Thank you Fyrebyrd, 2brown-eyes, Gabby1017, and Ceceprincess1217 for prereading, and to jayhawkbb for editing. Please remember, I like to fiddle, so all mistakes are mine.

I posted a link in my Facebook group to a video on YouTube that features the catapults—or trebuchets—mentioned in last week's chapter. If you have the time, google "trebuchets in action" for a peek at what some of those giant contraptions were capable of. Seeing those launch fire in my direction would be kind of terrifying, I would think.

This is a rough chapter from start to finish, so buckle in.

Chapter 28

The roar of the men as they pour through the gate is deafening. Their voices echo off the stone walls, and the clash of their swords when they strike the Rheman soldiers makes me shrink back from the open window. What looks like a hundred or more men fill the courtyard, some of them wielding sword and shield and others brandishing maces. There is no negotiation, no preamble to the attack, only unbridled violence against our enemy ... and I could not welcome it more. Swords and maces alike swing through the air, and one by one, our enemy begins to fall.

As Edward and his men advance, I lean farther out the window to get a better look. My eyes widen at the sight. If there ever was a time I thought the warriors from Galon to look like savages, it is nothing compared to how the returning men now look. Dirty and vicious, their eyes focused and filled with hatred, the men look as though they could defeat a bear with their bare hands.

They are here not to defeat, but to destroy.

Along with the sound of clashing metal, the cries and grunts of men fill the night air. My eyes move rapidly, taking everything in. In a fight for their lives, Galon's soldiers are merciless. The line of men near the innermost wall, led valiantly by Emmett, sees their fellow countrymen, and with a strength they've not yet shown, they press forward, fighting with a renewed vigor.

My husband's cousin swings his sword, slicing a path through the wall of Rheman soldiers as if they are mere weeds to be cut down. Edward's return seems to have given him a fresh determination.

As Galon's soldiers press forward, Aro's men reek of desperation before digging in and fighting with a renewed vigor of their own. But at Emmett's order, they are held back, the inner walls of Masenthorne yet to be breached.

"Our men are holding them back." Rosalie's hopeful voice comes from over my shoulder.

I reach back to take her hand. "They are."

Searching the crowd, I find my husband. Using his legs, Edward commands the beast beneath him, and he moves deftly through the melee, swinging his broadsword at any who dare challenge him. With the determination of ten men, Edward sometimes takes on two men at a time, one with his sword and the other with his shield, bashing their skulls and moving forward.

Everywhere I look, men fight to protect this land, and some fall doing it. The arc of soldiers widens as more of Galon's men battle against their foe, and as more men fall, the gained ground behind them grows red with blood.

When I bring my attention back to the battle raging below, the victory which seemed hopeless only moments before Edward appeared is now within Galon's grasp. With our line of soldiers still fighting from their position at the inner wall and our returning men fighting from the outer wall, Rhema's soldiers are caught in the middle, helpless against those who fight to defend their home.

In the center of the chaos, Aro is still atop his white horse. His head whips from side to side, only now appearing to realize that he is losing ground, that his men are being slaughtered. I see the moment his eyes fall on Edward, for he kicks away the man he's just run through with his sword and changes direction, moving straight toward my husband.

Gasps fill the room behind me, but I do not lose focus. With my eyes flashing between the two men, I keep my bow at the ready. And when Aro charges him at a full gallop, cutting down any in his path, I raise my weapon. Edward is quick to react, too, raising his own broadsword. When their steel clashes, I cannot tear my eyes away from them. The strike is so powerful, they are both knocked from their saddles. They push off the ground, returning to their fight. They move so swiftly it is difficult to see where one of them begins and the other ends. With my blood rushing in my ears, I wait with my bow raised but not aimed. It is a battle of wills, both of them struggling to overpower the other.

What I do not expect is for another Rheman soldier to attack from Edward's back. He swings his sword, but misses, gaining Edward's attention and distracting him from Aro's attack. Edward turns away for only a moment, slicing through his attacker's belly, bringing him to his knees, but his distraction is all Aro needs. He lifts his sword over his head to bring it down on my husband.

