by Kelly Coon
Ensi Puzu knelt to her, too, and joined the chants of the crowd. “All hail Sarratum Arwia!” The four other ensis who supported her joined in. “All hail Sarratum Arwia!”
That made five.
As the crowds shouted and sang and called her name, Arwia held out a hand to the council members who remained silent.
“Good men! Please join me in reclaiming our city. Join me in making our citizens happy and whole! You will be rewarded for your support and will have a hand in shaping Alu into greatness.”
After a moment of consideration, Ensi Mudutu nodded, then knelt and began to chant along with Ensi Puzu, his long hair falling over his shoulders. “All hail Sarratum Arwia! All hail Sarratum Arwia!”
Six. Their support was split.
Arwia held out her hand again to the rest of the men. “Ensis! Join me, for the sake of our broken city. Help me restore it so we are not vulnerable to others who do not care about our citizens as I do!”
Please. Please. We need this. It will mean so much for her reign to take the throne with support.
The men on the council deliberated, and two of them, contempt on their faces, left the viewing box and walked away.
But finally, with a look of resignation, Ensi Adda knelt slowly, his red tunic bunching around his knees. “All hail Sarratum Arwia,” he said softly, nodding to her. Ensi Puzu elbowed him in the gut, and the man raised his fist and his voice. “All hail Sarratum Arwia!”
Seven. A majority.
It didn’t matter that the remaining ensis refused to show her allegiance. It didn’t matter. Because she had gotten approval from the majority of the council, and she was now Alu’s queen.
The city was won.
The citizens of Alu stood on their benches and shouted for her as she rode around the Pit on her horse, her face fiery. Determined.
From across the arena, my eyes found Dagan. With Nasu, he grabbed Commander Ummi off her horse and paraded her around the other side of the Pit on their shoulders. On her mare, Assata cradled her broken arm, gritting her teeth in pain, but delirious in the victory nonetheless. Next to her, Higal shouted, mouth open wide, one victorious fist to the sky.
Crying with abandon, I placed my hand over my heart, the gesture of my city, as Dagan cheered in exultation. I took in the wreckage of the bodies all around me. The blood. The price of human life spent to further each side’s aims. I cried, for we were safe, and those guardsmen were not. Everyone who paid the price of war certainly was not.
But for now, the weakest in Alu would be served by someone who held their needs in her hands with more regard than her own power, and I prayed as I lifted my head to the sky, that she would serve them well.
We owed it to those who had died to ensure that she did.
ARWIA CALLED FOR a couple of the Koru to go find Shiptu and release her from the dungeons, but I had one person on my mind and one only: Dagan.
People streamed into the Pit, claiming their dead and carrying their wounded to safety. I helped those I could as I wended around the chariots. He was in this Pit somewhere. It didn’t matter that he’d be covered in gore. I would find him. I would fling myself into his arms and tell him I loved him until I lost my voice. I would.
My heart in my throat, I pushed past a pair of men carrying a dead guardsman between them, as a band of Koru headed out toward the dark passageway that led into the city. Arwia trailed behind them on her white mare, regal. Glowing. The sarratum she was born to be.
I turned to the Koru, clasping each of them on their shoulders as they trailed past. “My many thanks for the miracle you performed for us. My many thanks. Thank you for your help. We couldn’t have done it without you. You saved us. Thank you.”
One of them paused. “We were protecting our city as well as yours. We will stay to instate Nin Arwia on the throne, but after that we must return to our queen.”
I placed a hand over my heart. “Of course.”
She returned a Linaza salute and went on her way as Arwia called to me.
“My friend!” I grabbed her leg as she reined her horse to a stop. “You and the army came at exactly the right time. But how did you get through the gates?”
She declined her head regally, and up close, I could see all the work that had gone into her war attire. Nanaea must have spent hours perfecting it.
