Free The Other Side of Heaven by Morgan O'Neill

directing it over the remains of the priest and away from the chaos.
    Looking forward to the feast Sweet Willa had planned, his mouth watered as he took the lead and passed beneath the city gates.

Chapter 6
    Alberto’s dark eyes compelled Gwen, called to her, sought to pierce her soul, and she wanted to respond, but her leaden arms refused to move. The beautiful eyes grew harsh and withdrew suddenly, as screams, sounds of terror and anguish, filled her mind.
    Gwen shifted on her bed, seeing Alberto and his men slashing at Ugly and his gang. She started and then opened her eyes wide, glad to be rid of the nightmare.
    But the sounds of battle continued. What––? Adelaide. Pavia. Gwen scrambled to her feet, scared, groggy, and off-balance. This was no dream. Something was happening right now. And very close by.
    Listening intently, she heard metal clashing against metal. She pulled on her cowl. Shrieks, like those she’d heard from the dying thugs, sent shivers down her spine. Gwen yanked open the door and started running.
    In the cloister, women, children, and clergy darted in every direction, but mostly away from the doors leading to the square. One grotesque figure, a man, nearly naked and lugging heavy chains, hobbled past Gwen, sobbing incoherently. She rushed on, determined to confront whoever was outside.
    At the archway, Gwen stopped short and stared. Warriors on horseback filled the town square. Many bodies were lying on the ground; horses, held in check by their riders, pranced nervously in the blood, their hooves and hocks spattered red.
    Alberto? No, she thought, relieved, he’s not part of this . These killers had griffin crests instead of greyhounds.
    Then she saw the queen on a horse, struggling with a warrior holding her, her dress covered with blood.
    “Let her go!” Gwen yelled, running toward them.
    A tiny, shrill voice pierced the din. “Mama! Let go of my mama!”
    Gwen halted and twisted back, stunned to see Emma standing in the middle of chaos, all alone, weeping, her arms held out for her mother.
    Adelaide shrieked, “Emma! No! Run!”
    Suddenly, Berta appeared and started toward the child, but when she saw the carnage, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed.
    “Monk, save my daughter!” Adelaide screamed, but Gwen was already moving.
    A galloping horseman bore down on Emma. On sheer nerve, Gwen darted in front of the charger and grabbed the reins. As the horse spun and careened, she was lifted off her feet, and all three crashed to the ground.
    Gwen barely had time to roll away from the thrashing hooves. The horse lunged to its feet and thundered back toward the square. Struggling to her knees, seeing stars, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then focused on the warrior, who wasn’t moving.
    Adelaide cried out, and Gwen looked up just as the queen’s abductor booted his mount toward the gate.
    Suddenly, Gwen caught a glimpse of another captive on horseback, a blond man – Stefano!
    Before she could react, the warrior groaned and shifted, bumping into her. Gwen scrambled to her feet and yanked the sword from his hand. She staggered – it weighed a ton. Straining hard, she lifted the sword and swung, hitting his helmet with the flat of the blade. The impact jarred her arms, sending spasms across her shoulders, the blade slipping from her grip. To her relief, he went limp, knocked out cold.
    Gwen glanced toward the gate. Stefano and the queen were gone, but soldiers continued to rampage in the square. She turned back. Whimpering, little Emma had backed into the shadows of an alleyway.
    She bolted toward the child, grasped her around the waist, and ran. Gwen’s arms were weak, still tingling, making it nearly impossible to hold on as Emma yelled, scratched, and thrashed.
    She shifted her grip to entrap the child’s flailing arms. “Be quiet, Emma,” she hissed. “Did you hear your mother? She told me to keep you safe. The bad men will get us if you yell.”
    Eyes wide with