The queen and Alice cry out, both of them presumably watching from another window when I seize my opportunity. In the blink of an eye, I lift my bow, aim and fire, sending the bolt whistling through the night sky.

My aim is true, and my bolt finds its way through his chainmail and into his chest, Aro loses the grip on his sword, and his blade tumbles to the ground behind him. He drops to his knees and falls onto his back, lying in the bloodied mud and staring blankly into the sky. With men falling to the right and left of him, he is still. Searching for his savior, Edward's head whips around, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet.

But with the battle still raging, he returns to the fight, his sword cutting through all who dare to challenge him. Knowing he is here, he is alive, and our salvation is near, I feel I can finally breathe.

The chamber door bangs open, and a group of guards marches through. It takes only a moment to realize these are not the guards who were stationed outside. No, these are Rheman soldiers, and all of them enter the room with their swords drawn. The other women scream, scrambling away from them and huddling together in the corner, Jasper doing his best to hover over them protectively. Poor Emily hides behind her mother's skirts, and my heart breaks that she is subjected to this.

Frightened to the point of being unable to move, I stay rooted in my spot near the window. I also realize quickly that any attempt to fire my crossbow at them would be in vain. Even if I were to bring down one of them, any of the others would kill me before I lowered my weapon. But I quickly shove the bolt held tightly in my hand into a pocket in my dress. If nothing else, it is sharp and easy to conceal.

One of the men looks over the room, and his eyes light up when they fall on the queen. While most of us are in modest dresses, looking much like the peasants wandering the lower halls of Masenthorne, Esme wears her crown. "It would appear that we've found the castle's hidden treasures," he says as he walks toward Esme. He uses the tip of his sword to lift the edge of her skirts, taunting her.

One of the others speaks up from the doorway. "Let's get on with it. You know our orders were to bring anyone we found to the throne room."

He huffs a breath. "I only wanted to have a bit of fun," he mumbles petulantly.

The men stalk forward, deciding where to begin when, as if on instinct, Jasper stands and grabs for his own weapon. He raises it, but his sword arm is still so very weak, the tremor in his arm as he tries to hold his sword evident. "I suggest you leave the women alone."

"Oh!" One of the men chuckles as he practically skips toward Jasper. "We may have a fight on our hands, lads."

With all the strength he can muster, Jasper swings his blade with a grunt, but it falls short of its target, the momentum bringing his arm down heavily and his sword falling to the ground.

With no warning, the Rheman soldier smashes the hilt of his sword against Jasper's head, sending him tumbling back, falling back into his chair.

Alice screams, rising from her spot near the corner, but she is snatched up by one of the other men. She fights against his hold, flailing in his arms to get to her husband. The one who injured Jasper pulls a dagger from his boot and moves to hold it to Jasper's neck.

"I wouldn't do that," one of them warns.

"And why not?"

"He looks an awful lot like the one who helped Cullen escape. I'd recognize that light hair anywhere. The Commander is going to want to deal with that one himself."

The man holding the dagger considers it for a moment before sliding it back into his boot. "Fine, but he comes with us. They'll want to question him"—he makes eye contact with Alice, grinning—"or cut off his head." Alice shrieks, but he continues. "Either way, we can't leave him here." He looks at the rest of us and back to the other men. "Tie their hands if you have to, but we need to move them all. It won't be long before they realize we're here."

My eyes flash to Angela's, and I know her wide-eyed, tearful expression must match mine. But there is also a question in her gaze, and I know she is asking about my son held in her arms. I discreetly shake my head. There is no reason to alert these men to who he is, how important he is, not only to me but also to the land of Galon.

Esme stands and inhales deeply, looking into the eyes of the man who seems to be in charge. "Take me." The waver in her voice belies the confidence of her stance. "No one else in this room is of any importance. They are merely my ladies in waiting. They will earn you no commendation from your commander. Leave them here."

