by Elise Kova
All conversation ended as they entered the camp palace. Thirteen men and women surrounded a tall-standing table in the far left corner. They stopped studying the maps before them and turned to the people who entered. At the head of the table was the Emperor, Baldair to his left, and a much stronger-looking Aldrik to his right.
Vhalla’s eyes didn’t miss anything. She saw the slight sway to his movements just from turning to look at her. She saw the way Aldrik’s hands gripped the table for balance. She had to bite her lip to keep from scolding him for leaving his bed.
“My apologies for my delay.” Jax walked straighter, shifting into his role as head major. “I was on an errand for our prince fetching Lady Yarl and Lady Ci’Dan.”
Aldrik gave Jax a nod as the head major fit into the table. Elecia immediately started for Aldrik, her mission clear. Vhalla’s feet stilled a few steps from the table, trapped in the Emperor’s glare.
“Vhalla, to my right,” Aldrik announced, and all heads turned.
Vhalla took a deep breath, gripping her hands over her abdomen. She kept her head as high as possible and walked with purpose. But, even knowing Aldrik’s plans, her breath had a soft tremble to it.
Elecia glanced at Vhalla as she switched which of Aldrik’s hands she was holding. But the Western woman didn’t say anything as Vhalla assumed the place of honor at the prince’s right hand, nudging out a familiar old and grizzled-looking man.
“Aldrik,” the Emperor began ominously, “do you not think the girl would be better served elsewhere?”
“No.” Aldrik brushed off his father’s words as if they were nothing more than a half-hearted musing. “I think it wise to keep her informed on our preparations as the Lady Yarl’s knowledge of our forces will likely prove essential to her success.”
“Do you?” Emperor Solaris’s words practically dripped malice.
“The Lady Yarl?” Raylynn asked from Baldair’s left. Vhalla realized the whole of the Golden Guard was there, including a wide-eyed Daniel.
Time seemed to hold its breath as she met the other Easterner’s eyes. He was just diagonal to her right, not more than a few arm’s length away, but she felt like he was on the other end of the world. His hazel eyes drifted over to Aldrik at her side, clouding darkly before he averted his stare, making Vhalla’s chest tighten uncomfortably.
The rest of the table seemed oblivious to the silent conversation between the two Easterners. They focused on what Aldrik was saying, “... gave her a Crimson Proclamation.” “A hollow title,” the Emperor scoffed with a shake of his head.
“I respectfully disagree.” Erion had an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth as his eyes darted about the table like he was watching a spectacular play unfold before him. “As a proud member of one of the oldest families in the West, I would take care to honor the Windwalker as a lady, if the Lord Ci’Dan has so decreed.”
Despite gaining support, Vhalla was surprised to see Aldrik’s mouth tense briefly into a frown. The two Western Lords stared at each other for a long moment. Even Elecia seemed to pause her inspection of Aldrik to squint at Erion with apparent distrust.
“I would agree as well,” another Western man vocalized.
“I welcome the Windwalker into the Western Court.” A woman gave Vhalla a small nod of her head.
The Emperor scowled and opened his mouth to speak. “
Excellent. Now that that is settled, shall we resume?” Aldrik got in the final word and the table awkwardly turned back to the papers at hand, beginning to discuss something about the training schedules for the troops.
Vhalla braved a glance at the Emperor. His jaw was set and his eyes hadn’t left Aldrik. He saw right through what they were doing, Vhalla was certain of it. They weren’t exactly being subtle.
“... the question remains, do we invest in building weapons of siege or training the soldiers?” One of the other majors slid down a piece of paper that had been marked again and again.
“If she opens the doors to Soricium for us,” Erion retorted with a motion to Vhalla, “then siege weapons seem a waste of time. We should begin preparing for battle.”
Vhalla leaned toward Aldrik, peering at the paper he’d been presented. The prince made no sign of discomfort at her proximity, accommodating her interest. Elecia had finished her brief inspection and had run off somewhere.
