AN ~ As promised, more chapters! Special thanks to Purradox who has been a super loyal reader and continues to review I appreciate it very much. As for everyone else, I certainly hope you are enjoying it. Anyway, let's be on with it, for the day of reckoning has arrived!

Chapter Seventy Eight: Fair Words

Esme:

The anxiety was torture, but it did not last long: organised, cloaked figures drifted towards us, grey or black cowls hiding the faces of the wearers. The lighter cloaks headed towards the outside while the dark ones progressed steadily forward, as languid yet as demanding in presence as a glacier; clearly they had nothing against dragging out our torture. I couldn't help wondering if this waiting was part of the punishment.

What we could see of their faces gave away nothing; not even surprise or disgust at the giant wolf that stood beside Bella. Thirty-two perfectly expressionless faces - and, according to Garrett, there were more to come: the red-coats. I didn't know what that meant, but I knew the scales were already dangerously tipped against us. Even with the wolves we were heavily outnumbered already; any more enemies and we wouldn't have a chance. But came they did, joining the seemingly endless flow of opposition. I hoped I did not look as stunned as I felt.

At least these cloaks bore emotive faces, rather than disciplined assassins. At first they were shocked - probably at the unexpected force we had brought out to meet them - but then they found security in their numbers and the concern disappeared, replaced by whatever emotion they had been wearing before the moment of shock. Mostly, this was anger or disgust; after all, we had supposedly committed the most heinous crime in all of vampire history - which was long and recorded in great detail. I tried to find comfort in the fact that these ones, being less disciplined than the black cloaks, would probably not be fighting us, and if they were they wouldn't be too good. Considering each of them probably knew twice as much about battle strategies than any of us, this was a difficult feat.

When the flow of red cloaks finally ended, my eyes locked onto the most familiar face: Irina stood uncertainly between the black cloaks and the reds, her terrified eyes on Tanya's face. Edward hissed.

"Alistair was right," he muttered. Carlisle and Tanya turned to him, surprised.

"Alistair was right?" Tanya repeated, horrified.

"They - Caius and Aro - come to destroy and aquire," Edward explained. His voice was so low even I could scarcely hear it. I wasn't sure I wanted to. "They have many layers of strategy in place. If Irina's accusation had somehow proven to be false, they were committed to find another reason to take offense. But they can see Renesmee now, so they are perfectly sanguine about their course. We could still attempt to defend against their other contrived charges, but first they have to stop, to hear the truth about Renesmee...which they have no intention of doing."

I swallowed hard; my mouth was so dry it hurt. My mind had already categorized our entire battalion: certainly the Romanians, the nomads, Tanya, Rose, Emmett, Carlisle and I would be destroyed. Kate would likely be kept, as well as Ben and the Amazonians. Bella and Edward were certainly valuable commodities, and Aro would probably be curious enough to keep Renesmee alive - I hoped.

I braced myself for battle as the Volturi continued to flow forward. Suddenly, they halted. I stiffened, and risked a glance left and right out of the corners of my eyes: the wolves had joined us.

There were many more wolves around us now than I had ever seen, even at the fight against Victoria and her newborns. The strangers looked young; big eyes, ears and paws that they hadn't grow into yet. I wondered just how young they were, and how Sam - the seemingly responsible leader - had allowed this to happen...but then it dawned on me: they were triggered to change based on the threat they faced. One family of vampires requires only a handful of wolves: a horde like this one, whatever they could throw at it. All those who had the gene had been forced to change for the sole purpose of fighting this battle; of winning. But we were going to lose, and the wolf gene would quite possibly be wiped out. More innocents killed over a misunderstanding.

I glared at the three Volturi leaders. Marcus' expression was nearly as blank as his subjects', but Aro and Caius appeared to be having a serious discussion. Aro's eyes scanned our ranks, searching for something...searching for Alice. I couldn't help the enormous wave of pride and joy that filled me at the knowledge that she had escaped the ancient's clutches - but then came a pang of sadness, remembering that I never got to say goodbye.

"Should I speak?" Carlisle asked, pulling me back to the present immediately.

"This is the only chance you'll get," Edward replied with a nod. I took a deep breath as Carlisle pulled himself up and stepped out of our line. In that instant, he drew the first target on himself. I bit my lip and reminded myself this was for the best.

"Aro, my old friend," he called, spreading his arms wide as though in greeting. "It's been centuries."

He waited.

I waited.

Then Aro drifted out of the centre of the guard, his milky eyes curious. Some of the guard lowered themselves into crouches, but Aro dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He stopped a few steps ahead of his line and cocked his head to one side, eyes locked on Carlisle.

"Fair words, Carlisle," he remarked in a whispery voice; it was somehow reminiscent of the Romanian's thin, wispy tones. "They seem out of place, considering the army you've assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones."

With quite some effort, I forced myself to swallow my snarl as Carlisle extended his right hand. There was still quite a distance between them - almost a hundred yards - but I felt no more secure for it.

"You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent," Carlisle offered, safe in the knowledge that it was unlikely Aro would kill him now without at least looking at the evidence. Aro narrowed his eyes and, in an offended tone, retorted:

"But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?"

"I have not committed the crime you are hear to punish me for," Carlisle clarified. I don't think any of us missed the repetition of singular pronouns as Carlisle tried to encourage the idea that the rest of us had nothing to do with the crime – just in case. I glanced sideways at Bella, who was clinging tightly to her daughter and watching Aro intently, mortified.

"Then step aside and let us punish those responsible," Aro replied, seeing Carlisle's efforts for what they were and turning them on their head. "Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today."

"No one has broken the law, Aro. Let me explain." Carlisle offered his hand again, but before Aro could respond, Caius too emerged from the battle lines.

"So many pointless rules, so many unnecessary laws you create for yourself, Carlisle," he hissed. "How is it possible that you defend the breaking of one that truly matters?"

"The law is not broken. If you would just listen-"

"We see the child, Carlisle," Caius snarled. "Do not treat us as fools."

"She is not an immortal," Carlisle insisted. "She is not a vampire. I can prove this with just a few moments-" Again, he was cut off by Caius.

"If she is not one of the forbidden, then why have you massed a battalion to protect her?" the ancient demanded.

"Witnesses, Caius, just as you have brought." Carlisle gestured to the red-cloaks - many of whom snarled and growled in response. "Any one of these friends can tell you the truth about the child. Or you could just look at her, Caius. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks."

"Artiface!" Caius barked. "Where is the informer? Let her come forward!" He craned his neck around until he spotted the petrified Irina. "You! Come!"