My heart begins to beat furiously as the man looks each of us over, scrutinizing us. His eyes land on my hand, and they seem to twinkle with glee when they spot my ring. He turns to the queen. "Ladies in waiting, huh? We'll just see about that." He stalks toward me and grabs my arm, my bow falling from my hands and clattering to the floor. "They all go," he shouts as he drags me from the room.

The walk to the throne room is long and winding, all of us clinging to one another as we're prodded along by the men. When we finally reach the door leading to the throne room, voices carry out into the corridor. As we step inside, all my breath leaves me in a whoosh.

Seated on the throne is a man I never dreamed I would see again.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Jacob Black rises from the throne and stalks toward us, his appraising eye taking in the lot of us. "A queen," he says, looking at Esme, "a few ladies," he says, looking at Alice, Rosalie, and Angela, "and a princess," he says as his eyes fall on me. He looks over my shoulder. "And who is that?" he asks, pointing at Jasper, who happens to be thrown over the shoulder of one of the men.

"He was with them, My Lord. Thought he might be important. Looks a bit like the one who helped Cullen escape, too."

"Just toss him in the corner," Jacob says with a dismissive hand as his gaze falls back to me. "I am much more interested in our other guests." Even as he speaks, he does not turn away from me, and a sick feeling begins to gnaw at my insides.

"What do you want us to do with them?" one of the men asks.

"Take the queen to the cells below the castle." He turns to the soldier. "Wouldn't want her to get away before Aro has a chance to see what I've found for him."

"Aro is dead!" I shout defiantly. All the rage and anger I have for this man boils inside me, and I lunge toward Jacob. At my outburst, one of the men steps forward and restrains me, holding my arms behind my back.

All the men's heads snap to look at me. "Aro is not dead!" one of them shouts.

"He is," I insist. "I watched from my window as he fell."

"And you expect me to take your word for it?" Jacob scoffs, turning to the soldier. "Take the queen to a cell but leave the others."

Emily, who has stayed hidden in her mother's skirts, begins to cry in earnest, which upsets Jameson, and in turn, my son. In no time at all, the three of them are wailing. Angela does her best to soothe him, but it is of no use.

As my son's cries grow louder, Jacob turns. His eyes widen as they fall on Angela, and I see on his face the moment realization dawns on him. "You!" he bellows, pointing at my friend. "You were her handmaiden in Adwen."

Angela's own eyes are wide and terrified, but she remains silent.

When Jacob's sharp gaze turns to my son, fear for what he may do fills my very bones.

"Then this must be your son," Jacob says, turning back to me. "An heir to Galon's throne." His voice is low, threatening.

"Please, I beg of you. Do not hurt him."

"That is for Aro to decide." He turns to his men. "Take the brats with the queen as well. I cannot hear myself think with all that noise," Jacob says before the man can walk away with Esme.

"No! Take me, please! He needs his mother!" I fight against the hands holding me, only to be held tighter.

Jacob turns back to me, an evil grin on his face. "Aro will be happy to have not only the queen, but the next heir to Galon's throne as well. Perhaps he will wish to have a public execution," he taunts.

"No!" I scream. As my child's cries grow louder, I close my eyes. Tears stream down my cheeks at my inability to go to him, to comfort him.

"Silence them or I will do it for you," Jacob roars.

My eyes fly open, and I watch in horror as one of the men rips Jameson from Alice's arms. My sister tries to keep hold of him, but the guard is too strong.

"Give him to me!" Esme demands. "Both of them if you insist on taking them from their mothers."

Jacob waves another hand, growing irritated with the exchange. "I do not care. Take them all. Just get them out of my sight."

As the queen is dragged from the room with Jameson in her arms, one of the men snatches Angela by the arm and pulls her along with them, grabbing Emily as he passes her.

Their screams and cries fade as they get farther from the room. I say a silent prayer that my son is safe with his grandmother and my friend.

"Does hearing your son's cries for you hurt, My Lady?" Jacob comes closer, a predatory gleam in his eye. As he nears, his gaze travels over my body. "Maybe Aro will grant me a reward—you for the screaming runt." His eyes meet mine. "Seems a fair trade."