“If she opens the palace,” stressed the grizzled major to Vhalla’s right.
“I will open it.” Vhalla was so engrossed in understanding the document that she missed all eyes turning to her in surprise at the confidence in her voice. “Here.” She pointed to the far side of the palace on the diagram. “Why aren’t there any siege weapons here?”
“They sealed off the back entrance with rock and rubble in the third year so, they only need to protect one entrance,” Aldrik explained.
“So then we would enter from here.” She placed a hand on the table to lean over the large piece of parchment. Her index finger swept to the opposite end of the palace.
“The girl can deduce we should go through the working door. Why don’t you leave this to the adults, child?” a mustached Western man sneered.
“We need to move something here.” Vhalla tapped at the back gate, pointedly ignoring him.
“What? Why? They closed off that entrance,” Raylynn commented from across the table.
They all looked at Vhalla like she was stupid. She looked back at them much the same.
“They are called Groundbreakers,” she observed. “Do you think some rubble would stop them from making that entrance usable again in a moment?” The sight of the cliff falling out from under Aldrik’s feet was in her mind again.
“Like the battle of Norin.” She boldly brought her eyes to the Emperor. These men and women would never respect her if she didn’t stop hesitating in showing them what she knew, what she’d learned and studied. She needed to turn book knowledge into something practical, something useable for action. “You charged with only a quarter of the host at the main gate. The rest flanked from behind.”
His eyes studied her coldly, and Vhalla swallowed, hoping she did not mix up her facts.
“No one expected you to come from the sea. You had the advantage and swept them from all sides.” She turned her eyes back to the map below.
“This could be the same, but a little reverse. We are weak on that side, unsuspecting. If we rush in with the main host through here, they run out this old entry, close it back up, split, flank us, and surround us. After that they can pin us in and massacre us at their leisure.” Vhalla took a breath and brought up her eyes. Everyone stared at her. Some wore expressions of shock, one or two appeared upset, Jax was wickedly amused. She turned to Aldrik; he stood with his hands folded across his chest, smirking proudly at his father.
“Would this be within the realm of a Groundbreaker’s abilities?” the Emperor finally asked.
“Oh, completely.” Jax laughed. “Don’t we look dumb for not thinking of it sooner?”
“Then if we move these here ...” someone started.
Vhalla’s head was reeling from the rush of her success that she faded out of the conversation for a few minutes as the majors debated how to reorganize their weaponry most effectively. She regained her focus when the argument became heated.
“Moving a single archer’s wall would take days,” Daniel objected.
“But it makes more sense to keep the trebuchets on the sides. If they retreat out the back it will likely be on foot, and the trebuchets would not be of use anyways,” an opposing major snapped.
“At least they have wheels.” Daniel scratched the back of his neck.
“I could move what you need,” Vhalla contributed suddenly, earning everyone’s attention. “Well, I could try.”
“You? You look like you’d fall over with a broad sword.” The grizzled major to her right gave her an unappreciative appraisal.
Vhalla pursed her lips together. “My magic is my muscle,” she said as conf
idently as possible.
“You weren’t there, Zerian,” Baldair finally joined in, giving the older man a name. “Vhalla stopped a winter sandstorm in the Western Waste by herself. The woman has power in that petite frame.”
Vhalla blinked. Zerian, the head major behind the Western Campaigns. The man was a legend in his own right.
“And what a frame it is,” Jax snickered under his breath, earning a roll of Aldrik’s eyes.
“Let me try tomorrow,” Vhalla insisted to Major Zerian, more politely. “If I cannot, then we can revisit the matter.” Her use of we seemed to be accepted by the group.
