Chapter IX. A Saint Godless #2
“I knew them. Knew them both. The sight of them outside my home burned forever into my mind’s eye.
Four of seven were ashes now; Danton, Alba, Aléne, added to Laure’s tally.
But three Princes of Forever remained. My heart burned with hate as I set eyes on the pair, the strength of holy mountains aflame within my boiling blood.
“The first had stepped from a tower door on the southern battlements, glowering at the de León soldiers with eyes of midnight. He was square of jaw, thick black hair combed back from a widow’s peak, his beard plaited with gold.
A cloak made of crow’s feathers mantled a suit of dark steel fullplate, and a great double-headed weapon rested on his shoulder, wrought of that same metal.
Its business end was fashioned like twinned raven’s beaks; some hellish marriage of scythe and maul.
“‘Ettiene,’ I growled.
“The second strode from the chateau doors, flung apart with a mighty boom.
She was tall, pallid features daubed with blood so that her face resembled a skull.
Thick braids of black touched her waist, and plate of dark steel shrouded her body, deaths heads adorning every surface.
A greatscythe of that same dark steel was poised in her fists, twice as long as a man.
And as she raised it toward the Beaufort boys, her name slipped my teeth as a curse.
“‘Kestrel.’
“The Iron Maiden and the Black Crow; dark lovers if rumor were true. Only God knows the tally of blood between them, but it must have measured an ocean.
“‘Aaron, cover the boys from the Maiden!’ I roared. ‘I’ll take the Crow!’
“Aaron glanced toward me amid the bloody hue and cry. His normally immaculate clothes were drenched in gore now, porcelain skin dusted with ashes. He was surrounded by a sea of claws and fangs, but he spared a moment to meet my eyes.
“‘God go with you, brother.’
“Cutting right, I carved toward the southern stairs. Valor sang in my hands, volleys of flaming arrows rained upon the walls, shuffshuffshuff! filling the air. But though the ranks of our enemies were as thin as we’d hoped, the Beauforts were bogged down with Kestrel now, and Ettiene was carving through our soldiers on the battlements one-handed.
Left to his own devices, the Crow would eat those men alive.
“I reached the highwalk, drenched in blood. Glancing beyond the walls, I saw Lachie and Tolman had smashed the outer gates, trying desperately to batter through the final inner doors. Wretched were spilling from the sally ports out among our soldiers, snows running red. Turning from the mangled pile of bodies he’d made, Ettiene’s pale lips curled in the coldest of smiles as he saw me.
“‘Long years, de León. Fine day for a reunion, no? ’
“I felt his mind crash upon mine; an avalanche of darkness and ice. But though Phoebe had betrayed me, I still could have kissed her for the gift of her blood as I slammed shut the doors, forcing that bastard out, spitting red onto the frozen stones between us.
“‘Finer day for a funeral.’
“Black eyes roamed Valor, drenched in my hand. His smile grew colder.
“‘Think ye shall slay a Prince of Forever with a silvered splinter, boy? ’
“‘I’ve butchered three of your kin already, bastard. Let’s make it an even four.’
“Ettiene dragged on his greathelm—dark steel again, crafted like a raven’s beak—raising his maul in salute. Valor held high, I charged across the frozen stone.
“And the battle for this empire was truly joined.
“Below in the courtyard, Aaron and my brothers danced with Kestrel, silversteel their song, wheellock fire their drum.
The Maiden had charged with more Voss knights at her side, longblades and greatswords in hand.
Aaron was first to meet them, hurling himself into the maw as Epitaph cleaved the air, crashing upon the first Voss knight, spinning into a second.
Platemail shattered like glass and the two coldbloods were sent flying in pieces, crashing into the walls beneath my feet and bursting into ash.
“Aaron flew on with his blade’s momentum, digging in his heels as he landed, pirouetting with Epitaph’s colossal weight and flinging sideways through the air.
My lips split in a savage smile as I realized his target—not Kestrel and her knights, but those wretched pressed against the inner gates, holding Lachie and Tolman at bay.
Bringing Epitaph down, Aaron split those foulbloods and crossbeams asunder.
Ironwood splintered, bodies exploded, Aaron landing in a hail of gore and broken kindling.
And with a roar, the gates split apart, at last letting the thousands of soldiers swarming outside in.
“And just like that, the tide ran in our favor.
“Up on the battlements, Ettiene’s maul skimmed my chin, his follow-through sent me skidding across the frozen walls.
I charged back into him like a hurricane, Valor flashing in the ash-struck air, sending him flying down the highwalk and tumbling across the ice.
