ASH
“Get him ready for the Regent,” barks one of the senior officers.
The guards move the wagon carrying my cage closer to the command tent, dragging me out by the bindings around my wrists, and tether me to the rear of the wagon like a pack animal in a train. There’s only thirty yards or so now separating me from Del, Mish and the others. I have to get them out of here. But first I have to get their attention without drawing the ire of the Rangers that watch them like hawks.
The air shimmers with the last heat of the day, so that the figures in the distance waver like they’re made of water. As they return from what I now know is to become the battlefield, Iddo’s chariot draws close to a black-robed figure riding a donkey. It can only be Zostar. They appear to be talking. Iddo points an accusatory arm, then pulls back the reins, wheeling the horses and his chariot around.
Did he speak to his brother, out there? Knowing Nisai, he would have parleyed. He’d want to exhaust every possibility to prevent bloodshed.
I crane my neck to follow the elder Kaidon son’s path, straining against my bindings until the ropes cut into my flesh.
Iddo drives his chariot back towards the command tent, riding directly before the first lines of infantry that are now fully in place. The vanguard is made up of mercenaries and conscripts, grist that he can afford to be crushed. I’d expect the trained section of his army – the palace guards, Rangers, household contingents from the Trelian river lords that came to the so-called Regent’s aid will attack from the side, outflanking and harrowing the opposing army even as they break through the first lines. Judging by the landscape up ahead, they’re determined to push Nisai’s forces up against the towers of rock and bubbling pools, using the terrain as an additional weapon.
Iddo shouts something to his officers, but he’s too far away, I can’t quite make out the words. And I can’t delay just to hear them. I’ve got higher priorities.
Behind the vanguard ranks, Zostar raises his hand, and one of the smaller figures steps forward. I don’t recognize them, but it’s clear she’s one of the young ones from beneath the Mountain, around Del’s age. My fingers twitch, ready to reach for the twin swords that were once almost an extension of my body. But my hands are tied in all manner of the word. I no longer have anything to stop whatever is about to happen to the poor wretch.
For a few heartbeats, nothing happens.
Then I see it.
Shadow, emanating from the hands and arms of the girl. It’s amorphous, like the blackest smoke. Coils seep into the air towards the frontline of soldiers. Searching. Seeking.
A chill snakes up by spine, lifting the hairs on my neck. This is no self-defense response. It’s like the girl has control of the shadow. The chill I’d felt now seems like the back of my neck is being gripped by the hand of a dead man.
Then it’s clear where they’re destined.
My jaw clenches tight against the desire to cry out a warning. I can’t draw attention to being tied here, if I want to find a moment to escape. And is a warning even deserved?
As if sensing the shadow’s approach, Iddo’s horse skitters to the side.
He shortens the reins, continuing to orate to his troops, unaware of what is roiling towards his back. Then the shadow has closed the gap, shrouding the figure of the Second Prince. Some of the soldiers must see it now, the way they jostle back into the line of their comrades behind them, trying to retreat.
Iddo’s broad back stiffens. His mount rakes the ground with its hooves, straining at its traces. This time, he doesn’t rein it in. Then the horse’s scream echoes out across the battlefield. It rears. The Commander of the Imperial Rangers, now self-appointed Regent of the Empire, topples from his chariot.
I expect him to roll, to slowly haul himself to his feet. One, three, five heartbeats pass and the crumpled form on the ground doesn’t move. I’d think I was hallucinating again. But deep down, viscerally, I know what I see is true.
Iddo Kaidon is dead.
And it seems to give nobody pause but me. Zostar reaches the ranks. The Blazers riding with him nod, one raising a signal.
Forward march.
The battle begins.
And even after all I’ve been through, all I’ve seen, I can’t quite believe it has come to this.
My thoughts are interrupted by someone stepping up behind me. I’d drop into a stance ready to fight or flee, for all the use it would be given my bindings.
“That deal ended as well as a rusty nail through the tenders.”
The voice is familiar. “Sal?”
“Here,” she says, holding out a knife, motioning me to present my hands so she can cut through my bonds.
“But it was you.” I accuse as she slices the ropes. “You were happy to sell me out.”
“I was.”
“What’s changed?”
She glances towards the edge of the battlefield, where Iddo’s lifeless form has been dragged unceremoniously in the dust so that it isn’t trampled under the feet of his own soldiers. What an ending for an Imperial Prince. I still can’t come to terms with that actually being his body.
Sal shrugs. “My buyer is dead. All deals are off.”
“Here I was thinking you’d had a crisis of conscience.”
“Not likely. Got something for you, though. A peace offering.” She holds out a prayer braid. Judging by the five scents that waft towards me, it’s been freshly infused. I let her tie it around my upper arm.
“I thought you didn’t believe.”
“I don’t. But you do. And I’d bet more than the price of a prayer braid that whatever you’re planning, you’re going to need to back yourself fully.”
I’m not sure if I should be thanking her or cursing her for selling me out in the first place. She doesn’t wait for my response before slipping back through the wagons. It appears, when it comes down to it, that Sal doesn’t have the stomach for war.
I want no part in it, either. I intend to do what I came to do, and get out of here.
Keeping the wagons between me and the frontline, I creep closer to where Zostar has lined up his charges.
“Del,” I hiss.
He doesn’t turn.
“Del!”
My only reward is a guard glancing warily in my direction. I’m still in cover, and my call among all the other murmuring isn’t enough to have him stray from his post. Still, I’m not about to try that again.
I’m still trying to think of a strategy when Zostar returns. He speaks with the guards, but I can’t grasp the words. Then he turns back to the front, his men herding Del and the others after him.
I follow.