“I was never your daughter.”
47
GERARD
It was a miracle. There was no other word for it. Gerard looked and saw an endless line of boats sailing up the river. Captain Moulton had assembled a makeshift navy in less than a day. Gerard lifted the captain’s telescope and he saw the green army from his dreams. Focusing the lens, he saw a small body of soldiers attacking the army. And a glimpse of purple hair.
Was it Elea?
Or Nora?
He was too far away to tell.
“Prepare the cannons,” Gerard called. He had shed Petit’s coat and wore only his white shirt. “We will fire as soon as our guns can reach them.”
He heard his order echoed from boat to vessel, down the line. The wind picked up in the sails. Màthair was blowing their ships faster. Closer to the fighting. Lifting the telescope again, he saw wagons on fire and the smaller group of soldiers who were being forced back from the army. It was time to make it a two-front battle.
Holding up his hand, Gerard yelled, “Fire.”
The two cannons on Captain Moulton’s ship fired into the green army. More of the Urkan ships fired. He saw the leaders of the green army still facing the opposite way. They were not trying to defend themselves from the ships. Gerard called for another barrage of cannonballs. Smoke, fire, and screams filled the air. But Elea’s force was still not winning.
Gerard grabbed a rope from the sail and swung onto the shore. He pulled out his sword and yelled, “Attack on land.”
Most of the men from Captain Moulton’s ship followed him and he watched as more sailors swung and scrambled onto the shore with their pistols and swords. Men and women were still leaving their ships when he yelled, “Charge.”
Running, he led the sailors to attack the back of the army. As he lifted his sword, he remembered his last fight. He’d killed his own mother. No, he’d killed an enemy because he hadn’t known she was his mother. These men were enemies of Elea and therefore him.
He stabbed the first soldier in the back before pulling his sword out of the man to block a hit. The green army was beginning to turn around to face the fresh group of fighting sailors, which would give Elea’s force a chance to regroup. The Urkan Army tried to enter formations, but they weren’t fighting soldiers. They were fighting sailors who did not follow rules or patterns. They used whatever means it took to win.
Gerard picked up a fallen shield and fought through the crowd of green, slashing and stabbing with all of his might until he saw purple hair. It was Nora in her golden armor. She was astride a horse and regrouping her cavalry for a second charge. Matteo was at her side. He was covered in blood, but Gerard didn’t need a seer stone to know that it wasn’t his own. Nora led her cavalry to charge the flank of soldiers, carefully avoiding the fighting sailors and picking off any of the green army that was trying to flee.
Ducking a blow, Gerard continued to fell as many soldiers as he could. It was a slaughter like he’d never seen before. Hundreds on both sides had fallen by cannon and sword. Then he saw her.
Elea.
He felt the whish of a blade coming toward him. On instinct, he lifted his shield. The soldier’s sword cut his arm and he dropped the stolen shield. Gerard blocked the next blow with his own sword but tripped over a body. He fell backward. His elbow slammed against the ground and he dropped his sword.
The soldier lifted his weapon above his head and brought it down.
48
ELEA
Battles were worse up close. Elea could see the faces of the dying. Hear their screams when her flaming arrows blew up their wagons. The smell of their bravery and fear filled her senses. These men and women should not have been her enemies. They were Urkans. Her people. And she loved them.
Every single one of them.
Leading was not about power but about the people.
Without the people, a crown was only an expensive trinket.
She lifted her bow and released another arrow. She was one of only fifteen archers who were standing on a small hill overlooking the battle and fires below. They were old men and women, including her grandmother, but they had successfully started all of the wagons on fire. Her foot volunteers, however, were being pushed back by the Urkan soldiers. There were simply too many of them. Her volunteers needed help.
Cocking another arrow, she let it fly before running toward the fight. Her heart felt like it was on fire and her knees shook. Yet she ran toward her fear. As a queen, she was not more important than any of the men and women out there fighting for her. For their freedom. Màthair loved all of her children equally. Each person’s eternal worth was incalculable.
Elea stopped short of the fighting and shot every single arrow in her quiver. Once they were gone, she picked up an abandoned sword with both hands because it was surprisingly heavy. She swung it inexpertly, but it didn’t matter. The soldiers fled before her. They feared her violet hair. They believed in the prophecy.
She watched sailboats appear as if out of thin air, bursting with cannonball fire. Then an army of men and women climbed off the boats and attacked. Elea saw Nora lead charge after charge until her horse and her golden armor were red with blood. Lifting the sword once more, she continued forward, pushing the soldiers toward the sailors. Until something, someone, caused her to stop in her tracks. It was Gerard’s blue eyes.