I struggle to get away from the man holding me, but it is useless. He places a meaty hand on my forehead, forcing my head back against his chest. As I look up into the eyes of the man who has stolen so much from me, I have only one wish: To see his blood spilled.

"What do you want us to do with the women?" the man holding me asks.

Before Jacob can reply, another of the men shouts, "Shouldn't we be searching for the king, and not wasting our time on the queen and some useless cunts?"

"Have you any idea who she is?" Jacob turns and asks.

"We thought she might be important, what with that bauble on her finger and being with the queen and all," he says proudly.

The man who had a hand in Aro's victory over Adwen, the man who is in part responsible for my father's death, is now so close I can smell him. I vibrate with rage. It is his fault this battle was brought to our lands. It is his fault so many of our men lie bleeding and dying in the mud.

"This is the little wench who got away," Jacob continues, oblivious to my thoughts. "This is the woman who was sold off to Galon for a port and some grain. This, my friends, is Princess Isabella, the wife of the very man whom I've made sure will not be returning home." He leans close, his nose trailing up the column of my neck as he inhales. "How does it feel to be a widow?" he whispers into my ear.

"He is not dead," I say through gritted teeth. I struggle, but it is to no avail; the man holding me is far too strong.

Jacob's dark chuckle turns the blood in my veins to ice. "I saw to it myself," he taunts. "I have a secret to tell you." He leans closer, his lips a mere breath away from my ear. "I came up with the perfect plan. And Aro drank it from the palm of my hand like the sweetest wine. I sent a few hundred of Aro's best soldiers, led by his son, Marcus. He was to come from the south, allow his men to be seen, and send Galon's best chasing after them. And I knew they would. They were going to lead Galon's men down into a ravine, and when they were all lined up like pigs in a pen, Marcus would attack. It was like handing a victory to the Rheman prince on a silver platter." His evil eyes once again meet mine. "And now I will claim one of my many rewards. The lands in Adwen I've been given will be that much sweeter when I have you with me to warm my bed."

"I would rather die," I growl indignantly, continuing to fight against my captor.

"Do you really think you have any other choice?"

"I refuse to surrender! You will not win. Our men will find you, Jacob, and when they do, they will kill you. You are a traitor. My father is dead because of you!"

"Your father is dead because he was a terrible king! He nearly killed his people in his greed and ignorance. The world is better for him not being in it."

I tilt my head back against the man holding me and jerk it forward, spitting straight into Jacob's eye. "My husband is not dead, and he will kill you when he finds you."

He slowly wipes my spittle from his face before lashing out. The sting burns through my flesh when he strikes me, and as I drag my tongue across my lip, I taste the sharp tang of blood.

"If he is, then let him try."

No sooner than the words leave Jacob's lips, a shout can be heard coming from the corridor outside the throne room. Every Rheman soldier in the room readies their sword, save the one holding me.

It all happens so quickly.

Emmett rounds the corner, his sword in hand and ready to strike, but with a single blade to his gut he is run through by the coward lying in wait at the door, the same man who held a dagger over Jasper.

All my breath leaves my body, and his name escapes Rosalie in a strangled scream. "Emmett!" Her wail of despair echoes off the walls, Alice's cry nearly as loud for her cousin.

As Emmett falls to his knees, Jacob—with hatred in his dark eyes—steps behind him, grasping him by a tuft of hair at the crown of his head. His blade is quick but sure, making a single pass across Emmett's throat.

The cry that escapes Rosalie as she struggles against her captors, desperate to reach her husband, is the sound of a heart breaking. Her anguish is so sorrowful, so painful, it cuts through me like a shard of ice through my gut. My heart thrashes in my chest, and my mouth goes dry, blood rushing in my ears as I watch my friend, my protector, fall to the floor. As he does, Rosalie gives up her fight, finally collapsing in a sobbing heap at the soldier's feet.

