Please, Horned God and Lady of the Spring, don’t let me have started something that’s going to get a lot of people killed. Especially not Bern.
She reminded herself that he was a competent professional soldier. He had a good strategy. He had trained subordinates. He had explosives. He was going to win the day.
The plan for the TTP team was that after the battle was joined, and the good guys were winning, they’d withdraw and join Ginger in the woods. With their obligation to help the people fulfilled, the team could then continue their search for a working nexus that would take them home.
Home. Away from Bern. She dashed away tears. It had to be. If she went home with a broken heart and a deep ache for the way he made her body sing, she still had the memories to appreciate. At least they’d spent as much time as they could over the last three days making love while waiting for the Saxons. And now the Saxons were here.
Ginger paced nervously. What if it didn’t work? Was there something she could do to help?
She hated the quiet here in the woods. Maybe she was safer here, but the sudden need to know what was going on got the better of her. She cut through the woods rather than take the path that led toward the villa.
The perfect spring weather of the festival had been replaced by a pewter sky that threatened rain, and a wind that blew cooler than it should for this time of year. It was a grim day, fit for a battle, she supposed.
When she reached the south edge of the woods she got a good view down the valley to the hill beyond. Half of the British fighters were spread out below the hill, waiting there instead of occupying the high ground. She caught sight of chainmail and swordblades as gray as the day and the energy—a mixture of fear and anticipation—hit her like a blow. She put herself behind a tree and waited, and watched.
The atmosphere grew even more tense. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Soon a large band of Saxon warriors appeared on the crest of the hill. They saw the Britons waiting for them and drew to a halt. More of the invaders came up behind them, and more, until there was an army of several hundred fierce barbarians looking down upon the several dozen not-quite-so-fierce barbarians below. The Saxons formed into a long line that stretched out along the top of the hill, but since they held the high ground they didn’t seem to be in any hurry to rush the people below.
Which was what Bern had counted on.
A line of claymore mines had been set right where the Saxons were now standing. When the mines went off there was indeed fire bursting up toward the sky. And screaming, and blood, and flying body parts.
What was left of the Saxon invaders turned to flee, but that could not be allowed. Bern’s team and the other half of the British force came out of hiding in the woods on the far side of the hill and drove the remainder of the Saxons down the hill onto the swords of those waiting for them.
The reality was so much worse than her vision, but she never doubted the necessity of this battle. Ginger watched the carnage long enough to be assured that everything was going to turn out as planned. There would be a victory here today at Camlan Hill. Legend would speak of magic making the very soil of Britain gape wide to send the enemy to the fires of hell.
Only witnessing it upset her more than she realized, because she got lost in the thick woods making her way back to the spring. By the time she found her way to the rendezvous point it had started to rain. Bern and the team were waiting for her. They’d brought horses with them.
“You scared me half mad, woman!” Bern stopped pacing and pulled her roughly to him by the elbows. “Where have you been?”
She was so happy to see him that she kissed him. She began to cry with relief, and was glad to have the rain to cover this excess of emotion.
Except she knew it didn’t work when he kissed her cheeks and said, “You taste salty.”
“And you smell sweaty,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.”
He kept his arms around her when she would have gone for her pack. “But where do we go from here?” He glanced toward Percy.
The subject had been under discussion for days. The problem with this area was an overabundance of sites where energy concentrated. Ginger had stayed out of it, because she didn’t want to be dismissed out of hand as a total loon. Now she had to speak up. She had the answer they needed.
“We need to go to the Isle of Apples,” she told them.
“Where’s that?” Bern asked.
Gareth laughed. “So, I’m not the only one who’s seen the parallels.”
Kaye nodded thoughtfully.
Maybe she should have spoken up sooner.