Xavier pulled out his pistol and shot the guard standing by the lever for the gates so that he could not shut them. At least four guards rushed toward the lever, and Matteo ran up the stairs to stop them. Pulling out his sword, he parried a blow toward his head. He felt Xavier right behind him. They fought back-to-back, guarding each other’s weakest side. Matteo lunged and his sword slid through the man’s stomach. He pulled the bloody blade out in time to parry another blow. Another guard ran toward the lever. On instinct, Matteo used his left hand to pull out his knife and throw it at the man. The strike was a little too high and only sliced the top of the guard’s arm; it didn’t immobilize him. The man’s hand was on the lever, but before he could pull it, Xavier’s sword struck through his back.
“Attack! We’re under attack!” a guard called.
Matteo saw more lights go on in the dark windows of the castle. Soldiers were rushing across the courtyard toward them. He and Xavier could barely hold the three men that they were fighting.
Then he heard a trumpet. The first line of his cavalry charged into the courtyard. From the superior height of their mounts, they cut down everyone who came in their way. Matteo used this surprise to stab one of his opponents. Xavier brought down his man and together they fought the last soldier until Matteo dragged his sword across the man’s abdomen.
General de Flores rode into the courtyard. “Secure the armory! Don’t let them get any more weapons.”
The Sanian cavalry continued to flood through the gates into the courtyard. More Kaulish soldiers ran out of the barracks. It was a slaughter. Matteo and Xavier tore off their enemy coats and stole across the battlements and into the heart of the castle. Swords raised, they quietly stole through the halls. When Matteo heard a voice, he held up his hand for Xavier to stop.
“Should we surrender,mongénéral?”
“Never! Our king would have our heads. I’d rather lose my life to the Sanians than hang as a traitor.”
Leaning forward, around the corner Matteo saw a large man wearing a rumpled uniform, as if it had been hurriedly put on. The uniform was black but had a large red sash that was covered in medals. He sheathed his sword and pulled out his pistol. It only had one shot and he had to make it count. Pulling back the hammer, he jumped out into the room, took quick aim, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the general in the heart and he gasped as he fell to the floor.
Xavier leaped out beside him with his sword, ready to lunge. “Your general wants you to surrender.”
The Kaulish captain dropped his weapon and repeated the word. “Surrender.”
Matteo stepped closer to the man. “Tell your men to surrender. There need be no more death tonight.”
The Kaulish captain pulled the white tablecloth off the table and held it above his head. “We surrender.”
Xavier poked his sword into the man’s back but with not enough force to draw blood. “Lead the way.”
Matteo and Xavier followed the Kaulish captain out of the castle and into the courtyard. It smelled of blood and horses. He waved the white tablecloth back and forth and yelled for his soldiers to lay down their weapons. One by one, they dropped their weapons to the ground and held up their hands.
18
GERARD
The road to Argylly Castle was lined with heads on pikes. Men. Women. The young. He longed to close his eyes from the horror of it, but he could not.
He felt sick.
Then he was in the courtyard of the castle. Soldiers were carrying armfuls of firewood and pieces of wooden furniture and tossing it on a great pile.
“Higher,” a soldier yelled. “We want everyone to know we’ve burned the purple-haired witch.”
Elea.
He closed his eyes and he was back in the place with the three large mounds of stone. The three doors. On each door was carved a Holy Trigon. Like the one on his necklace.
He looked down to see it, but it was gone. He’d sold it for the small boat.
His hand was on the doorknob of the closest stone mound and it was turning. The door opened . . . and he saw his birth mother. She looked at him in horror. There was a sword sticking out of her chest.
His sword.
* * *
Gerard awokefrom this dream panting and coated in sweat. He covered his mouth with his hands. His stomach churned from the gruesome vision. It had to be a dream. Throwing off the blanket, he walked barefoot to the door that led to the balcony. He stepped outside into the bright morning sunshine, eager to shed the darkness of the night.
He closed his eyes, sunbathed his face, and his breathing slowed to a normal speed. He was fine. Elea was fine. It had just been a dream. Exhaling, he opened his eyes and saw a sea of white sails. There had to be over one hundred ships. Every ship in Kaul’s armada. And it was sailing into the black mist of the Dark Channel. They were heading toward Urka.
Curse his father.