But he was on his feet again in a blinking, utterly unharmed.
“Here was strife, Historian. For while I was as strong as I’d been in the battle of Dún Maergenn, there was a difference between the day we stormed Nikita’s capital and this.”
“Your aegis,” Jean-Francois said.
“Oui,” the silversaint sighed. “It no longer burned. While I’d been told Dior lived, I’d not seen her with my own eyes.
Perhaps my faith had simply taken too many batterings over the years, nothing left inside me to give.
Whatever the reason, my ink didn’t glow as it did for my brethren, blinding their foes as they charged into the bailey.
And while no end of pisshouse minstrels have claimed me the greatest swordsman who ever lived, Ettiene was a maestro with that maul.
Strong as I was, fighting alone, he’d have proved my match.
“But I fought not alone that day.
“She crested a troop ladder at my back, Lightbringer aflame. Holy sisters of San Maximille spilling over the ramparts behind her, Charlotte raised that simple wheel of hand-carved rowan wood about her throat in one hand, stepping toward Ettiene without fear.
“‘The Lord is my shield unbreakable! ’
“Bright light flared, the vampire recoiling before Charlotte’s dauntless faith.
I struck as he stumbled, and though Ettiene’s flesh turned my blow aside, his weapon was sent flying from his grip.
Desperate to escape the light of Charlotte’s wheel, the Black Crow charged, crashing into my chest. My cousin roared my name as the pair of us sailed off the battlements, tangled in each other’s arms as we smashed onto the cobbles far below.
“Down in that courtyard, the Iron Maiden now waltzed with the brothers Beaufort. Their aegis was blinding, and long had that pair fought side by side against the Dead. Eirene and Evangeline swooped down from the skies, raking the Iron Maiden’s scalp and face with silver-tipped claws, Kestrel cursing as she backed away.
“I’ve heard it said that twins have a language beyond words—that ofttimes the one will know what the other is thinking without speaking at all.
And so it seemed now; the brothers moving like smoke, crashing like waves, blades flashing in the silverlight.
But if each Beaufort knowing the other’s mind was a boon, it was also twice a curse—Kestrel could read those thoughts, too, if she bent her will to it.
“Carlos wove right, Kestrel spun left. Valentino feinted deftly, but the Iron Maiden stood unmoved, a smile on bloody lips. Both twins struck together, yet the Prince of Forever wove back, seeing each blow coming long before it fell. And as Evangeline and Eirene swooped down to strike again at the Maiden’s back, the vampire spun like a dancer and cleaved both falcons from the sky.
“Feathers and mist were all that remained, Carlos roaring in fury. He struck, head, chest, belly, Valentino’s blade hissing toward Kestrel’s knees.
As the vampire leapt high, she twisted her weapon’s haft, splitting it in two—scythe in one hand, longblade the other.
And landing in a crouch, she flung out her arms, each blade catching a Beaufort on its edge.
“Valentino lost his arm, muscle and bone cleaved through. Poor Carlos lost much more, the Maiden’s scythe whispering as it flung his head from his shoulders.
Valentino bellowed his brother’s name as he fell, gushing blood from his sundered shoulder.
Kestrel spit him like a pig on her longblade, raising her scythe for the deathblow.
“‘FOR SAN MICHON!’
“The roar of black ignis split the sky, Kestrel hissing as the air was filled with silver caustic.
Silverbombs flew, mechwork bows sang, Lachlan and Tolman leading a charge across the bailey, Aaron at their flank.
They were a flood, roaring as they came, men and silversaints plowing into that wall of Dead flesh.
Charlotte had secured the southern battlements, waves of men in de León tabards now spilling over the walls.
“I was down on the bloody cobbles, brawling with Ettiene, fists, elbows, teeth. Disarmed, the Prince seized my throat, the strength of the ancien Dead in his grip. And smashing my skull against the flagstones, he squeezed.
“‘My dread father hath foreseen this day, Lion. All thy struggles for naught.’
“I broke his grip, spitting. ‘Don’t look now, dickhead. But dear Papa is losing.’
“Cold light gleamed in black eyes as he laughed, slamming me into the stonework again. ‘The rivers frozen. Bridges rebuilt. Aready we could have marched to Augustin. Why think ye, we waited here? Why think thee we allowed thee in? ’
“Scrabbling at the buckles, I tore the helmet from Ettiene’s head. The face beneath was cruel, my blood running cold at his smile.
“‘Witness now thy folly.’