Mordred and Gawain stepped forward and restrained Lancelot, their faces impassive and cold. I expected that from Mordred, because he had clearly orchestrated this little revealing incident. But Gawain. This was unlike him, as well.
Percivale and Gaheris took the queen’s arms, pulling her with them down the long halls to the dungeons. To their credit, my parents allowed themselves to be taken prisoner, even though they could easily have escaped. They disappeared down the hall.
"Where are they now?" I whispered.
The water rippled and another picture formed. Guinevere was hanging in a dungeon, exactly how we had found Lucan. She was not bloodied, but she was hanging limply, her eyes closed. Her hands were white from loss of blood as they were bound tightly above her head. Lancelot was in the oubliette, staring ferociously at the dark wall. He was stripped of his shirt and there were lash-marks on his back. They had beaten him and he had allowed it. Pride surged through me at the determination of my parents.
They were sacrificing everything for this and now they were waiting for me.
"Mother, it is time," I whispered. Her eyes snapped open, turning silver at my words. My father raised his head, his dark eyes meeting mine through the darkness.
It is time, I repeated silently.
They were gone. Both disappeared in the blink of an eye, my mother’s manacles dangling limply in the air where she had just been hanging.
"Well, that certainly took you long enough," my father growled from behind me.
I turned just in time for my mother to rush into my arms.
"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. "Why are you bloody?" She held me at arm’s length examining me.
"I’m fine now," I answered. "I’m happy that you’re here and I’m sorry for the delay. But we have the sword."
My father clapped me on the back.
"Well done, daughter," he said approvingly. "I knew you would do it." He was sweaty and bloody, but he didn’t appear to mind. The lashes on his back were deep, but he didn’t even flinch as he moved. My father had the strength of an ox and he was almost just that big.
Courtney Cole 122
With My Last Breath, Book Three
Lucan stepped forward. "Ares," he dipped his head. "Aphrodite."
They stared at him as if he had two heads. I smiled.
"Lucan knows everything. I opened the box of souls and Cadmus’ soul is now in this body. It’s a long story."
"One that I will be interested in hearing," my mother replied, her eyebrow raised.
Hecate interrupted, her voice firm.
"And you will. But not right now. We have a battle to wage."
Courtney Cole 123
With My Last Breath, Book Three
Chapter Twenty
Hecate looked seriously at me, then at Lucan and my parents.
"Let us rejoin the others. We must form a strategy."
Taking my arm, my mother walked with me, as the others lagged behind. She didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that she has just been hanging in chains, something that I found strange. She casually remarked about the desolation of the countryside and the quiet plains surrounding us which caused me to stare at her with my mouth open.
"Are you alright, mother?" I asked. "You seem strangely unbothered by all that has happened."
She turned her silvery gaze upon me.
"Why? Because I am not weeping? I am choosing not to think of it, for fear that I would not be able to control my anger. You know my temper, dear one. If I knew what had happened to cause your injuries," and she gestured at my bloody clothing, "Or if I focused on the satisfied look that sniveling Mordred had when he ordered me into chains, then I fear that my temper would rage. Instead, let us prepare for vengeance, yes?"
She was eerily calm and I had to admire her effort. I knew though, that all hell would break loose at some point. Her calm façade would crack and then she would explode.
The battalion of undead chieftains was still converged on the field next to the old farmhouse. Their horses were calm and they were all still, patiently waiting for us to reappear. They were already lined up in battle formations and I smiled at their enthusiasm.
My mother startled as she saw their vast number, and then she quickly regained her composure like the goddess that she was. She didn’t even ask any questions. She simply took her place quietly at the front of the crowd next to me, as we waited for Hecate, Lucan and Ares, who were just a few steps behind us.
Hecate stepped forward and addressed them.
"In the past, as gods from the Spiritlands, any time that we have traveled in the mortal world, it has always been necessary to leave things as we found them, to not interfere. But now, today, that is no longer a problem. The Fates have changed things so completely, that we cannot do any further harm. We have raised a battalion of the finest Briton warriors from the dead and we shall call upon every available resident in the Spiritlands to help us this day."
Courtney Cole 124
With My Last Breath, Book Three
There were a few shouts of approval as she closed her eyes and murmured, her voice raising to a chant. Every eye in the crowd was trained on her, waiting to see who she would summon. Even the horses were still in anticipation.
And suddenly, the empty field to our left was filled. Ortrera and her warriors were in the front, sitting atop their massive warhorses. Their huge wings rose and fell softly as they breathed. Behind them were various gods and goddesses from the Spiritlands, all armed and wearing ferocious expressions. I could see Chaos, Erythia, Hypnos and Iris leading the mass of familiar faces. Aeolus, the god of the wind, leaned forward in his saddle and winked at me. I nodded my head toward him. He might come in handy here. Everyone, it seemed, was ready to fight.
Ares stepped from behind me to the front, his bulging muscles glistening in the light, his torso still bare. As I watched his expression transform into that of a warrior, into the god of war, my stomach trembled at the sight in front of me. This was the sight that so many had seen as they drew their last breaths… as my father had taken their lives from them.
His abs were ripped and tight, his arms as hard as steel. His eyes were deadly and I shivered slightly as his gaze passed over me and examined the crowd.
"Today," Ares shouted, "Every one of you here is a warrior. We fight for one common cause- to restore the world to what it should be. The mortal world and my own have been overturned by the whims of the twisted.
"Today," he continued, "We will rise above it and take it back. On our backs, we will carry truth and righteousness. We will be armed with honor and dignity."