by Jenna Glass
“I think you all need to stop thinking about him as the man you once knew,” Ellin interjected. “Whatever changes he’s undergone have turned him into someone who could persuade a young priest in training to murder his own father, exile his own brother, seize the throne of Khalpar, and launch what he has billed as a holy war. Either his power is so frightening as to be persuasive all on its own, or he has somehow gained other skills of persuasion. It doesn’t matter which.”
Tynthanal groaned and leaned back in his chair, his face lined with stress and strain. “We have to plan for the worst, which means assuming his navy will be able to fight its way past ours. And I fear that if we divide our forces, we will not have enough men to defend either approach fully.”
A heavy silence descended on the room, lasting for the balance of a minute as dark thoughts swirled. Then Lord Aldnor sat up straighter in his chair and leaned forward, peering at Ellin’s image with intensity.
“Did your informant say the invasion was going to come from the harbor, or that Draios and Delnamal would?”
Ellinsoltah frowned. “Well, he said the attack would come from the harbor.” Her frown deepened. “But he was speaking specifically about his own orders.”
Lord Aldnor nodded. “And likely assuming his party would be trying to break away from the rest of the army to climb the cliffs. But I cannot see any way that it makes sense for an army to attack us from the harbor when the only way up the cliffs is on narrow roads we can defend with so few men.”
“Not that few,” Tynthanal protested. “Not when there are two of them on opposite sides of the harbor.”
Aldnor made a placating gesture with his hands. “But few in comparison to the whole of our ground forces. It’s hard to believe that even their unusual magic would allow them to bring an army up those roads successfully.”
Alys started as she realized exactly what Aldnor was suggesting. “You think their ground forces will come overland to the walls, but that Delnamal’s party will head for the harbor, hoping it will be lightly enough defended that they can use their magic to fight their way through.”
Aldnor nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Getting a small force up one of those roads seems much more plausible than trying to get an army up it.”
Aldnor and Tynthanal began discussing plans to defend the roads with as few men as possible, and Alys let her mind drift away. The defenders would, of course, be armed with the purgative spell she had created, so that should they be so unfortunate as to have access to Kai, they might trigger it and hopefully remove Delnamal’s stolen Rhokai. Alys would make sure that the female cadets she had brought from Women’s Well—with their women’s Kai readily available—were stationed along whichever route was deemed most likely for Delnamal to travel.
But for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, hearing this report only strengthened her conviction that it would be up to her to stop Delnamal. She would hold her tongue for the time being, but when the meeting was over and she could snatch a moment of Tynthanal’s time, she would suggest what seemed to her the obvious fail-safe.
If Delnamal was truly headed to Aaltah’s Well, then if he somehow managed to get through all the myriad defenders who would try to stop him, Alys would need to be in the Well chamber waiting for him. Ready to perform her sacrifice in a situation that everyone would agree left her with no other choice.
Tynthanal would argue, of course, but the argument would be more reflexive than anything.
Although she did not believe it would last, something very like peace descended on Alys, releasing some of the tension that had kept her whole body clenched for so long. She was not eager for the war to begin, and she would still have many horrors and terrors to confront. But there was an end in sight, and she was ready to face it.
* * *
—
Ellin paced the length of her private study, wishing she could run and scream and tear the crown off her head so that she would not have to face yet another horrifying decision. Standing by the fireplace, Zarsha watched her pace, his arms crossed over his chest, his face ashen as they both tried to absorb the terrible proposal that Lady Leethan had laid at their feet.
Still pacing, Ellin pressed her hands to her stomach, where a hard knot of dread had formed and refused to let go. She shook her head.
“I can’t possibly approve this,” she said, her voice shaking. She did not meet Zarsha’s eyes, instead fixing her gaze on the carpet at her feet.
Zarsha did not respond. Right now, she desperately needed his love and support and advice, and yet she knew full well that it was impossibly selfish of her to lay any of this at his feet. The only member of his family he had ever shown any fondness for was his brother, but family was still family.
“It’s horrendous!” she nearly shouted, as if Zarsha had argued with her. She risked a glance at him and saw that there was a rim of red around his eyes, and his teeth were clenched in an effort to hold in his emotions.
She didn’t make a conscious decision to cross the room and throw her arms around him, but soon she was holding his taut body against her and laying her head on his chest, desperately seeking a comfort that was nowhere to be found.
He held her tightly against him, and she could hear the speeding of his heart as her ear pressed against his chest.
“It’s war,” she heard him say hoarsely, his voice so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it.
She shook her head, still pressing close to him. “I won’t do it,” she said. “I can’t. It’s too…It’s too…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Even if we discount her dream,” Zarsha continued, his voice a little stronger, “you have to admit that her plan would be…effective.”
“But there are limits to what can honorably be done. Even in war.”
“I don’t think Delnamal and Draios care much about those limits. And if Leethan’s plans could free up our troops so that they might march to Aaltah’s aid…”
Ellin pushed away from him and looked up into his face. His eyes shone with suppressed tears, and everything about his expression screamed of anguish, telling her how badly he wished to deny his own words.
