He released the stone and bowed once more to the admiral before climbing back down the rope ladder to the Urkan vessel. Saluting one last time, Gerard jumped back onto the lower boat. He didn’t need fear or respect. He had love, which was much greater than either emotion.
“Are they leaving?” Captain Moulton asked.
“Aye.”
A large smile broke through the captain’s blond-and-gray-beard. “It’s done, then. Shall I take you back to Donnelly Castle?”
Gerard shook his head. “No, we need to gather as many Urkan ships as possible and sail up the river.”
“For what?”
“To fight Laird Lochdon’s army. Your queen needs us.”
43
ELEA
From the highest tower, Elea watched the Urkan soldiers break through the gate and begin to swarm the city. Laird Lochdon’s soldiers were winning. The farmers were no match for their armor and experience. Nora and Matteo were surrounded in a sea of green. There was no one to help them. And even though they wielded their swords swiftly and killed one person after another, the circle around them was pressing closer as they slowly retreated farther into the city.
She watched as the number of her defenders dwindled. Thousands became hundreds. Hundreds became only a handful. Elea could see Nora’s golden armor and Matteo. Their feet were wet. They had been driven into the water of the moat. They would not be able to last much longer.
Elea couldn’t allow her cousin to die for her a second time. She pulled the dagger from her waist and went to the door of the room. She was about to descend the stairs when she remembered Gerard’s vision. Taking two stairs at a time, she climbed to the top of the tower. The wind pulled at her short hair and her clothes.
She heard her cousin yell, “For Màthair!”
Her heart stopped as she raised the dagger. If she cut her hand again in a blood oath, would she die? Would it split her soul a third time and destroy her? Was her life the price of Eimhir’s freedom?
Elea glanced down. There were only six people left of nearly three thousand, including her cousin. She could not—she would not—fail Nora again.
“For Màthair,” she whispered as she dragged the dagger across her palm, through the line of her blood oath to Nora. Elea held her hand high into the sky, the blood running down her arm.
And then she yelled the celestial word. “Bhòid!”
An unseen force nearly caused her to fall. It was more than the wind. She clenched her bloody fist tighter and more blood dripped down her arm.
“Bhòid!”she yelled again. “Oath-breakers, I curse your souls to the lowest of the seven purgatories!”
A hush fell over the battle. Elea felt every eye look up to her on the tower. It was all she could do to stay on her feet, between the unseen force around her and her own shaking knees. Somewhere in the mass of soldiers were the one hundred guards from Argylly Castle who had sworn their blood oaths to her and broken them. She watched, one by one, as each of the oath-breakers’ bodies fell to the ground, inanimate. Their souls rose to meet her at the tower as if hungry for her blood. She was surrounded by them. Overwhelmed by their smells: defiance, sadness, fear, guilt. Even souls had feelings. Both the souls and their emotions were pressing in on her. As if trying to enter her body.
Elea closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate on her words. “Oath-breakers, I condemn your souls to the lowest of the seven purgatories!”
When she opened her eyelids, the souls were gone. She stumbled to the edge of the tower and looked down. Matteo and Nora had used her distraction to escape the soldiers who encircled them. They had swum across the moat.
“Open the gates!” Elea yelled, her voice now hoarse. “Your queen commands you to open the gates!”
The drawbridge descended slowly with the sound of scraping metal.
Her knees shook beneath her, but it wasn’t her legs. It was the castle. It was an earth shake. She knew in her heart that Eimhir’s mountain was falling. Her ancestor’s soul was finally free. Elea hoped that wherever her ancestor went, heavens or purgatories, that at last, Eimhir would be reunited with her sisters.
Elea saw the soldiers pursuing Nora and Matteo fall back into the moat with a splash. Buildings and bricks fell on whole companies of Urkan soldiers that filled the city. The rumble continued. Matteo and Nora climbed onto the half-lowered drawbridge. They slid down the wood and into the safety of the keep. She watched her men and women desperately crank the gate closed. The destruction continued.
Finally, the shaking stopped.
There was not one building still standing in the city. Every soldier who had entered the walls was now crushed by falling stone. Outside of the city was nearly a half of the army and her uncle Laird Lochdon. But they were fleeing from the rubble. From her.
She slumped down against the stone, breathing heavily.
Fulfilling Eimhir’s oath hadn’t required her death. It had simply required her to care more for her cousin than for herself. Something she could have done her entire life.