At first light a day later, Elle Barros rode her horse along the Kingroad just outside of Lidran, surrounded by a full company of Sagmynan and Iraean Legionmen—all Ire Legionmen, she supposed. It was still odd to her that these men, and so many others, owed their loyalty to Emrael. To think that less than a year earlier, she and Emrael had been riding this very stretch of road together. Emrael injured and delirious, Yamara on the brink of death after being captured by Corlas, Darmon Corrande, and a squad of Watchers.
She cleared her sleep-deprived mind of memories and focused on the task at hand as Lidran’s walls emerged from the morning fog. They approached the gate just as it was being opened at sunrise. The sergeant in charge of the squad guarding the gate took one look at one hundred armed men not in Barros grey, and immediately began shouting for the gates to be closed. Within moments, the alarm bell above the gate rang loudly and Barros Legionmen with crossbows ran to take positions on the ramparts. They no doubt thought that Emrael had come to raid the city, though a single company would never ride straight for the gates like this if they meant to attack.
Elle continued ahead of the company of Iraeans as they called for a halt. She walked her horse slowly toward the gate and waved a white cloth over her head. Thankfully, no crossbow bolts or arrows flew her way, and as she reached the gate, the sergeant in charge drew a small side door open.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “Don’t come any closer.”
Elle stopped. “I am Arielle Barros, Sergeant. I would like an audience with whoever commands my father’s garrison here in Lidran.”
The sergeant paused. “That would be Lord Holder Gerlan, Lady. I can send a messenger,” he said doubtfully, obviously unsure what to do with a strange woman riding up to the gates with a full company of armed men, claiming to be the daughter of the governor.
“Be quick about it, Sergeant. Tell the Lord Holder that Arielle Barros has been refused entry to the city.”
The Legionman’s eyes widened. “Ah … you’re welcome to enter, but your men will have to wait outside. No armed men that ain’t Barros Legion, by order of the Lord Holder.”
She shrugged. “I’ll bring five men with me, a mere honor guard. They will leave their weapons with you, Sergeant, so you won’t be disobeying any orders.”
The Legionman hesitated again, clearly uncomfortable but pacified by the offer to leave their weapons. Elle took his hesitation as being close enough to acceptance and turned to shout for the four Imperators and the Captain Third of the Ire Legion company to accompany her. In short order, they turned over their weapons and rode with her to the Legion compound while the rest of their men made camp in the forest outside the city.
When they arrived at the compound, Elle was met by a man in armor adorned with the two riveted steel shoulder straps of a Captain Second. Two full squads of Legionmen stood behind him, ten of them with loaded crossbows. They clearly did not trust Elle and her companions. Considering Emrael’s attacks months earlier and the political instability undoubtedly rife in the province after her father’s death, she couldn’t blame them.
Belatedly, she realized that the Captain Second was none other than Prilan, the man who had been tasked with seeing them to the capital earlier in the year.
“Prilan,” she greeted him warmly, ignoring the armed men behind him. “A Captain Second, so soon?”
Prilan flashed his handsome smile—he seemed to be in a much better humor than when she had last seen him. To be fair, he had been caught up in quite the fiasco, attacked by soulbound and then effectively taken prisoner by the very prisoners with whom he had been charged.
“My Lady Arielle,” Prilan said with a bow. “I was sorry to hear about your father.”
A pit formed in Elle’s stomach, but she kept a neutral expression on her face. “I was too. What can you tell me about how he died? My sister’s letter was sent urgently but said only that he was attacked.”
Prilan’s eyes hardened. “Yes. We know only that he was attacked in his own palace. Most think it was the doing of the southern Lords Holder, as his death coincided perfectly with their march on Ridgetop and Naeran. I myself think that the Ire bastard and his Ordenan ilk are more likely to be responsible.”
Elle’s smile quirked into a frown. “Captain Prilan,” she admonished gently. “Whatever else can be said of him, I am quite sure that Emrael did not kill my father. I will find the truth, but I’ll need your help to see it done.”
Prilan’s smile this time was tight-lipped, but he gave her another bow. “Right this way, my lady. Your men can wait in the entry room, I’ll take you to the Lord Holder. Your father tasked him with overseeing operations here in Lidran after his nephew, Captain First Luere Gerlan, was murdered. Reports say that Emrael Ire himself took part in the murder, with an Ordenan accomplice.”
“And if that’s true, we will ensure that Lord Ire pays a price for that injustice, and for his intrusions on Barros lands. But it cannot preclude an alliance with him, and even the Ordenans. We have a greater enemy, for now. You know that as well as anyone, Prilan. You’ve seen them.”
Prilan nodded thoughtfully as they walked the halls of the command building where the Lord Holder had his office. “You may be right, but it won’t be easy. Not for me, and especially not for the Lord Holder. Good luck.”
He stopped next to a large set of arced wooden double doors and knocked politely.
“Come in,” a scratchy but deep, strong voice boomed.
Prilan opened and held a door for her while she swept into a room that smelled of dust and old leather. The gleaming wooden shelves that covered every wall were stuffed full with books. More books littered the two sofas and various side tables in the room.
An old man with a large, strong frame that had once likely held considerable muscle but was now mostly sinew sat in a leather-upholstered chair behind the large desk near the window at the far side of the room.
“What do you want?” he rasped.
Elle strode to one of the chairs on the opposite side of the Lord Holder’s desk and sat without waiting for an invitation. “What I want, Lord Gerlan, is for you to do your duty.”
The old Lord Holder looked up at her over the paper he had been reading through heavy spectacles, forehead wrinkled and eyes wide with astonishment.
“Excuse me?”
