A moment later he stood, his boots firmly planted on the cold stone floor of Baudali’s dungeon, facing a surprised Baudali.
He saw the look in his beloved’s eyes and frowned, uncertain of what she would think.
“I am impressed,” Baudali said.
“Let the woman go. She has no part in this,” Hunter spat at him.
“Ah, but she does have a part in this. A very big part…and oh my, it is time!”
Hunter realized too late as he reached out to stop Baudali, but the wizard had taken Exerilla in a cloud of dark smoke and vanished.
* * *
Eight miles south of Brussels, at noon on June 18th, 1815, Napoleon stood with his arm across his chest and his hand within his coat at his chest.
With his tent at his back, and his generals around him, he contemplated the future as he made ready to give the order.
He knew two large forces would face him under Wellington and Blucher, not far from his beloved France.
That was the crux of it all. He could not allow them to invade France. His latest missive had informed him that if he did not withdraw, these countries would unite and take him on in his own dear lands. He could not withdraw.
He had to strike now; he had to strike with his accumulated strength. He had to hit the coalition and reduce their numbers. He had to show them what it was to face a man such as himself! He had delayed giving battle until this moment, he had wanted the ground to dry.
With some apprehension, he gave the orders to meet Wellington’s army positioned across the Brussels road on the Mont-Saint-Jean escarpment. And the battle of Waterloo moved into full swing!
A shock wave went through him, as he realized that the Prussians had arrived and that their numbers were to be reckoned with.
It didn’t take long before word got through to him that the Anglo-allied army’s counter attack had driven the French into disorder. Skirmishes had turned into a blood bath in the field.
* * *
Young Ferrell MacTorry looked around as he used both magic and his sword to slay the enemy and save his comrades. He knew what was coming. Although he had no memory of it, he knew because his brother had readied him.
He had already exposed the traitor on Wellington’s staff, thanks to his brother’s information and the scoundrel had been arrested.
He knew he could not allow himself to be killed, if for no other reason, than Hunter would not, could not accept it again. He had to find a way to stop the Dark Wizard. He had to be alert.
He watched for a sign of Baudali, but as time went by he became engrossed in the battle, keeping his troop safe, though he silently mourned for the young French faces he put to earth.
This is not what he wanted. If he survived this, he would give up soldiering, and then, all at once he saw Baudali and frowned as his heart pounded in his chest.
Baudali had a young, beautiful woman in his grasp, and he held a dagger to her neck, all the while grinning!
~ Chapter Five ~
HUNTER SAW BAUDALI vanish with Exerilla and cursed up a storm before he got control of himself and shifted with his immortal magic. He knew where Baudali was going, to the battlefield, to his brother. He used the portal he had constructed and entered the battlefield himself.
Men were colliding, clashing, riding, being shot off their horses only to jump up and fight with whatever weapons were left to them.
Blood covered the earth.
So many young boys lying with blood soaked uniforms and glassy stares. He looked away from the horror only to find another and it struck him to the core.
He saw his brother standing very still as Baudali held a dagger to Exerilla’s neck. He knew this was the moment; and he would have to be very careful.
Baudali was unconcerned with the battle raging around them. They were insulated from it by a dark mist. They stood, his brother beside him, only a few feet away, facing the Dark Wizard’s wicked face.
“Exerilla, m’love, I am sorry. I had no idea he knew about ye, would draw ye into this.”