“Higal wanted to bring war, but I brought coin. Yashub let me borrow riches from Laraak to secure the victory. He had a whole chest of gold and jewels in his keep. I told him once I was sarratum, I’d pay him back double, and he took me at my word, especially when there were warriors at my back.”
Yashub was wealthy?
He’d been holding out on us. He could’ve been the first in line to secure Iltani at the bridal gifting. We were going to have to have a word with him.
“So when we came into the city, I distributed the coins and jewels to the guardsmen’s families to make sure we’d be allowed safely in. Most were willing to change allegiance. They only complied with Uruku’s command because of his threats. When I told them I’d be fair and would make sure they were paid decently, they were happy to comply.”
Goose bumps covered my arms. “You’re brilliant! You’ll be a wonderful, strategic sarratum.”
She smiled. “My thanks, friend. But Nanaea helped me feel like one, and both Ummi and Higal ensured it was so. They came together with the help of Assata. As Assata tells it, she disarmed the men who’d dragged her from the throne room, though they broke her arm, and sneaked out of Alu in a trader’s cart. She hid until nightfall. When she came into Laraak, she ate, and asked the warriors—all of them—to follow Ummi and Higal into battle. And they did.”
She looked back at Assata, who stood, talking weakly with Nasu, Higal, and Ummi at the entrance of the corridor, her broken arm already cradled in a makeshift sling. I’d need to set it soon.
Arwia reached down and stroked the neck of her horse. “But I have to go, Kammani, while everyone believes in me and the Manzazu army is still here. They’re giving me a chance, and I don’t want to mess this up. I want to show them that I’ll keep my promises to rule with grace. And”—she glanced worriedly toward the horizon—“I’ll need to repair the relationship with Sarratum Tabni. She wanted Uruku alive, so I have to send some messengers to her immediately with news.”
“Well, I’ll be here every step of the way to support you. Now I have to go, too.”
To find Dagan.
She blew me a kiss, nudged the horse ahead, and trotted toward the gate.
My throat tight, I wedged myself through a line of warriors who were leading away the guardsmen who’d surrendered. Nasu, Ummi, Higal, and Assata stood at the entrance of the corridor, talking softly, and my heart squeezed. I couldn’t just walk past.
My voice broke when I reached them. “Ummi, my friend! I used your grappling trick and it saved my life.”
She nodded, her face weary, armor spattered with the blood of broken guardsmen. “I’m glad it could help you, A-zu.”
I turned to Assata and buried my face in her good shoulder, reminded of long days spent playing outside her tavern. “And you! I prayed that wink meant something good for us. Hoped. But I thought you might be dead.”
After a moment, she broke away, wincing. “I’m too old to be taken down that easily. At least you weren’t praying for my death.”
“Oh, Assata. Of course not. We didn’t believe the same things about how to proceed, but we were always on the same side. Always. And”—tears pricked my eyes—“I am so sorry about Warad. I am. I was reckless. I caused Uruku to retaliate…”
She shook her head. “You were foolish, but it was brave to try. You’re a healer. It’s honorable to want to save lives. But had we simply coordinated our efforts…” She let her voice trail off, a haunted look in her eyes. One tinged with bitterness that would likely take years t
o diminish, if it ever did.
Nasu crossed his arms over his blood-spattered chest, weariness on his brow. “I’m just grateful Dagan and I were able to work together.” He pointed toward the far wall. “He’s over there, by the way.”
“I’m grateful, too.” I went up on tiptoe and kissed his rough cheek. “Thank you for taking our side in the end. I’ll care for your wounds after, all right? And yours, Ummi and Assata?”
They all nodded at me, but Nasu spoke. “Of course.”
With one final smile, I left them to go find Dagan.
The boy I had loved since I was old enough to walk stood behind a chariot in the Pit, staring down at a guardsman whose legs were twisted beneath him, unblinking eyes gazing into the cloudless sky above.
“Dagan?” Relief flooded through my body as I said his name.
He was alive, and there were too many guardsmen lying near us who would never hear their names spoken again. My chest ached as I took in his battered, bruised body standing over a dead man whose family would probably utter his name in mourning this very evening.
