“Everyone says that,” she laughed. What a wonderful sound. “I suppose we have quite a bit of catching up to do.”
Silas whooped again. “Drinks for everyone!”
The friends chatted, exchanging stories as the army set up camp around them. The sun fell behind the hills and a chill night stretched across the skies. Full moon white and stars bright, they sat around a campfire, passing ale and food with laughter and song.
“And so,” Silas continued with a flourish of his mug, “you should have seen the look on Isroc’s face when he first saw her, Cain! He looked like this!” he twisted his face into an impressive mix of awe and confusion, with eyes wide and tongue sticking out.
Kari, the slender, dark-haired woman sitting by Isroc, tittered with a hand to her mouth as Isroc groaned, face in palm. “Well,” he cut back, “you should have seen your face when you first saw her!” He thrust his mug out at Shara, who leaned against Silas and shared—or rather, ‘shared’—his drink. That one surprised Cain even more than Isroc and Kari. Silas had never been the type to settle down with a woman.
“I never stared!” Silas replied in defense.
“Only when she walked away!”
The group laughed at this, and Silas’ face grew that familiar shade of red whenever he’d been caught in a lie.
“Well, back to my story,” he continued. “So, there we were, atop the wall, back to back. We mowed down dozens of bad guys, hundreds even.” He made wide swings with his arms, spilling ale and nearly dumping a laughing Shara into the fire. “Together, Shara and I cut down all who dared come between us until at last they ran with their tails between their legs. And then I took her there atop the wall to the cheers of our armies!”
Shara took a pull from his mug. “That’s not quite how I remember it. In fact, I seem to recall you stubbed your toe on the wall and nearly got your head bashed in while you were cursing.”
Silas grunted as they laughed. “What’s a man got to do to get some love around here?”
He continued with his stories, punctuating important points with stabs and spins and kicks. Isroc occasionally chimed in, mostly to correct Silas’ more lavish tales. Kari sat beside him, straight and proper, but Cain found her gazing up at Isroc with big green eyes as she laughed with the others.
Mithaniel sat with his back to a wall, sipping on his mug as he listened to their stories. The others had been mistrusting of him before they’d gone their separate ways, but they’d seemed to come to some unspoken agreement—if Cain could trust him after all these months, then so could they. From the few bits Cain had gathered about his life as an Iscara, Mithaniel had probably had few, if any, of these simple moments around a fire with friends. He sat there soaking it all in, a smile on his normally somber face.
Adriel leaned against Cain on their little pile of rubble. She laid her head on his shoulder with her arm around his, content to simply watch.
Cain rested his head on hers and listened to Silas’ grand adventures. They’d certainly been busy: Adriel becoming leader of the Vilant and soon after queen of Charun, their freeing of tens of thousands of slaves, their liberation of Dun Ara and rescuing of Ethebriel, how Ada Arillius and King Vanthe had helped them discover Markadesh. Cain suspected that not all the stories were entirely truthful—not counting Silas’ usual embellishments, of course. The stories seemed to be broken, as if parts of them were missing. He probably left out the parts that were painful to talk about. Cain was fine with that. Tonight wasn’t about the pain.
He’d been so driven towards ending the war that he’d forgotten how important his friendships were. They were what grounded him, kept him sane after so many years of bloodshed. And he’d abandoned them.
He’d been so worried about hurting them, about leaving them behind, that he’d gone and done just that. He had planned to face Iscarius and end this war alone, to keep them safely away from him and what he could become. But here, around this fire under the stars, he realized that he couldn’t do it alone. He needed them. He’d needed them all along.
Cain wrapped an arm around Adriel. At long last, he finally felt whole.
Adriel gave a contended sigh as she watched Cain sleep. The air outside the tent was cool, but inside was warm with the heat of their bodies. Dawn’s pale blue trickled through the seams in the canvas, and already the sounds of the day’s preparations rose outside.