“Excellent. That seems to be resolved.” Aldrik slid the map back toward the opposite end of the table. Vhalla’s heart almost stopped when his eyes caught hers as he straightened. The corner of Aldrik’s mouth tugged upward in the most apparent smile that one could expect from the crown prince. She pressed her lips together and let out a hint of her satisfaction. He turned back to the table, his emotions falling from his face. But Vhalla knew that the people at this table had spent ample time with Aldrik; she doubted even the tiniest display of affection wouldn’t be missed. “What’s next?”
They discussed more about the castle, and each of the majors seemed to have something they wanted Vhalla to explicitly search for during her Projections. She was humble enough to admit to not knowing certain things, but she made sure that she understood before she allowed the conversation to move on. After the second major discussion, she realized that she needed to take her own notes, so Vhalla fished for a scrap of clean paper on the table. Aldrik moved his inkwell and quill toward her, and she nodded in thanks.
Vhalla worried he was being too forward as the prince’s golden-tipped quill scratched under her fingertips. She nodded at the major who was speaking to her, returning her attention to the parchment. These were men of war, but they were also nobles; they were born and bred to subtlety as much as they were to the sword—or any other weapon of choice.
They worked until lunch, when food began to fill an adjacent table; everyone heeded the silent call to break. Aldrik was the last to move, and Vhalla lingered by his side, watching him carefully from the corners of her eyes. He seemed to move well enough. Whatever potions the clerics had given him were clearly taking effect.
Elecia may have disagreed with Vhalla’s assessment, as she returned with her own bundle of potions that smelled tangy and freshly concocted. The woman sat on the other side of Aldrik, stealing his attention. The prince took the potions without question, Elecia activating each with her palms on his neck, chest, and stomach. Aldrik began to sit straighter after the last one.
“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” Erion drew her attention as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, leaning forward with a grin.
“I’m not sure about that,” Vhalla denied with a glance at the Emperor, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Too humble!” Jax laughed. “You’ve surprised me these past weeks. Where did all those brains come from? Did the Tower change that much while I was gone?”
“I haven’t spent that much time in the Tower yet.” Vhalla allowed others to serve themselves first, following their motions on what was the proper approach.
“Oh?” Jax raised an eyebrow.
“I was only Awoken this past year,” she explained, wondering how much of her story had traveled to the North; it seemed to vary. “Before that, I was a library apprentice.”
“A library apprentice?” One of the Western noblewoman squinted her eyes, as if trying to imagine it.
“You can’t tell from the woman she is now,” Craig interjected. “Trust me, I was there during the trial from the Night of Fire and Wind.”
“As was I,” Daniel mumbled, earning a confused look from Craig at his tone.
“Is Mohned still haunting those shelves?” Major Zerian asked from his seat to the right of the Emperor. Somehow, Vhalla and Aldrik had ended up on the opposing end.
“As of when I left.” She nodded, nostalgia sweetening her smile.
“Ha! Old bastard won’t die!” the man chuckled.
“Vhalla’s well-read also.” Daniel’s voice was thoughtful. His tongue formed her name delicately, stilling her. “On the march, she’d tell me of her readings. Everything from war tactics to fiction.”
Vhalla engaged in a staring contest with her food. It was very uncomfortable suddenly to be in the same room as Daniel. The bold looks he kept giving Aldrik weren’t helping.
“What’s your favorite book?” Erion asked.
Vhalla opened her mouth to speak, only to have Daniel steal the answer. “The Epic of Bemalg.” His hazel eyes met hers thoughtfully. “Unless things have changed?”
“No,” Vhalla confirmed with a shake of her head.
“The Epic?” Raylynn raised her eyebrows. “You actually read through it?”
“Of course.” Vhalla couldn’t fathom who wouldn’t finish a book once they’d started.
“Not everyone is as illiterate as you,” Craig teased the other member of the Golden Guard, earning a glare from the blonde woman.
“Quite a few talents you have. What others are there, I wonder?” Jax waggled his eyebrows lecherously at Vhalla. “Mother, Jax,” Elecia groaned. “Can you grow up just a little?” “You wouldn’t love me if I did.” Jax made a kissing face toward Elecia, who scrunched her nose in disgust.
