by Elise Kova
They were an equal match with his heartbeat in the back of her mind. His combat prowess flowed through her veins, coupled with the skill Vhalla had gained from months of her own training. They both missed the slack-jaw amazement from the other soldiers. That the Windwalker danced toe-to-toe with one of the greatest sorcerers in the world, that she could best Aldrik as often as he bested her, that the prince seemed to find amusement—even joy—and not frustration at that fact.
She was breathless and exhausted. Vhalla didn’t know how long they’d sparred, but she’d reached her limit several gusts prior and finally held up a hand in forfeit. Vhalla panted, gripping her knee with her other palm, trying to catch her breath and to slow the wild heartbeat in her ears.
No one spoke as Aldrik approached her.
“Lady Yarl,” Aldrik folded his hands over his chest.
Vhalla saw the amusement lighting his eyes. She grinned in reply. “My prince?”
“I don’t know if that test was quite conclusive.”
“Perhaps we’ll have to do it again?” she reasoned.
“You try me.” Aldrik allowed his princely tone to overshadow his playful streak.
“Forgive me,” Vhalla straightened. A broad smile plastered across her lips. She heard his meaning. She knew how she tried him. “But I may enjoy it.”
The crown prince snorted, turning to the soldiers. “The lot of you, practice. I expect you to be as skilled as Lady Yarl by the next time I return.” Aldrik turned back to her. “I am famished.”
“Me, too,” she agreed and accepted his invitation as Aldrik began leading her back to the camp palace next to a bewildered Baldair.
“You two move well together,” Baldair said ineloquently.
“Must have great sex,” Jax snickered from Aldrik’s right.
“Jax!” Baldair groaned.
Vhalla’s face flushed redder than the setting sun. Her breath was still quick from the fight. Her fingers suddenly itched to take Aldrik’s.
“Vhalla.” The crown prince summoned her attention with an awkward cough.
“Lady Vhalla!” a voice called, interrupting them.
Vhalla turned to see Timanthia running up from one of the side pathways of the tent city. She heard Aldrik take a sharp inhale of air.
“My prince.” Tim skidded to a halt, giving a clumsy bow. Her attention turned back to Vhalla. “I’ve been trying to find you.”
“Yes?” Vhalla thought of the shredded cape the girl returned to her.
“Since your demonstration, since I saw ...” Tim smoothed some stray strands of dark blonde hair away from her eyes. “I don’t know what happened to your cape. It was fine when I rolled it up, when we returned to Soricium.”
“I see.” Vhalla debated if the girl was to be believed.
“But, well, it was amazing what you did, moving the archer’s wall.” Tim fumbled in her pockets. “My friends started asking me about you; they wanted to know more about your magic, about being you.”
Tim pulled out a dark scrap of cloth from her pocket. Painted upon it with some thick white paste in a rough hand was an attempt at the feather symbol that had been emblazoned upon the original cloak.
Vhalla stared at it in confusion.
“We started making them, my friends and I.” Tim passed it from hand to hand.
Jax and Baldair took a step closer. Even Aldrik leaned in to get a better look.
“I know it’s not very good, it’s just the stuff they use on tents to make them waterproof. There’s no actual paint here.”
“Why?” Vhalla asked, bewildered. “Why are you making these?”
“Well,” Tim mumbled. “We all, we think it’s lucky. You’ve survived so much, the attack on the Capital, the sandstorm, the assassination attempt, getting through the North. And, no offense, but there’s no reason a library girl should have survived all that.” Tim covered her mouth in shock. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right,” Vhalla laughed.
“Anyways, I guess, we feel like there’s something blessed about the winds of the Windwalker, and that this will protect us in the battles to come.” Tim focused uncertainly on the cloth in her hands.
“I don’t think—”
“You may wear it,” Aldrik announced from Vhalla’s side, cutting her short.
Vhalla’s attention jerked toward the prince in surprise.
“Really?” Tim brought her eyes up to the prince’s.