Jacob's black eyes, much like his soul must be, bore into mine as he sheaths his sword and steps over Emmett's still form. "Now, tell me again how it is your husband plans to kill me," he asks me over my sobs. "If I remember correctly, he said something similar when I had him strapped to a rack in the bowels of Broadcove. If he is alive as you say he is, I will quite enjoy doing what I'd planned to do before he escaped—killing him myself."

With every bit of courage I possess, I stare into the eyes of this monster and speak through gritted teeth. "He will kill you, and if he fails, I will kill you myself."

With both hands, he pulls me away from the man holding me. He lifts me up off the floor, my feet dangling, and he is so close his nose nearly brushes mine. His breath is foul, and my stomach turns. "Not if I end you first, Princess."

Suddenly, he releases me, and I fall to my knees, my hands coming to rest in the dark red puddle surrounding Emmett. Unable to look at my friend, my kin, I turn away, my sobs growing louder.

"Stop your sniveling. Who was he, your personal guard?" he asks mockingly. "Did he take care of you all the months your husband was away? Did he bed you? Is that why—"

I rise up on my knees and straighten my back. "No, you monster!" I yell. "He was my friend, my family! He was a good man."

"There are no good men, Isabella. Do not delude yourself. Men only do what is best for themselves, to further their own interests. To say otherwise is foolish."

"You're wrong," I say with a hiccuping sob as I wipe the tears and snot from my face with the back of my hand. "There are good men in this world." I look over to Emmett's still form. "Men who would die protecting those they love." I return my narrowed eyes to Jacob. "Men with honor. Something which you would not recognize if it were to slap you across the face."

He steps closer, and I shrink back. Jacob bends at the waist and narrows his own eyes. "Honorable men rarely gain riches and lands, Isabella. Honorable men rarely attain beautiful women and titles. Those things are only for men strong enough to take them, strong enough to make those things happen. And I have grown tired of doing the right thing, the honorable thing. No, it is time for me to take what I want."

With a swiftness I am not expecting, he grabs me by my arms and crashes his mouth to mine. His grip on me is unyielding, and I am frozen in shock. When I return to my senses, I struggle against his hold, opening my mouth to scream, still trying to pull away, but he forces his tongue inside. Reflexively, I bite down.

I'm thrown to the ground as he covers his now-bleeding mouth with both hands. "You whore!" His words are muffled, but his meaning is clear. Dropping his hands, he advances toward me. "You will pay for that!"

I try to scurry away on my hands and knees, but he reaches for me, grabbing me by the hair. He yanks my head back and speaks lowly into my ear. "I am going to enjoy hearing you scream."

He releases me and pushes me away, my face nearly slamming into the stone floor. I push back and rise onto my hands and knees, finding myself once again in the pool of Emmett's blood. I try to crawl away, but the unmistakable sound of his sword being drawn causes my already pounding heart to nearly stop altogether, and I freeze.

As more voices and the familiar sounds of clashing steel can be heard coming from outside the room, I crawl toward them, praying it is more of Galon's soldiers. And as quickly as the group of soldiers turns the corner, I am wrenched from the floor and held to Jacob Black's chest, his blade now poised at my throat.

A/N: *peeks over screen* Is it safe to come out? Yeah, that was rough. I'm hoping Isabella's shot at Aro softened the heartache in this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. Only one more to go before the epilogue.

Recs this week ...

I'm hoping to get caught up on MeteorOnAMoonlessNight's Ember Sword this week. It's a badass Bella of olde, and if you're enjoying DoMH, it should be right up your alley. ;) Summary: The Prophecy of The First Blood declares the Ember Sword shall be in the care of The True-Sworn for eternity—which is how long the clan will live if they can keep the enchanted sword out of the hands of The Forsaken. With the enemy bearing down on them, the chieftess and her daughters must prepare for the coming battle.

And an oldie but a goodie is A Hope Renewed by Hopesparkles. Summary: A misunderstanding leads to a forced marriage between Bella who is caring for her ailing father after losing their home, and Edward who has recently inherited his uncle's estate and has no intention of taking a wife.

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