“I find it beautifully tragic,” Vhalla confessed, shifting the conversation back to books.
“I remember when I was forced to read that for ‘culture building’.” Baldair laughed and shook his head. “If I recall, you enjoy the story, too,” he said to his brother.
“I do,” Aldrik affirmed.
Vhalla gazed at her prince in honest surprise. She realized that she had never asked about his taste in literature. It made her want to laugh that the most obvious thing they had in common had never been discussed.
“I think ‘beautifully tragic’ is a perfect way to describe it, also.” Aldrik’s lips curled into a smile at her, and Vhalla fought to hide her blush when she caught the looks of the table.
“How quickly can we expect the attack to launch?” One of the other majors turned the conversation away from personal matters.
“Given my previous indisposition, we have yet to explore the palace. Vhalla will need to learn it confidently enough to lead us through as needed,” Aldrik responded.
“Is that days? Weeks? Months?” Major Zerian asked.
Vhalla was startled to find he addressed her directly over the crown prince. “I should hope it would not be months,” she answered. She didn’t have time for it to take months. “I will not be so bold as to promise days, however.”
“So then we should plan for about a month until the attack.” Zerian nodded as he mentally began to plan.
“For that reason,” Aldrik pulled himself to his feet, “I think our time will be better spent elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” the Emperor questioned.
“I have all the faith in the world that the majors can adjust the rations appropriately and plan for the proper distribution of new blades,” Aldrik flattered the group. “However, we do have a castle to take, and there is only one among us who can offer it neatly.” His eyes fell back on her.
“Of course, my prince.” She gave him the smallest of smiles as she stood as well. Vhalla savored the fact that she had changed a term of formality to a form of endearment. He was, indeed, her prince.
“We will report our findings at the next meeting,” Aldrik announced in a tone that suggested it was not up for discussion. He did not even glance back at the Emperor before turning, placing his palm at the small of her back—for everyone to see—and leading Vhalla away.
ALDRIK DID NOT turn back, he did not look back, nor did he say a single word all the way to his room. Vhalla studied his profile nervously. His strides appeared more confident after Elecia’s ministrations, but his face was still gaunter than she would’ve liked. She wondered if he’d e
aten enough for lunch. She wondered if her performance had only created a new stress for him. She continued to find herself fretting over everything when it came to his wellbeing.
Opening the door to his room, Aldrik strode within, leaving Vhalla to latch it behind her. Her hand had barely left the handle when his palm pressed against the door to the right of her head. Aldrik leaned down, his fingertips at her chin.
“You. Are. Astounding,” he whispered, punctuating each word. They were slow across his tongue and flowed hotly from her ears to the pit of her stomach. The prince leaned forward, tilting his head to the side. His jaw brushed against her cheek as he spoke. “Who would have thought the slip of a girl I found tucked away in the library had such a woman within her?”
Vhalla took a breath, leaning against the door for support. His voice was a silken spell that held her in perfect thrall. Vhalla couldn’t be sure she was even breathing. Aldrik’s palm rested on her hip.
“How did it feel, to be called a lady before them?” His hand savored her side before curving around her waist.
“I-I know it’s nothing ...” Vhalla was surprised she could even make something that resembled a sentence.
He had a heavy-lidded look about him, as if he was drunk on her proximity alone. “It is not nothing, my Vhalla.” Aldrik shook his head. “I want you to become engrained in high society. We have no court or functions here for me to present you to the world. But all of those men and women will return home to the Imperial Court. They will take with them stories of you. I want to make them sing your praises.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“My father needs them. They feed his army, they supply the men and women he uses as soldiers, they own the industry of our land, and they are the figureheads that the Empire thrives upon.” Aldrik rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing as his voice became somber. “The more people who look to you, who admire you, the more who will mourn you should something befall you. It would mean an ‘accident’ would raise too many questions.”