None of them went to their knees. None of them prayed for forgiveness. None of them cried out.

  Aurie watched as the Paladins in the distance, lined with their backs to her, facing the hundreds of men and women who had been refused entry through the gates, sent a thunderously sudden and overwhelming blast of bright Holy light against them. Some shielded themselves in halos of red but most were flung back into the trench. There was no warning, no hesitation, no mercy in the charge the Paladins did against those that stood their ground within those red bubbles.

  “I didn’t have the stomach for it the first time, either,” Qasim said when Aurie squinched in gut-wrenching horror as the braces were pulled from the rocks on the other side of the trench those people had just been pushed, thrown, and kicked into. “But you need to see. You need to know, so that you understand and can prepare yourself because it is not them we are truly fighting against.”

  “Then,” Aurie swallowed down the want to vomit as the last of the ridge of rocks filled into the trench, stifling the final screams and curses that echoed across the trees and village loud enough that she could hear it from the top of the bailey walls. “Why can’t we be…why can’t we make them see? Get them to understand? To convert?”

  Qasim gave her a saddened grin and shook his head, “Because they already were aware of God and were converted away from Him. They were corrupted.”

  “So, there’s no coming back from that?” Aurie narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t believe that. I can’t. God forgives. I feel that in my soul.”

  “They would be forgiven,” Qasim shrugged at her.

  The sound of rustling rocks made him hold up a finger and point toward the newly filled trench to draw Aurie’s gaze back to it. The rocks and rubble that was poured into the trench burst from it as tentacled creatures, so darkly skinned that they looked like shadows, leapt from it. The shrill hissing shrieks were ear piercing as the Paladins quickly slew them to a chorus of ground shaking booms from their explosions of Holy Spirit being thrust from them.

  Aurie heard the gasps of the onlookers below, whom the Clerics and knights had made watch, same as her. There were screams from among them. She wanted to scream at the sight. She wanted to run into the first set of arms she could find. No, she wanted to run into Draka’s arms, if she could find him. But she was frozen, gaping as Paladins were pulled apart in their struggle to slay the monsters she couldn’t even fully make out, as redness filled the trench like a river of glowing blood, as lightning rained from the sky against it to be directed by the steel spears in Paladin’s hands into them to drive them back.

  As quickly as they had emerged from the trench, they were driven back into it and the river of glowing crimson dimmed and extinguished as friars and monks rushed to the remaining Paladin’s sides with their crossed staves. Beams of light fell over the trench, dousing it as clouds parted in the sky above it, and the roar of battle came to a jolting, silent end.

  “But they had no souls left to be forgiven,” Qasim let out a disheartened breath. “When the Holy Spirit began speaking to you, it was already there because all souls belong to God, whether they know Him or not. That’s why you can’t sell your soul to the Enemy. It isn’t yours to sell. So, it is removed.”

  Aurie turned to him, shivering so much that the chainmail pressed snugly between the layers of coats and the thick armor she had been given by the Cardinal was rattling, her brows pushed together.

  “If they aren’t a Cleric or Paladin, then we have a bit of time, when they struggle against the possession of their body, to remove it before their soul is enslaved,” He blinked his eyes toward his wringing hands. “But if they’re Paladinate…their souls are irrevocably corrupted by the Enemy, turned into abominations and their bodies the vessels for them. All of them, their thoughts, their blood, their offspring, become nothing more than tools of the Enemy and his Generals. The Order of Saint Olga follow the Fallen Angels against God and gave themselves over to them. We learned this lesson the hard way and lost many because of it. Remember for whom you listen and be obedient. His is the only true command you follow, even if it means disobeying those appointed over you.”

  Aurie swallowed, trying to steady herself.

  “Tell me, did you hear the Holy Spirit say anything in opposition to this?”

  Aurie shook her head. She heard nothing but silence.

  “If we were ordering the death of innocents, you would have,” Qasim gave her another grin tinged with sadness. “You’re dismissed, Paladin. Your training will resume tomorrow in the armory after morning mass. Don’t be late.”

  Aurie nodded. She didn’t know if she was supposed to say anything else. She didn’t know if she was supposed to do anything else. She stood there, blinking, her mouth still hanging open as she tried to comprehend what she had just seen. Qasim turned back to overlooking the village and she nodded one more time to herself before making her way down into the bailey.

  The faces that watched her weren’t filled with glares or disgust, they were filled with horror and tearful admiration. They had been pulled from family members, had seen their own husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, children and grandchildren, through the bridge gate, around the wagon that barricaded them from getting out, the reason. They had witnessed the use of unholy power against the Paladins, had seen the demons rising from their corpses, and the power of God defeat them.

  There were no doubts in their eyes. Instead there was fear that only knowledge can give you and a pleading hope that she might be able to protect them from it.