“I want you,” Elle said loudly and slowly, clearly pretending to be talking to an invalid, “to do your duty. If my father is dead, your duty is to see his heir assume his place as governor. Has my sister declared herself Governor of Barros?”
Lord Holder Gerlan growled in anger. “I ought to have you arrested, colluding with the bastard that killed my nephew, invaded my lands, killed our people. Listen here—”
“No,” Elle cut in firmly with a toss of her head. “I’m done listening. All of that is regrettable, and will be reckoned with. But it does not change the path we must take. Has my sister assumed the Governorship?”
He grunted. “No.”
Elle stared into his watery blue eyes. “Then I must assume that I am my father’s only remaining capable heir. Your allegiance, and that of the Legionmen left here with you, is owed to me.”
He stared at her for a long while. The room was silent save for the ticking of a clock and the quiet rasp of Lord Holder Gerlan’s breathing.
“Did you know,” he rumbled, “that the southern bastards besieging Naeran have allied with Emrael Ire?”
Elle’s stomach lurched. “What?”
Lord Holder Gerlan nodded, a sad frown sagging his weathered face. “Ordenans just like the ones who walked in with you delivered an offer of alliance from the Ire boy to the Lords Valantes, Erlene, and Sumraec. They tried to get me to join them, even after what they did to my nephew. Ire goaded them into attacking your province, and as far as I know could be behind your father’s death as well.”
Elle paused as the sinking feeling in her gut amplified. She hadn’t known about Emrael’s communication with the southern Lords Holder, but it was plausible that he’d seek an alliance after her father had rebuffed his offer. It felt like something he would do.
She shook her head sadly. “Emrael is a fool at times, and a dangerous one at that. But we must be pragmatic about the situation. We cannot afford to fight him and the foreign Malithii who have joined with the Corrandes at once, and I have seen for myself that the Malithii are the more pressing enemy. They have just attacked the Sagmyn Valley again, and we are undoubtedly next.”
The gaunt old man across the desk from her sighed. “What issue is that of ours? We are allied with the Corrandes and the Watchers. Why should we now fear them and ally ourselves with rebels that have wronged us? They hold Gadford even now! I for one will welcome the Watchers. We’ll see how the rebels like fighting the full might of the Provinces.”
“Damal, it’s not as simple as that anymore. The Corrandes have allied with the forces of the Fallen. They turn men and women into half-dead monsters called soulbound.”
“Do not speak to me of the Fallen or any of your religious nonsense,” Damal replied gruffly. “I’ll not be tricked into your foolishness as easily as that.”
Elle frowned at him in disapproval. “I assure you that these monsters are very real, and that their Westland masters will be the end of the Provinces if we fail to defeat them. Ask Prilan if you don’t believe me.”
She paused to calm herself and focus. If the man didn’t even believe that the threat they faced was real, pleas for reason would be of no use. “That’s beside the point, though, isn’t it? You are alone, Lord Holder. Emrael Ire and his allies are to your north, east, and now south. Regardless of my motivations—or your beliefs—I am your only hope. Give me your loyalty and send men from the Barros Legion compound here to get me to the capital. I alone can negotiate peace between the southern Lords Holder, Emrael Ire, and his mother in the Sagmyn Province who represents Ordenan interests.”
Damal sat back in his chair, staring at her in silence, so she continued in a soft, sinister voice. “Or, you can take a chance on Corrande and the Watchers. It’s possible that they’ll defeat Emrael’s forces in Iraea and Sagmyn. It’s possible that they have finally devised a way to defeat the Ordenans, who have allied themselves with Emrael Ire. It’s even possible that the southern Barros Lords Holder let you live long enough to see it.”
The Lord Holder sank back further in his chair, his eyes sunken and haunted now. “Hmmmph,” he grunted noncommittally.
“You have something like ten thousand Barros men stationed here, correct?” she asked, standing as if the Lord Holder had agreed to support her. Nerves made her stomach flutter, but she let none of that show on her face or in her voice. “I need four thousand of them to get me to Naeran safely, and to bolster whatever men my father had in the capital. You’ll keep six thousand, and your primary concern will be to hold the West Pass against any intruders. In return, I’ll see to it that Emrael Ire returns Gadford to you, and I’ll increase your share of the tariff on goods flowing through Lidran and Gadford to fifty percent of net proceeds for ten years.”
“Fifty percent?” Damal raised his eyebrows, sitting forward to rest his forearms on the desk. He was clearly interested now. “The Ire boy will just give Gadford to you, easy as asking?”
Elle put on a soft smile that she hoped hid her lack of certainty. “I believe I have the answer to that riddle, given proper support from my Lords Holder. Starting with you, Lord Gerlan.”
“And what of your sister? She’s the rightful heir to your House, is she not?”
“She is. Or would be, if she were capable of such. The Westlander priests have placed one of their … magic devices on her,” Elle said, using a term for mindbinder Craftings that the no-nonsense old Provincial Lord would understand. “Even if she can be recovered, I am the right Barros to lead my House and this province. I am the effective governor now. Our articles allow for such, and my sister will agree with me, one way or another.”
Lord Gerlan harrumphed. “Better you than those southern bastards or your daft sister, I suppose. You’ll not get any open declarations of support from me, however! Not until you have settled the southern Lords Holder and given Gadford back to me.”
Elle smiled. She had really done it! “That will be fine, Lord Holder. For now, the Legionmen will be sufficient. I will contact you as soon as I’ve settled things in Naeran.”
Lord Holder Damal Gerlan swept one hand across his mostly bald pate and sighed throatily. “Absent Gods send you do, girl. I wish you luck.”