“That doesn’t make it right,” she protested.
Zarsha stroked a thumb over her cheek. It was only then that she realized she was crying. “Is it better to deny her permission and let Waldmir’s army hold us back until Aaltah falls?” he asked, then grimaced and shook his head. “Waldmir has chosen to side with monsters, and those who march with him have done the same.”
“So what you’re saying is that we should agree.” Ellin shuddered, her mind supplying helpful images of Lord Creethan’s assassination attempt against her, then twisting the dagger into her heart by reminding her of Tamzin’s screams of agony as he had died. As she had killed him. That she was even considering Leethan’s proposal was a sure sign that she was a monster herself.
Zarsha pulled her back into his arms, and she didn’t know if he meant it to comfort himself or her. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear meeting her eyes at the moment.
“I’m saying there are some times when the best you can do is pick the lesser of two evils. And this is one of those times.”
Ellin closed her eyes, for she knew as horrible as Leethan’s plan might be, it stood a reasonable chance of working. And it was hard to quantify how many lives it might save.
“I will procure the spell she needs,” Zarsha said, as if Ellin had already given permission. And maybe her failure to argue meant that she had.
“We will tell no one else of this,” he continued. “There must be no chance that Waldmir could receive a warning. Besides, there is no reason to burden anyone else’s conscience with the weight we will be carrying.”
Ellin sucked in a deep breath. It did not make her feel calm, exactly, but she at least felt a core of steadiness
somewhere deep inside. Once more she looked up and met Zarsha’s eyes, nodding.
“We will bear this burden together,” she said softly.
Zarsha managed a sad smile while the anguish still shone from his eyes. “Together,” he agreed.
* * *
—
“You can’t be serious!” Jaizal protested, her voice going shrill with a combination of incredulity and alarm.
Leethan winced in the face of her friend’s distress, although she had been well aware of exactly how Jaizal would take her declaration. “I’m afraid I am,” she said as gently as she knew how and watched Jaizal’s eyes fill with tears. Guilt stabbed through her, for although she had told Jaizal that she planned to travel with Rhozinolm’s army to the Nandel border, she had not been honest about exactly why.
Ever since the vision she had triggered in secret, Leethan had been putting her mind to the puzzle of how Elwynne could possibly end up on the throne. The idea that Nandel could change its attitude toward women enough to allow such a thing seemed impossible, at least in such a time frame. Maybe several generations down the line, but during Elwynne’s youth?
Her mind could barely encompass the possibility, and yet she had too much faith in the Mother of All to dismiss it. Somehow, it was possible for Elwynne to take the throne of Nandel one day, and some action of Leethan’s could lead to that future.
“I-I don’t understand,” Jaizal said miserably, shaking her head. “After all these years, you are finally, finally safe! And you would march with an army going to war because of some stupid dream? One that any fool would know not to take literally, even if she actually believes it to be prophetic?”
“It’s more than just the dream,” Leethan said, although she had no intention of telling Jaizal about the vision. Jaizal’s mind would likely follow the same path as her own had once she knew what the future might hold. If she knew for certain that Leethan intended to sacrifice herself…
Leethan let that thought trail off, for in reality there was nothing Jaizal could do to stop her. Behind her friend’s back, she had already spoken to Zarsha and the queen about what she intended to do, getting their reluctant blessing. Jaizal could cry and scream at her and protest to her heart’s delight, but she could not stop Leethan from going.
No, the truth was that Leethan did not have the courage to face the pain and distress she was planning to cause her best and oldest friend. It was, perhaps, an act of cowardice. And it was certainly a betrayal. She could only imagine how much greater the pain of her death would be when Jaizal realized that Leethan had brazenly lied to her so that she could leave without having to say goodbye.
“If it’s not the dream,” Jaizal said, “then what?”
Leethan sighed. “Not just the dream, I said. It’s also…a feeling. Something deep inside here.” She touched her chest, and while she was not telling the whole truth, she was at least telling part of it. She honestly believed this was what the Mother of All wanted her to do.
Leethan smiled and reached for her friend’s hands, giving them both a firm squeeze. “I promise I am not taking the dream literally,” she lied. “I believe it means I have a role to play in the battle that is to come, and I cannot imagine how I can play any role at all if I stay here safe in Zinolm Well.”
“Have you considered that Nandel might win the battle and march on Zinolm Well?” Jaizal asked, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t necessarily have to go to Waldmir; he has every intention of coming to you.”
“That may be, but if I can do something to stop him, then I’d far prefer to do it before he has all but conquered Rhozinolm. I can’t imagine how many people would die before he and his army reached Zinolm Well. Besides, if he’s going to come to me anyway, then Zinolm Well is not as ‘safe’ as you think it is.”
Jaizal blinked away tears. “I am old and alone here in a kingdom where I can barely speak the language and know no one but you. If you’re going to travel with the army, then I will go with you.”