  She wished that she could tuck her hand under her thick breast plate to press at the churning of her stomach. Her gut was churning under their gazes. Even Senna was gaping at her, standing in front of the opened door to the new infirmary like a frightened child instead of a woman who was becoming a nurse for the battlefield.

  Aurie’s ears perked to the cry of an infant. She jerked her head toward it.

  Draka staggered to a stop just beyond the stables. His wide eyes were white halos around golden circles surrounded by blood smeared features at her. His armor wasn’t glistening with the fresh polish like hers even though it was just as new. Instead, it was dripping with blood and caked with bits that she only allowed herself a single, overarching glance at. That was when she saw his bare hand behind the tiny bald head over his shoulder with the other holding the swaddled tabard around the baby on his chest. Her hands leapt to cover her falling mouth.

  “Oh, Lord,” Aurie’s eyes welled as she rushed to him, reaching. “Whose baby is this?”

  Draka’s lips were trembling. She saw the lines the tears had made down his face. She saw the crinkling of sorrowful brows. She saw the worry on his face as she took the crying baby from him and cradled it in her arms to see its wailing little face. The plump, soft cheeks were wrinkled around a wailing, toothless mouth, its eyes clenched tightly shut. The nose was still small and bridgeless. It was still breastfeeding.

  She shook her head at it as she began rocking her arms to calm it. “Where’s the mother?”

  There was a look of guilt on Draka’s face as he half turned back toward the door to the Hall. It was being filled with men and barrels of water being blessed by friars standing on either side.

  Aurie’s heart ached. Her tears dropped on the tabard wrapping the babe as she remembered what Qasim had told her. Their offspring…

  “He’s not…” She drew in a breath through trembling lips.

  Draka shook her shoulder so that she turned to see his shaking head. He was trying to grin. He was struggling. Whatever had happened in there was still gnawing at his thoughts, eating away at his heart. She could see it. But this child, this tiny infant that was far too young to be without a mother, still needed a mother’s milk, was keeping him here. His hand brushed the back of Aurie’s hair and rested on the side of her ear as he stepped closer to hunch over the child.

  She was keeping him here, too, she realized when she looked up at him. They all were.

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  “Your Majesty,” A Knight tapped his shoulder. Two others were behind him with a barrel of water lifted between them.

  Draka nodded hollowly and motioned for Aurie to step back as he went to the barrel. The three Knights lifted the barrel up and dumped it over Draka’s head, dowsing him in water that sent a waft of Holy energy into Aurie’s senses like a breath of fresh air.

  The baby calmed in her arms. Draka raised his head toward the sky, steam rising from the holy water washing away the blood, the remnants of the horrors he had faced in the Hall. She could see his sigh of relief as he breathed it all in.

  Dripping, glistening with the water on his face and hair, over his silvery armor, Draka lowered his head to look upon her again, the sadness nearly washed away. Other barrels were being dumped on the Paladins that emerged from the Hall, including Enya. The baby in her arms calmed with each one until it was snuggled in her arms, asleep.

  “The trench?” Enya whipped her braided hair, spraying drops of water in all directions as she approached. “Is it all done?”

  Aurie nodded, “Demons and all. It’s done.”

  Enya heaved a strained sigh of relief. “I can’t wait to get my hands on the Saint Olgas for making us do this. I can’t wait to…I can’t…” She growled until Draka grabbed her by the collar of her armor and shook her with a jerk.

  Aurie took a step back. She had the baby raised protectively to her chest as she watched Draka pulled Enya’s forehead to touch his, looking deep into her eyes with as much hate and anger in his face as she had.

  Enya clenched her eyes shut in his gaze, wincing against tears, “I know.” Aurie saw the clenched swallow. “I know. But how can this ever be forgiven?”

  Draka jerked her again, still pressing against her forehead and baring his teeth at her.

  Enya opened her eyes to meet his and nodded so that both their heads moved, “I’m with you. I won’t falter. Vengeance is the Lord’s to give, not mine. I’m just angry. I just…”

  Aurie’s brows pressed together when Draka pulled back his forehead and wrapped his arms around her. Enya was crying. When Aurie looked to the others that had been with them, they were sitting with their heads in their hands, crying as well. And all she could do was stand there with the baby in her arms, stricken with awe as the strongest woman she had ever met was having trouble staying on her feet in the arms of the strongest man she had ever known, weeping.

  “Thank you,” Enya rubbed her nose on the wrist of her gauntlet when she finally pulled back from Draka’s embrace. Still sounding like her nose was stuffed, she said to a nearby Cleric, “No one but Paladinate goes in there until it is completely cleansed and reset for the refugees. Everyone must be baptized before entering. No exceptions. Not even royalty.”

  “Understood, Paladin Commander,” the Cleric put a fist to his chest.

