And second, he should have called in the dragons. He should have made the decision to extinguish the lives of twelve thousand of his countrymen to save his love, to save his friends, to save his life and to save his realm.

And last, he and the woman he loved were going to die on that field.

He could not have stopped her being there.

No, he never could have stopped her from raising her sword to protect his reign and free the women of Airen.

He also could not stop their daughters from facing more loss.

But if he had to die, he would choose doing it fighting for right with his woman at his back.

The rage, however, still consumed him as he thrust up his sword, roaring his wrath.

At this signal, he heard the feminine shouts as Fern’s army invaded at the right flank just as a barrage of arrows screamed into the fray from Fern’s archers that had positioned themselves high in the trees to their right.

They, too, were untrained, if not, Silvanus had shared, entirely unskilled.

As best they could, they’d been preparing for just this day.

Regardless, they only had such weapons as they could steal from the homes they’d left or their raid on Kilcree Break.

They had utterly no armor.

Their only advantage was determination and the burning rage of centuries of oppression.

Cassius feared they’d be cut down in little time, and those who survived, if the battle was lost, would wish they’d died on the field with what would befall them after.

This being why he held them to the last.

But in the now, they caused havoc, alarm and redirected attention.

And all of this was sorely needed.

He thrust and deflected, with sword and shield, the blood of his enemy and the rain from the skies dripping down his face and his leathers, as he bellowed to Elena, “Use your magic!”

Serena slipped and fell while he was shouting.

Elena dashed toward her sister, screaming through a backhand swipe she delivered that tore open an enemy soldier’s shoulder and half his chest before the man could lower his sword onto her fallen sister.

Serena caught another blade aimed at Elena on her way up.

Gods, the enemy was so close, there were so many of them, he could feel their fucking breath.

“Gods dammit, Ellie!” he thundered, without Elena at his back, nearly taking a slice to the stomach before he got his shield in front of it. “Use your bloody magic!”

He did not know if she did or she didn’t when, over the din of shouts, grunts, steel striking steel, cries of pain, moans of agony, he heard the rumble of hooves.

Many, many hooves.