"You mean to marry the prince to Alyssa," Deyneth said. It made perfect since. The Fairenthe family had been trying for many years to make a marriage pact between the two kingdoms. The Parnells had refused the notion, believing their sons and daughters capable of making their own matches.
Deyneth could have told them that such a thing could never last. Royal families were meant to marry their sons and daughters to those with the best prospects. It wasn't a pretty thought, but a true one. It was for the Kingdom.
She thought of little Alyssa though, learning the piano and learning the sword. She would learn both in Fairenthe as well, Deyneth was certain. If this woman, Marinthel, was a good example, women were allowed position there as well.
Still, the girl could end up unhappy.
"Yes," Sara interrupted suddenly, "Yes, that's it. They want to buy my daughter, my only daughter, my princess."
William looked slightly ashamed but ignored his wife, "We need the men, and the ships, and the coin. The Sols are a good family. It will be a good alliance for us."
It would marry the two kingdoms forever. That part was left unsaid, but Deyneth knew it to be true. Fairenthe would forever be part of Arinford, and the Sol family would rule both sides when the princess came to age. If Will were to die, that was. They were making the alliance on the idea that William's son had been killed already.
Deyneth turned to Rafinnel who had so far been silent. He was one of the three battle-masters beneath her on the field, and she held great respect for him. His face was carefully blank now though, and his hands were clasped gently in front of him.
Rafinnel had been close to the prince. They'd travelled together, Will training beneath him. It had been in a battle that Rafinnel had been stabbed and the prince taken. Since then, he'd changed. He'd become less certain of battles, and more dedicated to learning what there was to learn about prophecy and future.
Deyneth had allowed it because he needed time to heal, and it was good to learn while healing. She knew prophecies could be true but she had no idea why Rafinnel was so interested in them. Deyneth had cornered him one day to ask if he'd dreamt, but he'd told her he had not. She had no reason to suspect him of lying.
"What do you think of this alliance?" she asked now. Silence would not do on this particular council. It was a large decision that must be determined.
Rafinnel unclenched his jaw and looked at the King, and then at Sara. "I think we must take it," he admitted, "We are in need of ships at the last. Fifty-five could make the difference on the shoreline between here and Lamonte. We cannot afford to keep sending men through the mountains. It is too perilous."
William gave a slight nod to Rafinnel. They had been friends for a long time, and it could not be easy hearing the words from his friend, but they only cemented the idea that it was a necessity.
"You must give us time to consider this," Sara said, "She is my only daughter and she's still very young."
"She will not marry until she is of age," Marinthel said, "Until she is of age to bear a son. Till then, she will only be in our courts, learning our ways, as a valued guest and lady."
"You would take her to your court?" Sara asked. Her eyes shone brightly, "Before the marriage? Could she not stay here, and live out her engagement at home?"
"No," Deyneth said, "They must have her there as a ward. They must be certain we will not go back on our side of the contract."
Marinthel said nothing to Deyneth but to Sara, she said, "Your daughter will become a queen of our kingdom. She must learn what there is to learn. It is necessary that she return to Fairenthe, with me, when I return."
Sara let out a shuddering gasp and turned her eyes to Deyneth, silently pleading for help.
The king looked at his warlord as well, "What do you think of this alliance?"
Deyneth knew that Sara wished her to disagree. If Deyneth were to say no, the matter would be dropped. The King would listen to her. He always had. But she couldn't. She loved the Parnell family, but she loved the Kingdom of Arinford more.
She looked at William, "Make the alliance."
Once Sara had left the room, nearly in hysterics, alongside the dark-skinned Fairenthe people, William let out a slow sigh.
There was only him, Rafinnel, and Deyneth left now.
"There is something else we must discuss," Deyneth said. She'd been meaning to bring up the topic at the last few meetings but it would have to be brought up now. They were out of time.
William looked at her, waiting.
"We must decide what we are saying about Malevus," Deyneth said.