“It was my design; I should have to give just as much permission,” Aldrik said flatly, looking away.
Vhalla stared up at him in shock that he would openly confess such a thing. “I suppose it is fine, then.” Vhalla smiled, trying to reassure the girl.
“Thank you!” Tim beamed. She glanced at the princes, as if suddenly remembering herself. “I’m sure you have business to attend to. I shouldn’t keep you.”
Vhalla’s smile slipped from her face the moment Tim had vanished. “It won’t protect them,” she whispered to no one in particular.
“Neither will their prayers to the Mother. Will you tell them not to pray?”
Vhalla blinked at Aldrik; it seemed an odd thing for a prince to say about the religion of the Empire. “No, but—”
“Vhalla, soldiers need hope, and there is such precious little to go around,” Baldair explained. “They need courage, motivation, the belief in a greater force—any greater force. They need symbols and beacons for that hope.”
Vhalla nodded, her thoughts a step behind Jax and Baldair. She chewed over the words. Baldair was seeing something she didn’t. He had been for some time.
“I find joy in knowing others turn to you for courage and inspiration,” Aldrik spoke only for her and caught her startled eyes. “I am sorry for how I acted last night. And for, well, you know,” his silver tongue failed him. Aldrik paused, and Vhalla stilled as well. “You were—are correct. And I promise, if you will still have me, I will work to stop turning to it.”
“Of course I will have you.” It was easier to forgive him than it was to be angry. It felt right to be at peace with Aldrik. Fighting, no matter how justified, was an unnatural state for them. It was like her left hand picking a conflict with her right. They were both part of her. “Though, I do expect we will speak on it.”
He stiffened.
“Eventually, when you’re ready,” Vhalla conceded with a gentle smile. It would do nothing to push him further for the time being; this was an issue that would benefit from small steps, time, and patience. Trying to take it on at a warfront was not the most ideal of situations.
He gave her a warm and deeply appreciative look, and she barely kept herself from slipping her hand in his, but Vhalla walked closer to the prince than was proper. Her side almost brushed against his with every step. Aldrik wasn’t shy with his smiles, and Vhalla beamed from ear to ear. They were so overcome with relief that they missed the startled looks from soldiers all the way back to the camp palace.
They spent another two days in a relative peace. Mornings were spent with Baldair, Raylynn, Jax, and Elecia. On the second morning, Elecia boldly brought Fritz along into the camp palace, and the Southerner’s tenacious and outgoing personality fit in easily with the odd mix of nobility.
The afternoons she spent Projected in Soricium, but not much had changed. Their preparations for an attack were going ahead as planned, and Vhalla knew they’d strike in a few short weeks’ time. The army was almost honed to fighting perfection.
It was four days later when Vhalla finally found the Chieftain on the woman’s viewing platform, as Vhalla had dubbed it.
“They prepare to ransack Soricium,” the Western man reported.
If only Vhalla could figure out where his information came from. It was becoming almost too easy to accept a spy in their midst.
“The Windwalker is an informant. She could be here right now.”
There was a dark amusement in knowing the man’s words were true.
“This is the wicked
power I cautioned you of.”
“It is no matter.” The Chieftain ran her fingers over the carved wood behind her. “We will be far from her reach soon.”
“How? You cannot outrun the wind.” The man squinted, trying to call a bluff.
Vhalla didn’t expect to find herself agreeing with a Knight of Jadar, of all people, but there she stood.
“The head clan will live. We will take our knowledge, our trees’ heart seeds, and flee Soricium.” The girl and Za on either side of the Chieftain grimaced at the notion.
“Do you think the army will let you leave?” the man questioned.
“They will have no choice. The might of the North comes to overwhelm them, to free us, to take us to a place where we can lead and drive out the sun emperor from our lands.”
“Impossible,” the knight scoffed. “There’s no way you could coordinate such an assault.”
“You southerners and your small minds. It must hurt to be so disconnected from the old ways.” The Chieftain raised a hand and swung it behind her, slapping against the carved designs of the wood.