I laid a hand on his arm.
“He was young, Kammani. Not too much older than I am.” He rubbed his jaw. “And I killed him.”
“My sweet.” My voice cracked. “You had no choice.”
He looked at the blood staining his hands. “When the battle ends, you feel victorious. But when you see the wreckage”—he looked around, his eyes bleak, face drawn—“there is a feeling of hollowness in my chest.” He swallowed with some difficulty. “I killed him, and another guardsman, and Uruku.” He looked up at me. “I killed him. Murdered him. And it was nearly you. I threw my dagger and it could have hit you.”
The memory of the Boatman’s dire warning flashed through my brain, and it stole my breath. Because without the warning, I might never have been able to react that quickly. I wouldn’t have believed that death could come from Dagan’s own hand.
The Boatman had saved me.
Suddenly overcome, I tugged Dagan away, and we trudged toward the corridor and inside the shadowy depths. Out of the sun. Out of the garish light. Away from the death and injury and blood. I had a life to live, and so did he.
“You threw that dagger to protect me.”
“But it could have killed you like you said in the tent. After your—vision. You told me and I didn’t believe you.”
“Well, luckily, I trusted myself.” I smiled into his face. His bloody, battered face that was swollen and needed tending to as soon as possible. “And you killed the others to save your life.” Tears filled my eyes. “We tried, Arammu. Tried to end it without bloodshed. It was the best we could do. But Uruku was a man of death, and we were in his domain. I was foolish to think it would end any other way.”
“No. You were right to wish it could be that way. War is destruction. For both sides.”
We stood lost in thought, working through our pain, our triumph, our failure.
After a moment, I placed my hands on his big chest. “You didn’t come to me right after we’d won. You carried Ummi on your shoulders instead. I thought you’d run to find me.”
He smiled, his eyes guarded, scuffling his sandaled feet in the dust. He blinked thick, black lashes, and he lifted his amber eyes to mine. Took my hands in his. Both of ours were bloody, filthy, coated in the dried remnants of lives lost, but neither of us cared in that moment.
“Aren’t you tired of me chasing you?”
“You never need to chase me again.” I squeezed his hands with all my might. “I am here with you now, and with you forever, Dagan, if you will have me.” I pulled him close and stood up on my toes. “You told me that we are in this life together, and I know that it’s true. I can be the healer I want to be, and I can also have you. I can have it all, and want it all. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, more than you can ever underst—”
But before I could finish, he was crushing me to him, his warm lips pressed to mine, his hands tangled in my hair. And I pulled him to me, too. Together, we let go of the grief, of the pain, and reminded ourselves exactly how it felt to be wonderfully and completely alive.
“Kammani!”
Iltani’s voice, echoing in the corridor, tugged me out of our intoxicating embrace.
“What?” I demanded.
She stood there, a hand on her hip. “Maybe you could get your tongue out of his mouth long enough to give me a hand?”
Blushing, I turned back toward Dagan, trying to lean away, but he held me fast, grinning.
“With what?” I answered her, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that perfect divot above his lips.
“Good gods of the morning sky. Look at me.”
I sighed. She always had a way of ruining a moment. But I’d forgive her for it. It was just her way.
And above the noise of the crowds celebrating around the Pit, I heard a scream. A woman’s scream. Planting one last kiss on Dagan’s fiery mouth, I walked out into the sands of the Pit, shielding my eyes from the sun. Another groan echoed off the blood-spattered walls. The sound was coming from the direction of the viewing box.
Gudanna. The child.
“She’s pushing?” I asked Iltani.
“The foot of her evil spawn has emerged and the cord is all wrapped around it, and if you think I’m going anywhere near whatever else comes out of that womb—snakes, spiders, what have you—”
“Iltani, be serious.” Wiping a hand down my face in exhaustion, all I could do was laugh. It figured.
Dagan joined me in the sand. “You have to go?”