Adriel ran a gentle hand through Cain’s long hair. She’d loved the man for a long time, despite his thick-headed stubbornness. Maybe she loved him even more because of that. She’d sensed he cared for her too, but something had been holding him back. Pain, loss. She could understand that. She never suspected to live a day without the sorrow and guilt that came after the death of her sister. She had long since given up ever hoping for love.
But here it was. The day had come when she no longer felt any pain.
It had started as a warmth in her stomach that sent it flipping every time she looked into those dark, brooding eyes. It crammed all other emotions into some dark recess of her mind and left behind a tingling from her head to her toes.
So, this is what love felt like. She could get used to this.
Cain opened his eyes and smiled.
“Good morning sleepy head.”
In response, he drew her into a kiss. She felt light-headed, and her heart buzzed again with that familiar tingling.
“I have to apologize,” he started after a moment. “This whole time… I was in pain. I was angry. Vengeful. I—”
Adriel placed a finger on his lips. “I know.” She had suspected, though no one had ever been willing to talk about it. The way everyone grew quiet when the topic arose, the way Cain’s eyes grew distant. He had once had a wife. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want to leave you back at Seraphel, but that was the only way I could keep you safe.”
“And am I some prized vase to be kept on a shelf out of reach? To be admired but not touched?”
“Well, no…”
“It’s alright. You did what you thought was right.” She fought down that welling sense of fear. “It’s about Ceerocai, isn’t it?”
Cain nodded. “I couldn’t risk anyone I care about being too close to me. After what happened at Ekran… well, I thought it better if I faced Iscarius alone.” He grew quiet for a moment, gazing up at the canvas. “That’s what all of this will eventually come to, anyway. You know that. Our fight will determine the outcome of this war.”
Adriel scooted closer and laced her fingers through his. “Yes. But you don’t have to go it alone.”
“Oh, Adriel…” Cain returned her gaze. Was that a tear in his eye? Why was he so scared? They were together at last. They would lead their armies against Iscarius and take back the world. He should be happy!
Cain wiped his eyes and rolled over to rifle through a satchel. He found what he was looking for and held it out before her.
A small, wooden ring.
It was beautiful! Incredibly intricate, with tiny carvings of vines and lilies. Made of ash, it had an almost white hue which trapped shadows in every graceful line. Polished to a brilliant sheen, it practically glistened in the pale light.
By Kaanosi tradition, every man who sought the hand of a woman first had to prove he deserved her. Only after he had mastered a new craft or skill could he ask her the question…
“Will you marry me, Adriel Ivanne?”
Adriel gasped, hands to mouth. Was she crying? Stupid, stupid! Now was not the time for tears! “Yes! Yes, yes, of course!”
Cain beamed and slipped the ring onto her finger before wrapping his big arms around her with a kiss. She kissed him again and again, tears streaming down her face. No doubt she looked silly, but she didn’t care. She loved this wool-headed fool of a man!
“I know this is sudden, but we’ll have a proper ceremony after the battle is won,” Cain said eventually. “With good friends and food. We’ll celebrate our new life. Together
.”
Adriel sighed, laying her cheek atop Cain’s bare, muscled chest. “I don’t care if it’s sudden. It feels… right. And we don’t need a ceremony. This is perfect…” And it was. Bodies entwined, the warmth of a sunrise, the thump, thump of Cain’s heart like a drum’s beat in her ears. This was peace.
They lay there like that—Cain’s arms wrapped around her, her messy hair spread out across his chest—until the sun rose and the camp stirred to life. They laid there long after the sun climbed high.
They didn’t say anything, it was enough to just be in each other’s arms. But they both knew it couldn’t last.
They had a war to win first.
Cain stood, fur blanket slipping from his body. She made sure to watch him as he clothed. It was a shame he had to cover all that up. He smirked as he laced up his pants. She realized she’d been biting her lip.
“You’ll have to get clothed eventually too,” he chided. “You can’t lay around naked forever, no matter how much I wish otherwise.”