“Someone has to stay and take care of Elwynne,” Leethan reminded her.
“Jewel can do that,” Jaizal protested. “Or her supposed father could take her.”
It was a perfectly reasonable argument, and although Zarsha knew he was not truly the girl’s father, he and Ellinsoltah had offered to transfer the girl to the palace now that the secret of her presence in Rhozinolm was known. However, Elwynne was far too wise for her years, and she would ask too many questions—questions no one was yet prepared to answer, and whose answers would leave the poor child confused and adrift. Better to give her some time to acclimate to Rhozinolm culture and learn the language while in surroundings that were becoming familiar, rather than to snatch her away yet again.
“She knows you and trusts you,” Leethan said. “She has lost so much already, and I fear my leaving—even temporarily—might make her feel she is being abandoned. Again.”
Jaizal’s eyes squeezed shut, for she had to hear the truth in Leethan’s words. She squared her shoulders and opened her eyes once more, catching Leethan’s gaze and holding it.
“Can you look me in the eyes and promise me that you do not intend to kill yourself in some heroic act you think will defeat Waldmir?”
Something inside Leethan shriveled, and she wanted very much to look away, but she couldn’t. Not without letting Jaizal see the truth. “I promise,” she said, giving Jaizal’s hands another squeeze and not allowing herself to blink. She put every drop of strength and conviction and earnestness she could find into her voice, willing Jaizal to take her at her word.
Jaizal shivered and lowered her gaze. “I still wish you wouldn’t go,” she said softly. “Or that you would at least let me go with you. But…I’ll try to keep my protests to a minimum.” She raised her chin once more. “Even so, I reserve the right to try again to change your mind before you leave.”
Leethan smiled, while inside the pain and guilt gnawed at her. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Alys stood on the battlements in the rain, shielding her eyes with one hand as she stared out over the water far below. Even on a clear day, she would barely be able to see the ships that formed the final barricade between the attacking fleet and the harbor, but on this foggy morning in the steady rain, she could not even see that much. The only reason anyone inside the city of Aalwell knew the battle had begun was because of the steady communication that reached the palace thanks to the talkers Women’s Well had provided for the captains of each ship.
If she truly wanted to know how the battle was going, she’d learn more by staying by Tynthanal’s side so that she could listen to the reports he kept receiving, but something inside her had insisted she try to see for herself, even knowing the effort would be futile.
She let her gaze drop to the Harbor District, which from this vantage point appeared to be entirely deserted. She caught no hint of movement anywhere, although she knew there was a company of soldiers at each end, ready to defend the roads that led up the cliffs. Those soldiers were hidden behind the largest Trapper spells Women’s Well could provide, and Alys knew that Delnamal’s men wouldn’t see them even when they marched into their midst. She’d have taken more comfort from the formidable ambush if Delnamal hadn’t fallen victim to such a scheme before, when he’d first sent soldiers to destroy Women’s Well and been defeated. There was no doubt in her mind that he was fully prepared for many of his foes to be concealed with Trapper spells, and though she didn’t know what he could do to counter them, she knew he had to have something in mind.
Alys shivered as the rain soaked her hair and trickled down the neckline of her gown. The shiver was not entirely born of cold, for she could not deny that she was afraid.
No. “Afraid” was too mild a term for what she felt today.
Somewhere below her in that Harbor District, concealed behind the Trapper spells she
feared would be inadequate protection, her little boy was stationed with the rest of the youngest cadets of the Citadel of Aaltah. The lord commander was convinced that the heaviest of Draios and Delnamal’s forces would be coming at them overland from Wellshead Beach, and had therefore stationed his most seasoned fighters along the city walls. Boys of Corlin’s age were expected to fight in times of war, but they were generally kept in reserve, called upon to enter the fray only as a last resort. Lord Aldnor had therefore decided that they should join the smaller forces guarding the harbor.
Alys’s first reaction upon hearing that Corlin would be in the Harbor District had been a panic so intense that she had feared her heart was about to give out and she would perish before the battle even started.
“I know Delnamal will be coming to the harbor,” she’d insisted tearfully when Tynthanal had finally managed to calm her down enough for coherence. “I know it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” her brother had said soothingly, “but in all likelihood, Corlin is going to see action whether he’s at the walls or at the harbor. And the harbor is much easier to defend with Trapper spells than the walls are. I believe it is the safer of the two possible assignments.”
Tynthanal’s argument made sense, and Alys knew that Corlin would very much like to be present when Delnamal arrived. If anyone hated Delnamal as much as Alys did, it was Corlin, and he was probably down there willing his uncle to make an appearance. And hoping that somehow, he himself could be responsible for killing him. None of which made Alys feel any better. The terror of knowing her only remaining child might lose his life in battle today overwhelmed Alys’s thoughts to the point that she at times feared for her sanity.
With a shuddering breath, she decided that standing outside on the battlements in the cold, drenching rain while she could see nothing of any substance was a sure and certain sign of her weakened mental state, so she hastened back inside.