I sighed. “It appears that I am needed.”
He wrapped his big arm around my shoulders and kissed me on my forehead. “Then lead the way. I’ve been told I’m a brilliant assistant.”
WRAPPED IN ONE of Shep’s old tunics, Shiptu stood in front of the door as Dagan and I trudged up the path to their home. He was limping significantly less since I’d mixed him and Nasu a pain tincture and tended to the worst of their wounds. Gudanna and the babe had been delivered into the safety of the Koru’s care until Arwia decided what to do with them. Alive, the child was a threat to her, and she knew it, especially if the other five ensis who didn’t support her rule decided to use the babe as a figurehead to spur their own takeover.
But for now, they were safe.
Iltani went to her old hut to find her ummum and abum. She was gifting them Gala’s home. She said she’d never live there—ever—but her parents were welcome to it.
“My son!” Shiptu ran down to meet us, her feet still unsteady beneath her, the days spent in a dungeon sapping her strength. She’d need a sturdy bone broth with fat and watercress to strengthen her. Maybe some chamomile for her nerves. When she reached Dagan, she threw herself into his arms.
As she cried into his chest, he rubbed her back and sank to his knees before her. “Ummum, I lied to you about Shep.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth silently as tears streaked down her face. “I know. I heard from Marduk and Qishti. But you protected me with your silence. Had I known…” She dropped her chin, swallowing, and cupped her hands around Dagan’s face. “It was better that I did not know. Now I can properly mourn my son.” Her voice broke, but she tugged him up to stand. “Now, both of you need to get cleaned up. You’re filthy, and you’ll scare Rish and Kasha.”
“They’re here? And Nanaea?” I followed Dagan and Shiptu inside, and the smell of old wood, smoke, and the faintest scent of cinnamon hit me. It was home. It smelled a lot like home.
“Not yet, but they are on their way. They’ll be here before nightfall. Assata is here, sleeping in the other room with some arnica and hemp for the pain in that arm. She asked a band of the warrior maidens to go to Laraak to get Nanaea and the boys.”
She ushered us through the main living quarters, out the back door, and around a gr
ove of tamarisk trees into a small, walled courtyard where a large washtub was filled to the brim with fresh water. Climbing flowers and thick green vines crawled overtop a lattice overhead, providing privacy and much-needed shade. A cake of Aleppo soap, linens, and clean tunics lay nearby on a set of matching chairs. A lounging pallet, covered in thick quilts, sat in the corner. She’d gone to a lot of trouble, despite her weakened state. “When Assata wakes, she’ll need that arm fixed, Kammani. She says she’ll be burying what’s left of her family and going back to Manzazu with Ummi to join the Koru. She’ll need to be whole to do it.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be more than happy to help her with whatever she needs.”
Her eyes were sadder than I’d seen them, but her chin remained resolute. She was a strong woman. She’d survive this pain, as she’d survived the dungeon. “All right. Then I’ll leave you two to get more presentable.” She smiled briefly, wrapped her arms around herself, and left the courtyard, closing the wooden gate behind her, her footsteps falling away until the door to the house slapped closed in the distance.
Dagan stood and contemplated the bath, turning bright eyes to me, the briefest flush rising to his cheeks. “You first. I’ll go draw more water.”
“No!” I shook my head. “You’ve been through a bigger trial. I’ll just go after you.”
“Stop it. I’m covered in gore. I won’t have you washing in that. Please, take my kindness.” He covered his heart with his big hand, his amber eyes bright but weary behind his thick lashes. Lashes that were impossibly dark and full.
Longing filled my belly. “All right.” I met his eyes. “I won’t be long.”
He stood, looking at me, biting his full, cracked lip. He put his hands on his hips, crossed his arms over his chest, then left them hanging at his sides. He cleared his throat, red creeping up his neck. He jerked his thumb behind us. Toward the house. “I’ll go get the buckets…um…while you bathe.” His face flushed even more, and he headed toward the gate.