Vhalla watched as the archway lit up with some sort of magic she’d never seen. It glowed faintly before fading. Nothing else changed.
“When will we be leaving?” The Western man seemed impressed enough with the display.
“We?” The Northern woman raised her eyebrows. “I never said ‘we’.”
Za drew an arrow from her quiver.
“No, no, you still need us.” The man stepped backwards nervously.
“We never needed you, and what usefulness you had has run its course.” The Chieftain caressed the wood behind her, glittering pulses lighting up from her fingers.
“We can help you. The Knights of Jadar are the allies of—” An arrow flew into the man’s mouth as he spoke, piercing straight through and out the back of his head. He fell to his knees, clawing at his neck, grasping at the arrow.
“We do not need you,” the Chieftain corrected. “Seven more sun falls and their army will know the might of my people, and we will be free to fight another day.”
Vhalla pulled back into her body as Za was notching a second arrow.
“Call the majors, now.” Vhalla pulled herself into a seated position. “Get your father,” she added begrudgingly.
“What is it?” Aldrik stood from his place at the desk where he’d been working, sans any form of drink.
“Time is now precious.” She was tired from her Projection, but Vhalla had a growing fear that rest would be a rarer commodity in the coming days. What did this mean for the Empire’s plans? Vhalla stood. “I’ll explain to everyone at once; it’ll waste time and effort to pass along the information one at a time.”
“It’s that urgent?” His words were heavy.
Vhalla nodded gravely.
She waited at Aldrik’s right hand, standing at the center of the table as majors filled the room. Most wore confused looks but didn’t question the will of the prince and heeded his messengers. The Emperor entered shortly after, his usual sour look overtaking his face when he saw Vhalla at Aldrik’s side.
“Why did you call a meeting?” The Emperor turned to his son.
“Vhalla has something to report,” Aldrik replied.
“Which is?” The Emperor didn’t seem pleased with Aldrik’s reply.
“I have yet to be filled in on all the details myself,” Aldrik confessed.
The Emperor stared at him blankly, and Vhalla realized how far her liberties with Aldrik had been stretched. She had made the crown prince call a meeting entirely on her word. He had bent everyone to her will with his power.
“Miss Yarl—” the Emperor started, interrupted by the entrance of Baldair and his Golden Guard.
“What is the meaning of this urgent meeting?” Baldair asked as he reached the table, looking to his brother.
“Aldrik does not seem to know entirely himself,” the Emperor said coldly. “I do hope it is important, Yarl. We are all too busy to play your games.” His eyes swung back to her, and she felt his threat.
“I am not playing games,” she said firmly. Now was not the time to back down, doubt, or show weakness, she reminded herself. She had previously been bold before the Emperor, and she could do it again. “The Northerners are planning an attack.”
“What?” The word exploded across the table.
“That’s preposterous,” Major Schnurr scoffed.
“I heard it with my own ears. Seven more sun falls, said the Chieftain of Shaldan,” Vhalla reported.
“Leaders lie to their people all the time.” The Emperor waved a hand.
“Do they?” Vhalla didn’t miss the opportunity for the slight jab, and the Emperor started in angry shock. Before he could recover she continued, “The Chieftain wasn’t speaking to her people. She was speaking to the Westerner who has been working alongside her on behalf of the Knights of Jadar.”
Whispers and uncertain looks rippled across the table. The majors still hadn’t known. It seemed pointless to keep it a secret now. Furthermore, secrecy hadn’t exactly been doing them much good.
“Lies! Lies and slander are all that can be expected from the Windwalker.” Major Schnurr slammed his fist on the table.
“Major Schnurr,” Aldrik nearly purred, taking a half-step closer to Vhalla. His fingertips brushed against the small of her back. “I would be very careful with your next words.”
“There was a Knight of Jadar working with them?” Erion frowned from across the table.
Vhalla nodded solemnly.
“I must send word home to my father,” Erion mumbled.
