun finally slips past the horizon, darkness envelops the enemy, and I can see no more than the giant fires which have not burned out since they were set. Before I can turn away to return to my seat, movement on the far crest of the hill catches my attention.
A man carries a torch away from one of the many fires burning in the distance and toward one of the catapults. As my eyes scan the horizon, I catch sight of four other men doing the same. They each place the flaming torches to the load tied to the end of the giant slingshot. One man stands at the center and signals with his own torch, and like a perfectly choreographed dance, the long slings whip up and over the towering weapons, sending balls of fire flying through the night sky.
"Gods help us," I whisper, my hand spreading against the windowpane.
"What is—" The queen is now at my side, covering her mouth in horror.
As the first ball of fire sails over the castle walls, the order goes out for our soldiers to stand at the ready to fight. They fill the courtyard, arming themselves with their swords and shields. Some scurry around, putting out the fires now blazing on the roofs of the stable and church. Everyone is on high alert, ready to fight at a moment's notice, and I am rooted to my spot at my window, watching with fear in my heart as these men prepare to battle.
Several guards, including Jasper, enter the room at the sound of our cries.
"Where is Emmett?" Rosalie asks in a panic. "Where is my husband? I was told he was part of the king's guard. He should be here to protect his queen, his family."
Jasper steps forward, holding a hand out as if to calm Lady McCarty when her breaths become ragged. "The king has asked him to fight."
"But he—"
Chaos ensues behind me as Rosalie tries to flee the room. I stay where I am, watching Aro's soldiers advance toward the castle walls.
Galon's archers let loose their arrows, and a few of Rhema's men fall, but it is not enough. More rush toward the castle, and once they disappear from sight, I feel frustrated I can no longer see what is happening beyond the wall.
"Isabella, perhaps we should go, get to safer rooms." Angela's panicked voice reaches me, and I turn to her. Cradled in her arms is my sleeping son.
"No, our orders were to guard you," one of the guards says, replying to Angela from his place near the door. "Until we know more, it is best to remain here."
Murmurs fill the room, and unease spreads through us all. Looking back through the window, I see a chance to put to use the weapon my husband gave me. I step past Angela and crouch down to rummage through my basket, finding the bow at the bottom.
I stand and turn to her. "I can offer help from here."
"Isabella," Esme says from just behind my friend, "There is no need to put yourself in danger by hanging out of a window. The men out there have trained for this. They do not need you to defend us."
I shake my head. "No, they do not need me, but from this vantage, I may be able to see a danger before it has the opportunity to harm us. I must try."
"I still do not think it is a good idea," the queen says, the guards urging her to come away from the window. She turns to argue with them, reminding them to whom they are speaking.
As more confusion sets in, the women are distracted, arguing over the best course of action, whether they should remain or seek shelter elsewhere. I turn back to the window to watch as Rhema's men begin to make their way over the outer walls.
Standing inside the doorway is my husband's cousin and his wife. With their heads tilted together and their young son held between them, they share an all too brief moment. It appears so private, so intimate, I feel the need to look away. As touching as the scene is, it reminds me my husband is still out there, lost to me once again.
I inhale a deep breath and turn back to the window, peering outside. I push it open to see more clearly and to ready my own weapon. In the moments I was turned away, the opposing army has wheeled a battering ram toward Masenthorne. With a loud roar, the order is given, and Aro's men move as one, ramming into the outer gate, over and over.
"They are trying to force their way through."
Jasper steps to my side and peers over my shoulder. "The gate will hold, but I do not know for how long."
The scene below is overwhelming; small fires burn in various places in the outer courtyard, but none so far have actually reached the castle. The archers move faster than my eyes can keep up, as arrow after arrow is fired toward the men attempting to scale the outer wall. The armed soldiers in the outer courtyard are a vibrating mass of bodies, readying themselves for the fight. Even as far away as I am, I can feel their energy. I close my eyes and say a brief prayer that those who protect us will be protected. When I open my eyes and see the opposing army on the other side of the wall, I fear many of our men will fall, regardless of my petition to the Gods.
A break in the line of archers forms in the northern wall, and many of Rhema's men breach it, spilling over the top. With shaking hands, I load a bolt into my bow, and raise it. I close my eyes to try and quell some of my nervousness, and I remind myself that I have been told many times over how true my aim is.
I open my eyes and steady myself at the window, aim, and fire.
With a swiftness I did not expect, the man I set my sights on falls from the wall, the bolt having found purchase in his neck.
With a renewed confidence and Jasper's quiet encouragement, I reload and find another target. Man after man falls by my hand, and I feel a swell of pride in my ability to defend my home, to protect my protectors. As I ready my bow to take aim once more, a crashing, splintering sound like I have never heard comes from near the wall.
