A chi dici il tuo segreto, doni la tua liberta.
Do not put a sword into your enemy’s hands.
Ivini marched a sheepish Kaleb through the ranks of soldiers.
“Hello there, Finestra,” Kaleb called up with a cheery wave. “This chap just can’t let it go. Made them open the gates and everything, but I want it noted in every history book that I told him it is a banishable offense. More than once. He’s not the best listener.”
Ivini’s eyes flashed from below. “She brought the creature to stand beside her. I was right all along.”
“And I was right about you,” Alessa shot back. “So determined to win at all costs that you’ve thrown away your chance to be sheltered. They’re coming, Padre Ivini. If you aren’t ready to fight, I hope you’re ready to die.”
Ivini glanced back at the troops. “I had to warn the armies. A ghiotte on the peak? Unacceptable.”
“Are you volunteering to take his place?” she asked. “We do have the best view.”
Kaleb pulled himself up onto a nearby armory wagon, stocked with extra weaponry for anyone who lost theirs in the chaos.
After a prolonged rummaging, Kaleb pulled out a broadsword, then, with a laugh, a fencing foil.
He pulled the cork from its tip and tossed it at Ivini’s feet. “They locked up behind you, Padre. Better grab a weapon or find a house to shelter in. If anyone will let you in, that is. You weren’t a big fan of harboring others, though, were you?”
Ivini began yelling at the soldiers, demanding they climb the peak and drag Dante off, but Alessa strode to the edge. It was time to see where their loyalties truly lay.
“Is this the line? Have we reached it yet?” She spoke to the army. “Will you make us weaker so you can kill a man—a ghiotte, but still a man—who came, willingly, to fight for Saverio, even though he wasn’t required to? Will you risk your friends and families by striking down a warrior blessed with healing abilities, who climbed the peak today to protect your Finestra and Fontes?”
They stared at her, uncertain.
“Why are we here, if not to fight? Why are we fighting, if not to live? Dante can fight. He’s hard to kill. I chose him to be my guard, and he’s here to protect me. I ask you now—will you fight me? Because I won’t let you take him. Not again.”
A clang of metal made her flinch. Captain Papatonis, scowling ominously, struck his chest with the flat of his sword, then took a knee.
For a breathless minute, Alessa thought he would be the only one, then a handful of soldiers echoed the movement, more and more, until nearly every metal-clad warrior bowed their heads in salute. Behind them, the ragged militia in their makeshift armor and helmets raised fists in solidarity, and if their roar of approval was a bit too fierce with pride at seeing a fellow outcast standing before the thousands of elite soldiers, she didn’t begrudge them.
Padre Ivini blanched, realizing he’d made a terrible mistake.
Alessa smiled grimly at her soldiers. “Today, we fight together.”
The soldiers rose to stand at attention, a rolling wave of silver up the hillside. Trebuchets and archers stood at the ready, swords and scythes were drawn, and everyone looked to the enemy in the sky.