  “It’s a miracle the child survived,” Enya had more tears flowing down her cheeks as she looked down at it in Aurie’s arms with a warm grin. “An uncorrupted offspring. God wants this one for something special. We’ll protect you with all our lives, little one. Believe you me, as this lady would tell you.”

  Aurie chuckled a little, a look of wonder aimed at Draka as he returned to her side. What are they going to do with such a young infant? Where will they find milk? Who will care for it while they fight?

  “We have deserters!” One of the knights called, making Draka raise a glare towards him. The knight kicked Balian, with his arms bound behind his back, to the ground in front of them. “Eight boys, including one of our trainees.”

  “Who?” Enya pressed between Aurie and Draka.

  Balian rolled to lift himself onto his knees. His face was already bloodied and bruised.

  “Samma Vorner,” Enya shook her head in disappointment.

  “What?” Senna sprinted. “What about Samma?”

  “Yes, he went with them,” Balian spat blood. “The Talkrois sons all went this morning. They’re long gone by now.”

  “Oh, no,” Aurie tucked her lips with a knowing look to Draka’s furrowed brow. “Where did they go, Balian? Tell us.”

  “Desertion is punishable by…” Enya began.

  “Death?” Aurie gasped at her.

  “Flogging and hard labor, depending on the reason,” Enya blinked at her. “We’re not monsters, Aurie.”

  Draka motioned to Balian for him to answer.

  Balian lifted his chin, beaming with pride. “They are going to Strasbourg to get help. We found the scout’s body last night, the boys volunteered. The Vorners, Greshons, Dalfur, Raphael, Bruce, and Hugo’s leading them through the caves to the Bastion.”

  “What were they thinking?” Aurie shrieked. “What were you thinking, letting them go and not stopping them or telling me?”

  “He didn’t even tell me,” Senna fell to the ground, her eyes in a haze. “He never said anything. Just kissed me and left. I thought he was training.”

  “They’re children!” Aurie growled, wishing she didn’t have a baby in her arms preventing her from kicking Balian in his proud face.

  “They’re men!” Balian roared back. “And they are doing what men do, what needs to be done to protect their families. They know the way that your soldiers don’t. Your messenger was killed. They’re getting the message through.”

  “God be with them,” Enya let out a long breath. “Let him go. He’s our lead fisherman. Get back to work.”

  Draka’s shoulders sank and he bit his lip.

  “I guess that means the battle tomorrow is off, then,” Aurie shook her head with flaring nostrils, rocking the baby and gritting her teeth at the same time.

  Enya and Draka met gazes.

  “No,” Enya said through gritted teeth, “It means we have to make it that much bigger to draw their reserves off them. And it means we’ve wasted too much time already.” She charged for the steps up to Qasim on the walls.

  “Wait, what does that mean?” Aurie was still rocking the baby.

  Draka turned to her with that look on his face, that look she always dreaded when she saw it, and she knew. His eyes fell to her armor and the sword sheathed on the belt at her side with a sad thoughtfulness, then back up to the baby in her arms. They rose to her face, where they hovered for a moment. His chest inflated with a deep breath at her.

  “He didn’t even say goodbye,” Senna was biting at her fingers, still on the cold muddy ground. “He just went while I was asleep. I don’t want him to be gone. I want him to come back home. I want my husband back.”

  Aurie felt herself straighten. She felt the same way as Senna. Only…she no longer had just a husband she wanted back.

  Draka twisted his head with a sideways tilt at her. She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Senna,” Aurie kept her eyes on Draka as she held the infant out to her, “Take the baby and find a mother who is still breastfeeding. See if she can spare milk for it. Then, when they let Maud out, tell her that this is another ward of the King and that she is to take care of it until we return.”

  Draka raised a brow at her. His hands went to his hips like she had to him so many times before.

  “I’m not having the man I love be brought to me on a wagon ever again,” Aurie stepped into him, “I’m going with you. If you fight, I fight.”

  He turned from her, waving his hand and shaking his head.

  Aurie crossed in front of him, “Then you don’t fight this one and send them to! But if you go, I go! I’m not living through that again, Draka.”

  He regarded her for a moment. Then he nodded. Aurie wasn’t sure which he agreed to. Not fighting? Or her coming with him? She blinked after him as he followed after Enya.

  “I wish I could have said that to Samma,” Senna said, cradling the baby to her chest beside her. “I hope he makes it home. I love him.”

  Aurie turned to find Senna looking almost confused by her own words.

  “Just concentrate on what you have to do to make sure he has one to come back to,” Aurie grinned affectionately. “That’s what a soldier’s wife does, no matter how long it takes, or how hard it becomes. We wait. And hope.”

  She found herself looking at her boots sunken into the mud. Soldier, the word echoed in her head. She was one of them, now, not the wife left behind with the children.

  She drew in a breath as she said, “And pray.”