Chapters (61)
- Cover
- Praise for Anne Bishop
- Also by Anne Bishop
- THE HOUSE OF GAIAN
- Copyright
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
“You two,” he said, flicking a finger at the two women. “Get the servants out of the house. Have them take whatever food they can put together quickly, and get them out. They aren’t fighters. There’s nothing they can do here.” When Breanna turned, he grabbed her arm. “Fetch my bow while you’re in there.”
Breanna gave him a cool stare. “Do I look like your valet?”
He grinned. He couldn’t help it. “My valet never fetches my bow. That’s a loving sister’s duty.”
Her only response was a grunt as she stepped away from him and ran to catch up to Gwenn, who was dashing up the steps to the front door of the manor.
“That’s what I like most about Breanna,” Donovan said dryly. “She’s so articulate.”
“She can say a lot while saying little,” Liam agreed.
The small banter and Breanna’s presence settled him, grounded him. He would do what he could, protect what he could—and hope they were still together when the sun set on this day.
Brisk orders now to saddle horses, hitch others to wagons. If they had to retreat and abandon the manor house, which Liam expected they would have to do, it would be easier to escape on horseback and regroup at another spot. The rest of the horses and other livestock—the few cows and chickens—were set free. It would be a headache to round them up again, but he wasn’t going to leave them as easy supplies to feed the enemy.
It didn’t surprise him that most of the men who worked in his stables left with the younger servants when he gave them the choice. They were, after all, his father’s men and felt no loyalty to him. It didn’t surprise him that Arthur stayed, looking pale and grim as he took up a position near the horses he loved, a pitchfork in his hands.
What did surprise him was how many of the servants stayed, armed with fireplace pokers and the longest of the kitchen knives.
Not surprising, Breanna told him. The house servants were Elinore’s people, and he was Elinore’s son.
To her, it was as simple as that.
He had a bad moment when he caught movement among the trees close to the manor until he spotted Varden and realized the Fae huntsmen were moving quietly to take up their positions.
Maybe that would be better. Move up to the low stone wall at the top of the drive and meet the enemy on the road.
Then it was too late to move. Crows exploded from the trees. A hawk screamed.
And Liam saw the dust kicked up by hundreds of feet as the gentry leaders on horseback turned into the long drive that led up to the manor. The flood of men behind them ran up the drive, arrows already nocked in their bows.