The High Lord of Summer

8. Adriata Attacked

My stomach dropped.

Ships. Thousands of ships spread out along the horizon. The tension in Tarquin's demeanour told me enough, these ships were not ours.

Get those who cannot fight to safety. The Eastern Tower. I heard Tarquin's voice in my mind.

I looked into his face, it was if he had said it out loud, but I knew he didn't. I didn't have time to wonder about how that had happened.

In a heartbeat, Tarquin's wedding clothes had transformed into his battle armour. My heart stopped: this threat was real. Incredibly real.

The room was filled with exclamations of shock and awe, people marvelling at the ships. Those exclamations quickly turned to fear, and turmoil rippled throughout the crowd.

Tarquin looked at Varian and nodded, the silent message sent between the two. Varian now clad in his own battle armour, weaving through the crowd in a beeline toward the door.

Tarquin squeezed my hand and kissed my temple before winnowing out of the ballroom.

Varian reappeared at the doors, although he appeared calm on the outside, I could sense his uneasiness. I saw Blaik and Harlow sprint for the door, their bridesmaid dresses turning into battle garments as they ran.

"Those who are prepared to fight for your territory, join me in the court yard behind the west wing." His voice boomed across the ballroom, silencing the chaos. The Fae willing to fight began to file towards the door, others stayed where they were, the chaos building again.

"Those who cannot fight, follow me to the Eastern Tower." I was surprised at the volume and steadiness of my own voice. Still in my wedding gown, I picked up a crying youngling from where it sat near my feet and strode out of the ballroom in the direction of the Eastern Tower.

The cries of the younglings and the slapping of feet on marble echoed through the corridors as I lead the group towards the Eastern Tower. I had to keep my mind on the task at hand, otherwise my anxiety threatened to consume me. Tarquin and I were separated. I didn't know where he was. An armada was coming. What if that goodbye was my last?

At the top of the Eastern Tower was the room Tarquin used for weapons practice. It was a vast room, spanning the entire diameter of the tower. Sandstone floors were interspersed with sandy pits, and training swords and spears lined the walls.

I shepherded the fae, mainly younglings, into the room. Summer Court fae were nothing if not stubborn and proud, of course they would all want to fight for their court. I wanted to be down there. I wanted to fight by my husband's side. My mate's side.

Many of the younglings flocked to the west facing windows, struggling to get a view of the chaos below.

I had not noticed Cresseida follow me to the tower. She wrapped her arms around me in a brief hug, and then held me at arms length to look into my eyes.

"A few of the servants will take care of the younglings. I know you want to fight as much as I do." Cresseida's expression was intense, and her eyes blazed with the fury of the sun. She handed me a sword that she hastily tore from the wall of weapons, and strapped a long sword to her back. She had clearly done this before. 

We fled the tower and rushed down the spiral staircase, following the battle cries we could hear outside the palace. Somewhere along the way, I shucked my wedding gown and threw on the fighting leathers Marin had always forced me to keep in between. They were incredibly stiff and uncomfortable, but they offered me a larger range of movement than my wedding gown. 

We spilled out of the stairs and into the foyer, and rushed out into the northern courtyard, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. 

An aerial legion spread across the northern horizon. Black, membranous wings flapping from the strong bodies of rugged looking fae. I knew at once that these were the Illyrian warriors Marin had told me stories of. How he had idolised them. Seeing them now, I could see why. 

They flew swiftly in the direction of the beach, where the Armada was surely approaching by now. They flew with a kind of feral elegance, something beautiful, but animal about the way they soared through the air. Glowing stones of red, blue and green gleamed from the backs of their hands. Great beams of power shot out of them, straight to the beach. I could not help but stand and watch them.

"Aria! We need to move!" Cresseida commanded, shocking me back to my senses. 

I nodded. We ran. We barrelled out of the courtyard and into the lane that lead down to the main thoroughfare of Adriata. The city had already been bathed in fae blood. Palace guards, fae that I recognised, lay motionless on the sandstone street, their lifeblood draining from them like a slick, ruby river. I was overcome. 

I was suddenly very aware of my limited battle experience. The few combat skills Marin had taught me. My breaths were coming quick and shallow.

"Breathe, Aria." Cresseida took me by the arm and pulled me along with her. She grabbed a dagger and a rapier from a fallen soldier in colours I did not recognise, and handed me the dagger. 

I could sense Tarquin's presence, although I was unsure how close he was. Just feeling that he was nearby washed a wave of calm over me. I could feel him, he was alive.

I looked to the south, and there he was, atop a cliff, hands raised above his head, not unlike the day on the beach. Only this time he was not controlling one wave, but the entire bay. Varian stood beside him, hands raised in the same manner.

A troop of fifty soldiers rounded the corner, heading straight for the palace. I called on my wind magic, using all of my will to press them back, keep them at bay.

As I did this, Cresseida shot a spear of sea water at them, they fell. Cresseida was on them in a breath, a sword in each hand, slashing and stabbing. I tested the sword in my hand. The grip felt funny and it was heavy, I gave it a tentative swing to test it out, and dived into the fray after her. 

I swung the sword about wildly, chopping at random soldiers' limbs and extremities. Whenever I could feel the sword cut into flesh, my stomach churned. I was careful not to slice Cresseida in my frenzy, but she was so focused that she barely even registered my presence. She had cut down the troop almost entirely on her own. 

As the last soldier in the troop fell, she looked at me with furious hunger in her eyes. We charged on through the city. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two females I  did not recognise. They were both wearing fighting leathers that coated their bodies like a second skin. One had hair of gold, one golden brown. Their presence made me anxious for half a breath, before the golden haired one put her dagger into the throat of an enemy soldier. 

Allies.

There were few other Summer Court soldiers in the streets, many of the fighters were palace guards, and many of them had already fallen. The majority of our armies were focused on the armada in the bay. 

Another enemy patrol marched through the thoroughfare, soldiers more numerous than the troop we just felled. I threw up my shield of air as Cresseida sent arrows of water at them. I raised my sword as we charged, but the soldiers pierced straight through my shield. That was impossible, how?A female, with nothing but malice in her eyes glared at me, as she held up her hand and blew something that resembled dust into my face. I drew the dagger and dove for her, the dagger piercing the flesh of her hand. She blocked me with her forearm as I attempted to drive my fist into her face. I tried to reach for my water powers, but they were not yielding. I tried to summon my shield again, but it wouldn't come. 

I let my eyes flick to the clifftop for just a second, Tarquin was no longer there. At that moment, I felt a searing pain in stomach, just above my right hip. 

I looked down to see a dagger of black steel buried to the hilt.