We watch in horror as Rhema's men begin to rush through the broken pieces of the outer gate. Met with Galon's armed soldiers and facing half of the archers who have turned their attention to the courtyard, Rhema's men fall almost as quickly as they charge through the breach. But it does not take long for the crack to widen and more and more of Aro's men to push their way through. I do what I can, aiming and firing my crossbow as swiftly as I can, but my supply of bolts begins to run low, and I know I need to be more selective in my targets.
I am rooted in my spot, watching as the men fight, their swords clanging and their arrows flying. The once green courtyard is now stained with the blood of our enemies ... and of our own countrymen. It is hard to see from where I stand who has the advantage, but I know the carnage is great.
A fresh wave of men rushes the walls, and Galon's soldiers are quickly overpowered, the vast numbers of sudden opponents too great.
"No," I whisper as I watch more and more of our men fall. "No, no, no." My free hand grips the ledge of the window as I lean out, tears now running down my cheeks. "It is not possible."
Needing to know how much more is to come for us, I look up, past the castle walls and into the darkness of the night. My heart sinks as I catch sight of yet another line of soldiers. The dark shadows on the hill tell me there is another wave of men ready to attack. My bow slips from my hand, and I fall to my knees, turning to rest my back against the cool stone wall. Knowing we are sorely outnumbered, I bury my face in my hands and cry.
Our fate is all but sealed.
Jasper crouches before me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It is all right, Isabella. You've done all you can."
I shake my head and raise it, my tearful eyes meeting his. I look around the room and am met with the concerned gazes of my family. I know that if this is to end badly, we will all suffer an unimaginable fate. And when my eyes fall on my son, a fresh wave of determination washes over me.
Our men fight for their lives, and for ours, but with the next wave of Aro's men nearing, it is only a matter of time before they are overcome. And when they are, the once serene halls of Masenthorne will fill with Rheman soldiers looking to take for themselves the spoils, and I cannot allow that to happen. At this moment, I decide if I am to perish this night, I would rather die fighting than die hiding. I do not wish to give up, to cower as I wait for our enemy to find us.
I push Jasper's hands aside and rise to my feet, wiping my eyes. With my bow in hand, I peer out the window. "I have not done all I can." I look over my shoulder at Jasper. "I still have a few more bolts to fire."
I watch as the same white stallion which approached our walls just weeks ago crosses through the now-widened hole in the outer gate. Saddled atop him is the pale rider who leads the destruction, his skin glowing white in the fires burning throughout the courtyard. Aro's appearance brings to mind the teachings from my homeland; stories of the four horsemen of the end of days, and the pale rider being death. This man, too, seems to be bringing death with him. He wields his broadsword, cutting down all who cross his path. He is here to destroy Galon and all who call Masenthorne home.
A loud commotion beyond the door gains the guards' attention. "Stay here," one of them orders.
With a shaking hand, I turn my attention back to my weapon and load one of my remaining bolts into the crossbow, placing the end at the floor to pull the mechanism back. Then I seek out my target. Still seated in his saddle, Aro is making his way through the line of Galon's soldiers and closer to the second gate. His men seem to have pushed their ram forward, and with little resistance, they are making quick work of the obstacle.
With no clear shot, I wait.
More and more of Rhema's men make it over the inner wall, and as the second wave of men riding from the hill closes in, my heart sinks. But as the battle cries coming from Aro's men grow louder with the dark mass of bodies approaching, they turn their attention to those now coming through the gate, and I realize two things at once.
Our men, the men who left here well over a month ago, have returned, and seated upon his own stallion, leading the charge, is my husband.
"Edward!" His name escapes me in a joyous cry as tears of relief fill my eyes.
A/N: Tuesday isn't all that far away ... right? We're rapidly nearing the end, so hang on tight as we get there. It's gonna be a bumpy ride. Only two more to go before the epilogue, and they're action-packed.
Recs this week ...
I'm re-reading The Cannabean Betrothal by ItzMegan73 right now, and it's one of my favorites. Summary: Edward has immersed himself in the Cannabean way to ward off the hurt of a life-changing experience; but an unexpected betrothal teaches him how little he knows about life.
A WIP I need to get back to is My Stubborn Mate by krida86. Summary: Wolf-Shifter and Earth Witch, Bella Swan, moves with her father to Forks, Washington to join the "Midnight Sun" Wolf Pack. After almost 21 years of living in hiding in the human world, Bella struggles to find her place amongst the Pack. Will she ever find her place when so many are against her? And what will the strong connection she feels to the pack's Beta, Edward, evolve into?
There are a couple of contests going on right now. A Winterward Card Contest 2019 is happening exclusively on Facebook through 12/20, so go check out the group if you're interested. And TwiFandomNews is hosting a 911/First Responders Contest. There aren't any entries right now, but I'm hopeful some will post before it closes on 12/23.
And remember, for exclusive weekly teasers and pics, be sure to check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics! You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. 'See' you all soon!
Lots of love
~Sunshine