A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Page B

determined to
keep Erec safe, stood her ground, waiting, wanting to join Strom’s men, but
knowing her place was here, by Erec’s side. So far, it was quiet within the
city walls. Eerily quiet. Too quiet.
    As soon as she thought it, suddenly, that all
changed. Alistair heard a great battle shout, and charging around the corner of
the house of the sick there poured out hundreds of Bowyer’s men, charging right
for the doors.
    They stopped but feet away, as they saw
Alistair there, proudly, unyielding, her dozen watchmen behind her. Alistair
knew instantly that they were all well outnumbered by Bowyer’s men, and from
the smug look on his face, she saw that Bowyer’s lead knight, Aknuf, knew it,
too.
    A thick silence fell over them as Aknuf stepped
forward and faced off against Alistair.
    “Out of the way, witch,” he said. “And I will
kill you quickly. Stand there, and it will be slow and painful.”
    Alistair stood her ground, unwavering.
    “You will not pass through these doors,” she
said firmly. “Unless I am dead at your feet.”
    “Very well, woman,” he replied. “Just remember:
you brought this on yourself.”
    Aknuf raised his sword high, and as he did, her
dozen watchmen rushed forward to protect her. They all met in battle but ten
yards before her. There arose a great clash of arms, as the watchmen fought
valiantly, going blow for blow with Bowyer’s men.
    But they were vastly outnumbered, and soon
Bowyer’s men closed in on her. Alistair knew that in but moments they would lose
the battle, and she could not stand to see these men die on her watch,
protecting her and Erec.
    Alistair closed her eyes and raised her palms
up high overhead, towards the sky. She used all of her might to summon her
power.
    Please, God. Let it come to me.
    She slowly felt a great power rising up within
her, and as she did, a brilliant white light, like a streak of lightning, burst
through the dawn sky, came shooting down at her from the clouds high above. She
pulled her arms down and aimed her palms at Bowyer’s men, and as she did, a
great noise erupted as chaos ensued.
    Hail the size of rocks began falling from the
sky; the sound of ice cracking armor filled the air. Alistair directed the hail
to the other side of the battle line, missing her own men and pounding down on
Bowyer’s men, one man at a time, with such force that it knocked them down,
shrieking. It freed up her watchmen, one at a time, who fought back, killing
them left and right.
    Bowyer’s men, terrified, unable to raise their
swords, pounded by the ice, turned and ran for the city gates, her watchmen
chasing after them.
    There came another great battle shout from
behind her, and Alistair turned to see Strom pouring into the city with all his
men. She looked up and saw the hillsides filled with dead soldiers, heard the
trumpet sounding out three times for victory, and she realized Strom had won.
    Alistair looked out and saw the hundreds of Bowyer’s
men, still fleeing from the house of the sick, running for the open city gates.
They were trying to escape, surely to regroup on another day, on another field
of battle. Alistair was determined that would not be.
    Alistair redirected her palm, and as she did, a
white light shot forth and the huge iron portcullis, a foot thick, came
slamming down at the city gates, stopping Bowyer’s men from leaving.
    Aknuf turned, trapped with his men, and
watched, terrified, as Strom’s men closed in.
    Strom, sitting proudly on his horse, turned to
her, as if to ask for her approval.
    Alistair, thinking of Erec, nodded gravely.
    With one final battle cry, Strom charged with
his men, closing in on the men at the gates from all directions.
    Alistair stood there and watched, satisfied, as
their shouts arose.
    Finally, it was over. Finally, the island was
safe. Finally, justice had been done.
    *
    Alistair stood at Erec’s bedside in the dim
chamber, watching the morning sunrise, feeling an immense sense of relief.
Victory