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The Sithistrans split into two groups and raced around the fallen rider. Swords drawn, they neared Laurent.

My heart lodged in my throat as my feet flew over the ground.

Laurent flung out his hands. “Eshto!”

One rider dropped.

The rest kept coming.

With a bellow, I hefted my sword and launched myself at the rider closest to Laurent. As I flew through the air, I brought my blade down and caught the Sithistran in the neck. Blood sprayed across my face. The rider reeled in the air with me, and then we fell. Just before I hit the ground, I tucked my head. Scrubby grass reared up, and I rolled as I struck, tumbling and jumping to my feet in a practiced movement.

“Eshto!” Laurent shouted, killing another rider. My knights clashed with the others, slashing at their horses’ legs. Something struck me from behind.

I grunted and pitched forward, my ears ringing. Reflex kicked in, and I spun, swinging my sword as I went. Steel clanged, and pain shot up my arm as a blade blocked my blow. With a grunt, I knocked the enemy sword away and swung again. A Green Guard’s blue eyes glared at me inside his visor as he parried.

“Time to die, asshole.”

“For you, dick face,” I agreed. We fought, swords clashing. He was good, but I was better. When he feinted and tried to spin into a killing blow, I stepped into him. His blade found a gap in my armor and bit into my ribs, but I was too close for him to have much leverage. As his eyes widened, I head-butted him. He stumbled back, and I shoved my sword into his stomach.

Chest heaving, I swung around, searching for Laurent. The ground was littered with Sithistrans. Knights from the Wastes fought stragglers in single combat, their swords flashing in the moonlight.

“AMET,” Laurent shouted behind me.

I yanked my sword from the Green Guard’s gut and spun. Laurent stood over Crasor, who was sprawled on his back with his robes tangled around his legs. The Prelate’s face was red and turning purple, his eyes bulging with terror. His mouth hung open, and drool slid down his cheek. His body twitched, his fingers curling into claws.

Laurent’s face was a mask of icy fury. “Choke on your own bigotry,” he told the suffocating man.

One of Crasor’s eyes popped from its socket. It spilled down his cheek, dangling from a string of pink flesh. The smell of human excrement reached me as he lost control of his bowels.

“Die,” Laurent told him. “And when you meet your god, beg for his forgiveness.” Laurent bared his fangs. “I hope he’s more merciful than you were.”

The terror in Crasor’s gaze intensified. Then he went still.

Laurent swayed on his feet. I rushed forward, intent on getting to him before he fell. Something brushed my side.

A Sithistran Green Guard streaked around me, his sword plunging toward Laurent.

“NO!” I cried. A flash of brown cloak, and then Rhys the Fair appeared out of nowhere. He stepped in front of Laurent and blocked the blow. For a second, he stood toe to toe with the Guard, then he whipped his other hand up and thrust a dagger into the Green Guard’s side. The Guard collapsed in a heap, his sword falling from his hand.

Laurent stumbled back and lifted wide eyes to Rhys. “Thank you.”

The Chieftain of Wesyfedd bent and wiped his dagger on the Green Guard’s cloak. He straightened, a smile pulling at his lips. “No problem, Your Grace, but now you’ll owe me—” His voice cut off abruptly.

An arrow stuck out from the side of his neck. For a second, he just stood there, a bewildered look on his face. “I think I’ve been hit,” he said quietly, then he crashed to the ground.

Elissa stood a distance away, a bow in her hands. Her mouth trembled, and tears streaked her pale cheeks.

An anguished cry split the air. Across the field, Igrith watched Elissa from atop a horse. She let out another cry and kicked her heels against the beast’s sides.

Elissa dropped the bow. She gathered her black skirts and ran.

As fast as a vampire, Igrith drew an arrow and fired. It struck Elissa between the shoulder blades, sending her stumbling forward. She fell on her face in a flurry of black skirts, her arms stretched in front of her.

Igrith fired again, hitting her in the shoulder. Elissa screamed and writhed on the ground. The earth shook as Igrith thundered to her, slipping from the saddle before the horse came to a halt. She strode to Elissa and kicked her onto her back.

Rolund’s First Queen screamed again as the arrow in her back snapped, the tip no doubt sinking deeper. Blood bubbled on her lips as she tried to rise. “You fucking Wesyfeddan bitch!” she screamed up at Igrith. “I’m the Queen of Sithistra. You can’t kill me!”

Igrith’s eyes burned with contempt. “I already have.” In one smooth movement, she whipped an arrow from her quiver, knelt, and plunged it into Elissa’s throat. She struck in the same spot Elissa had struck Rhys.