Adriel sat up, arms over her breasts. “I’m a queen now, in case you’ve forgotten. I can do whatever I want. Maybe I’ll become known as the Naked Queen.”
“Then the world would weep with joy, and there would be no more fighting.” He winked at her. “I think we’ve been going about this war all wrong.”
Adriel slapped his arm, dropping the blanket and exposing a bit more of herself than she’d anticipated. He turned to her, grinning. Oh, that look! Perhaps they could stay just a bit longer…
He must have thought the same, for he ripped his clothes off and threw himself at her, pinning her to the furs with a hand in her hair and a kiss on her chest.
After a whirlwind of frenzied passion, Cain was standing again, lacing up his leggings. He threw on his tunic, which hung looser than normal. She’d apparently ripped a seam sometime last night. “I’ll see you at the command tent; Ethebriel’s meeting should be starting soon.”
“I’ll be there shortly, it will take me a while to right this mess you’ve made of my hair.”
Cain only grinned that boyish grin of his and strode out the tent with a lingering last look.
Adriel hummed softly as she washed herself with a clean cloth. She found herself stopping to admire her ring more than once. She was married! To Cain!
She donned her queenly robe-like garments, the brilliant whites and silvers practically blinding in the dim light of the tent. She buckled her sword to her waist and set her crown atop her brow. With that fuzzy feeling still in her chest, she felt like she could take on anything.
She threw the tent flaps aside and breathed in the late morning air. She passed Vilant who stopped their work to bow and she returned their calls with smiles and waves.
Ahead, the command tent perched atop a mostly intact building to overlook much of the surrounding camp. Harin and another of her Royal Guards saluted and held the tent flaps open for her to duck under. She entered the pavilion-like tent which was sparsely furnished as was Ethebriel’s way: a large cot, a writing desk, a few chairs, and a large, circular table.
Reports and maps covered the tabletop, all pinned down by heavy scrolls and tomes. Everyone around the table looked up at her as she entered. Ethebriel, Isroc, Silas, Mithaniel, Shara, Kari. And Cain. Together, they were the hope of the Alliance.
“Glad you could join us,” Ethebriel greeted with a grin and a fatherly hug. “Congratulations,” he whispered, glancing down at her ring. She beamed up at him and the others in the room embraced her and Cain with a flurry of cries and well-wishes. Eventually, Adriel stepped beside Cain and held his hand, unable to do more than smile at him. She couldn’t afford to get lost in those dark eyes again.
“We had just started,” Ethebriel explained, “we were going over plans for our initial assault.”
Adriel scanned the map of Markadesh and the surrounding areas that Cain had somehow procured. It seemed an endless maze of deep ravines and towering mountains. It was an incredibly detailed map but that only seemed to highlight how difficult of a task they were facing. How could they ever hope to make it through all of this?
“As I was saying,” Isroc began, “there are three entrances into the valleys ahead.” He traced a finger down each valley mouth—one to the northeast of their position, one to the southeast, and one directly east. “We’ll have to split our forces into three armies if we’re going to fully rout the enemy. Each will have to successfully assault their separate valleys to ensure our victory. We will push through the valleys and meet here at the Crossing.” He pointed at a spot where all three valleys gathered in the heart of the mountains. “The fighting will likely be thickest here, but if we can push back their defenses, then we’ll have a straight shot to Markadesh.”
“I don’t relish the idea of splitting our forces,” Ethebriel said. “We don’t know the enemy’s numbers or their positions. We need to remain a potent force if we’re going to combat any threats they may throw our way.”
“We don’t have much of a choice, unfortunately. If we move as a single army down any one of these valley chains, then we’re only leaving our rear and flanks exposed for attack. Besides, a large army won’t be able to maneuver properly in those confined spaces.”
“Isroc’s right,” Cain said. “I don’t like the idea any more than you do but it’s our only option. We secure the valleys, then meet at the Crossing for an assault on the fortress.”