“Can I tell my uncle that we have the Le’Dans beside us against this menace?” Aldrik asked Erion.
“The Le’Dans are friends of the Windwalker.” Erion nodded at the prince and then at Vhalla.
Vhalla watched as Major Schnurr stilled at the far corner of the table.
“How are they coordinating such an attack?” Raylynn asked.
“Some type of magic.” Vhalla shook her head. “I’ve never seen it before. Something with the trees.”
“You’re sure?” another major asked her.
“I am.” Vhalla nodded.
“But if you don’t know the magic—”
“I am telling you all I know.” Vhalla placed both palms on the table, leaning forward. “There has been communication. There is an attack coming of a magnitude that the Chieftain thinks will overwhelm our army. They are cornered and dying. This is an act of desperation. The head clan plans to use the attack as a means to escape, to keep the North alive.” Vhalla swallowed hard, thankful and surprised her arms hadn’t begun to quiver. “So we can debate if we can trust my word, or we can decide what will actually be done.”
They all stared at her in stunned silence. Vhalla swallowed hard. The grizzled Major Zerian at her right began to laugh. Everyone turned to him slowly.
“It is a sorry day when a girl from a library puts the greatest military minds in their place.” He grinned at her, and she saw a crazy glint to his eye. “Then again, we all know by now you’re not just some library girl. Continue, Lady Yarl.”
Vhalla saw the look of shock the Emperor gave the major at his use of an honorific, and she nodded firmly.
“I think we should rush the palace before the time is up. We have been training, the army is ready, and I am ready to lead.” She swallowed. Had she just said that? “The Western spy had relayed our plans of attack, but we still have the advantage. We can put their leaders to the sword and torch their sacred forest.” Vhalla wanted to feel horrified with herself. But she’d reminded herself that it was what must be done, reminded herself so many times that she now believed it.
“We do not know what their attack will bring, but it will crush their morale if their support forces sees their sacred forest smoldering.” A few majors nodded in affirmation as she continued, “Plus, it will raise the morale of our soldiers, and if we must fight, we will be coming off a victory. Therefore—”
/> “That is enough.” The Emperor nearly shouted over her, and the entire table jumped in surprise.
Vhalla leaned away from the table. She pursed her lips and swallowed, her emotions swinging between hatred, anger, and fear.
“Have I not made myself perfectly clear? You are not here to speak strategy. You are here to bring me victory—that is why I let you live.”
A few surprised glances were shared at the Emperor’s words. Aldrik shifted to face his father.
“We will not be attacking Soricium prematurely,” the Emperor announced before anyone could get in a word.
“My lord.” Major Zerian was the bravest of them all. Aldrik seemed too shocked, still processing his father’s proclamation. “We have been training for weeks and this is our best chance.”
“We will endure the attack and continue the siege until I say otherwise,” the Emperor decided.
Vhalla stared in dumb horror. He was going against logic for the sake of spiting her? She reeled with loathing. This man cared nothing for his people, for the suffering of others. All he cared about was the perception of his power.
“I agree with Vhalla.” Aldrik had finally recovered.
The Emperor snapped his attention to his eldest son.
“I agree with her as well,” Daniel spoke in her defense also.
Vhalla stared at him in horrified appreciation of his boldness.
“I, too, agree with Lady Yarl,” Erion stood alongside his fellow Golden Guard.
“She is not a lady!” the Emperor seemed to have had enough, and Vhalla’s chest tightened at the man’s tone.
“She is in the West,” Erion said evenly. “Are you saying the West’s traditions do not matter, my lord?” There was a dangerous implication to his words.
“I would never say such a thing.” The Emperor shook his head, not wanting to be caught insulting the people whom he depended on to win his war.
“As I said, the Le’Dans stand with the Windwalker. I am honored to have her be a lady of my home,” Erion practically decreed.
Vhalla saw other nods, even from one or two of the Southerners. This seemed to only worsen the Emperor’s disposition on the matter.