They trained harder than they ever had before. Jasper taught Alise how to use his bow, and Edward taught Isabella how to throw daggers. They each tried the mancatcher, and Esme even suggested she’d have one made for herself. If they didn't know what they were facing, they had to be prepared for anything.
They trained day and evening until the sun went down. They ate, rested, and went back at it the next morning. Isabella and Edward didn't even have time to be together as they used to, and they were both growing restless because of it. They wanted to be intimate now that they’d finally been mated, but it wasn't happening.
Edward was determined he was going to get his chance with Isabella if it was the last thing he did. First thing in the morning, she typically dressed and headed out for breakfast in the great hall before training began. He had to make his move before that time; he didn't care if it was too early for anything other than sleeping. He was going to burst if he didn't manage to get inside his wife.
Before the sun even showed its first rays over the horizon, Edward ran his hands through her silky hair and pushed it off her shoulder. She didn't stir. He kissed her upper back, loving that she’d agreed to sleep in the nude when he suggested it. Roaming hands led him to her breasts, and she finally squirmed when he rolled her nipples between his fingers, her hips undulating in automatic response. Edward moved his touches farther south, allowing himself to find the spot which made her call out his name. Isabella moaned quietly, and he silently cheered.
“Mm, what are you up to this morning?”
Edward grinned against her shoulder. “Seducing my mate, I hope.”
She pushed her bottom against his erection, and then he was the one to moan. “I like the sound of that.”
Edward kissed his way across her skin, leaving a wet trail along her shoulder blades. He moved to nibble on her ear, sighing into it when she reached behind her to touch him. “Please,” he hissed.
She stroked up and down his length a few times until Edward shifted, wrapping his arms around her body to pluck at both her nipples. She cried out, writhing when he added his mouth to the side of her neck. When one hand snuck down to find her wetness, she shuddered and moaned his name.
“Such a needy girl.”
Isabella clutched at his arms when the waves of her release came over her. Edward rolled her under him and slammed into her, unable to wait another second to be sheathed in her wet heat.
“Oh! Oh gods.” She looked up into his eyes, watching the shade of green deepen as he looked back at her.
“Not going to last, not going to last.”
It had been too long, and he was too inexperienced, for him to hold out. He pressed his hips to hers and barely managed to catch himself from collapsing on top of her.
“I needed that.”
Content, sated, fulfilled, she ran her hands down his back. “We both needed it. It’s hard to be so involved in the impending war that we don't have the chance to connect.”
“Combat training is taking a toll on all of us.”
“I agree.”
He kissed her and pulled away to rise for the day. He knew Peder would be there soon with their morning baths.
After that, their day was a mirror image of the ones to precede it. Isabella’s aim was getting better with the daggers, Alise was hitting the target more often with Jasper’s longbow, and Rosalie was making an effort to practice with several different weapons.
Edward already showed proficiency with his mace. The attendants had begun stuffing cloth sacks with straw to use as heads on top of the dummies; otherwise, Edward and Emmett destroyed them too often to replace quickly. Edward was contemplating having a mace made similar to Emmett’s, which was fashioned with spikes over the surface of the bludgeoning end. Garrett and Carlisle both used battle-axes, and Edward was proud of his brother for keeping his own with the fearsome Demon-Hide.
Every evening after training, the attendants would take the weapons and have them cleaned and sharpened. The entirety of the household was busier than usual while the warriors prepared for what was to come.
The only thing Edward wasn't sure of was what was actually coming. He was under the impression they would soon ride out and confront The Forsaken, but he wasn't even sure if it was true. They had yet to sit down for another war council to discuss their course of action. It was merely time to be on guard and to be as ready as possible.
When they finally gathered for the last meal of the day, Isabella dropped onto the bench between her husband and her sister. “Alise, have you news?”
Alise had been searching the scrolls when not training in an effort to find answers. She was uniquely qualified, as she could foresee the end results of any true prophecy. When she read the Prophecy of the First Blood, she saw the True-Sworn with the Ember Sword far into the future. It was the only semblance of an answer they could rely on for the time being; a small comfort.