Isroc again traced a finger along the valleys, stopping where the paths narrowed or widened. “The Acedens will hold at various spots like tight passes or intersections. They won’t want to engage us all-out, but instead will likely choose to try and slow us down, chip away at our numbers, and buy their main army time to prepare for the inevitable siege. Going through these valleys will be a very slow… and very bloody process.”
“Why would they send their forces out to meet us?” Silas asked. “Wouldn’t it be better for them to just wait in the fortress where it’s safer for them?”
Isroc waved a hand over the large map. “This is far too much ground for them to just willingly surrender. Maybe an area of five hundred square miles or more. If they hide away in Markadesh, then we’ll easily be able to surround them, cut off their supply lines, and starve them out. And then we’d have their own ravines and mountains to use against them. No, they’ll want to engage us while they still have some advantages. Like I said, taking those valleys will be costly for us, and they’ll intend to make us pay for every inch of ground.”
Cain shook his head, gazing down at the fortress of Markadesh. “It still doesn’t make sense. Iscarius had Tarsha in his grasp. He had hundreds of thousands of men spread throughout every country… why pull them away? Why gather them here? And why now?”
The group drew quiet. All eyes turned to Mithaniel.
The Iscara blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been friends with Malecai for centuries,” Cain said, “surely you of all people would know what he must be thinking.”
Mithaniel shrugged. “I suppose he’s realized that he’s spread himself too thin; we warned him that would happen. The rebellion was meant to hit sudden and hit hard. His intention was to take control of Tarsha before the Alliance could muster much of a defense. It’s possible that the war has been protracted for too long and his forces are too divided as a result. He probably pulled his nearby armies to Markadesh so they could regroup and resupply. They’ll need to refocus their attention on Kaanos if they’re going to have any hope of retaking it. The other countries are worn down and broken; he likely assumes he can leave them somewhat unattended while he reclaims the South.”
Adriel thought on this for a moment. “I figured as much. But retreating to Markadesh only let himself be surrounded. Surely he wouldn’t have done so without a plan.”
“That’s the problem… he probably has a plan.”
“We could be walking right into a trap,” Silas muttered.
“Malecai never does anything without preparing for every
possibility,” Mithaniel replied.
Ethebriel leaned over the map, hands spread toward its corners. “We don’t have a choice, we’re committed now. We have a plan of attack. Now, who will be leading our forces?”
“You should lead,” Adriel said, “you are the wisest man I know. You have decades of military experience, and you are the king of many of these people.” The others nodded in agreement.
Ethebriel bowed his head. “I accept the burden. Do any of you have another option?” The group remained silent. “Very well, then I will lead the bulk of our forces down the middle valley.”
“Pardon,” Adriel replied, “but if you are to be our High Commander, it’s best if you stay behind the lines. We can’t afford to lose you.”
Ethebriel smiled. “And I suppose you will wish to lead them?”
Adriel glanced to Isroc. “No. I may be commander of the Vilant and queen of Charun, but I don’t have the experience the rest of you possess. Isroc should lead the main force under your direction.”
Isroc grunted. “You know I can’t—”
“We can’t afford to doubt ourselves any longer. You will do this. I know you can.”
Isroc made to reply but Kari’s hand on his arm quieted him. He turned to her, then simply sighed. “I will command the main force. Who will lead the other assaults?”
“I will lead the northern force,” Adriel said as she looked over the map. The northern valleys were much shorter and wider and led out onto a large plain before a swamp. “My Vilant are still green and won’t be able to best the Acedens in a head-to-head fight. The northern route looks to be the safest option for them as the field and wide valleys will allow them to maneuver easier and utilize their cavalry for support.”
“That means it will be easier for the enemy to defend as well. There’s only one path up to that field from the Crossing since this swamp here blocks off access to Markadesh. That gives the Acedens a direct route to you.”
The Shadow of War Page 39