“I haven't found anything I haven't seen before, no.”
“That’s disappointing,” Isabella murmured. She’d already suggested to her mother that they all gather, every member of the royal family and that of the guard, to make a plan of action. The anticipation was agony.
“Before we begin eating,” Esme’s voice rang out, “I have taken Isabella’s advice on having a war council. It will immediately follow the meal, and I want each of my princesses, their high paladins, the archwarriors and their warriors, the mercenaries and their ensigns, and the sentinels to attend.”
There was a chorus of “Aye, your highness,” echoing throughout the room.
“I am relieved,” Edward said to his wife. “I don’t like not knowing what we’re making ready for, Isabella.”
“I know. We will hash it out together tonight.”
Everyone seemed to eat quickly, as if they followed an unspoken rule. When they were finished and the tables were being cleared, the majority of the inhabitants of the citadel made their way to the war room.
The chieftess stood near the map in the center of the room. She waited with Carlisle as everyone filed in, filling in the spaces and shifting around to ensure everyone would fit and they could still close the door behind them. They weren't accustomed to having twenty-five people in the room, despite its size.
“I have called you all here to discuss our next move,” Esme began. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Katrina spoke first. “Isabella had the idea to train women from the village as sentinels.”
Esme nodded. “All right. Anyone else have an idea or a question?”
“Are we going to wait for an attack, or are we going to be on the offensive?”
“I haven't decided yet, Edward.” Esme looked around the room. “I think we should consider both. What are the benefits of forcing The Forsaken to come to us, versus going to them and provoking a confrontation?”
“If we remain here, they have to go through Winter Forest.”
Esme nodded at Jasper. “Though we have Rosalie’s magic, it would be beneficial if they went through and faced the Wandering Nightmares rather than us.”
“But if we remain here, we have no way of knowing when they will come,” Isabella pointed out.
“It’s true,” Emmett said. “And yet, it gives us more time to train.”
“Who among us isn’t ready for the fight to come?” Isabella demanded, silently daring him to name her husband.
Emmett cleared his throat. “We could all use more practice.”
Garrett shifted his feet before speaking up. “I’m not itching for a fight, but waiting every day for something to happen is bad for morale.”
A few people murmured their agreement.
“So the consensus is to move out?” Carlisle asked the room at large.
“I believe that’s what most of us think, Father,” Alise replied.
“Then we need to discuss what type of fighters The Forsaken are.” Esme held up her hand at the outburst of noise. “As far as we know, that is.”
“The issue which remains is not truly knowing anything about them.” Magwyn looked as though she regretted opening her mouth. Her mate, Irina, encouraged her to continue. “It is one thing for those of us who do not leave the citadel. For us, it does not entirely matter what sort of fighters they are.” Her eyes watered as she looked at Irina. “But if you all go to their front door with no solid intelligence, you ask for death.”
Tanja stepped forward. “I understand you believe my attendant to be rogue. I propose asking him to find information for us, as a test. What he tells us now will either come to fruition or prove him a traitor.”
“You have spoken nothing of our plans?” Esme confirmed.
Tanja shook her head. “I have kept my mouth closed, highness. If he is on the wrong side of this, I will execute him myself.”
“And what if he tells us there are ten of them and they are weak fighters?” Rosalie demanded. “How do we prepare ourselves against lies?”
“We know better than that,” Esme countered. “Rumors from merchants tell us there are at least eleven that fight outside their castle and seven that remain. We have nineteen to fight and six to remain.”
“We could use more sentinels, highness,” Renee said.
“I agree.” Esme smiled at Renee. “Would the six of you agree to find and train whichever women are willing? Both from Stormcoast and Stagbreak?”
“Aye,” Renee replied with a nod. “I will see to it, chieftess.”
“We start there,” Esme announced. “Report back to me the number of women who agree. Make it clear what the circumstances are.” They all knew the seriousness of the situation without needing to say it out loud. Anyone who agreed to defend the citadel faced the very real possibility of dying.
“Of course, your highness,” Renee said with a bow.
“That will be all. You need your sleep. We will reconvene tomorrow at the same time.”
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