Rafinnel let out a low curse. He was the angriest of the situation because it had been him that had promoted to Commander. He'd trusted her with the position and later, he'd approved her plan to march to the castle. He had expected her to put a sword in Sullivan's heart. Instead she'd joined him.
They'd only found that last bit out recently. Until now, they'd believed her to be dead. That had been a bad blow to morale -- this was worse. One of their intelligence agents stationed in Sullivan's castle had reported that she was officially a part of the Lamonte army. As a commander.
Rafinnel blamed himself for it. He believed if he'd been well, it wouldn't have happened. That might be true, too. If he'd been well, he would never have returned to Arinford. He should have stayed with the troops, leading them himself. It did little good to place blame though. Deyneth knew that well.
"We can't let it get out that she's been named a commander for Lamonte," William said, "It will do little good."
"What of when she joins the battlefield?" Rafinnel asked, "What then? When she begins to slaughter our men?"
Deyneth shook her head, "We must kill her before that happens. The King is right. We cannot allow her presence to be known to the public. We are barely holding together public support right now. If this gets out, people will no longer believe the Gods are on our side."
"Are they?" William asked, "Are they on our side? Perhaps we've been forsaken."
Deyneth and Rafinnel both looked over at the King. Deyneth had never seen him look so morose.
"My son could be dead," William said, "I would be surprised to find out otherwise, and I have to marry my daughter into a family I've no love for. We are losing the war, and we are forced to threaten our citizens with death because they'd rather commit treason than allow us use of their land. Does it sound like the Gods love us?"
"The Gods have nothing to do with this," Rafinnel said, "We make our own futures, Your Majesty. We always have. With the reinforcements from Fairenthe, we will have the men we need to properly engage in this war."
William shook his head, "If we can get past the shore."
"I have an idea for that," Deyneth said, "I believe I know a way we can get past the shore and beat their defenses."
William shook his head, "They outnumber us, Delanu. We don't stand a chance at overpowering them."
Deyneth nodded, "When you cannot outnumber your enemy, or overpower him, what must you do?"
"Out think him," William said, "What is your strategy then?"
Deyneth shook her head, "I must finish it first, and then I will tell you. It won't be long now, with the help of the ships from Fairenthe. You must make a decision soon on your daughter so that we can have reinforcements."
William sighed, "Sara will never forgive me. She's always maintained that we must allow our children to pick their own spouses, as I picked her."
"When you married her, the kingdom was not at war, and you were not relying on her parents to give you the tools you need to defend Arinford," Deyneth said sharply, "If Sullivan takes Arinford, they will kill your daughter."
"I know," William said.
Rafinnel shook his head, "We need the reinforcements. We must go to Lamonte, we must kill the king, and we must rescue the prince. I do not believe your son to be dead, William. I believe he is alive."
William looked at Rafinnel for a moment, "Truly?"
"Truly," Rafinnel said.
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"I will make the alliance," William said, "I will not like it, but I will make it. Now, what are we to do about Malevus?"
"We must make sure all of our outgoing troops know she is their top priority and that the officers are well aware of how silent this must be kept," Rafinnel said.
William shook his head, "It will still get around. It doesn't matter if we tell them to be silent. Men will speak, and rumors will spread. It will get around."
"Then we must employ damage control," Deyneth said, "we must make sure that when the rumors do start to circulate that we have some kind of statement of our own. Something that will balance out the dismay people will feel. Does she have family?"
Rafinnel shook his head, "Her mother died when she was a child. Her father died of a heart attack during deployment."
Deyneth considered, "We must find out who she was close to. We need to know who was in her original troops, who she befriended. We need someone still alive, and still on our side of the war."
"You want to make a new hero," William said, "Someone to contest her."
Deyneth nodded, "It is our only option. If we can paint her as a traitor, it may help, but the only thing will truly help is if the people have someone new to worship. Who better than someone closer to her? That will give them doubt about her character."
Rafinnel nodded, "We ought to send word to Jones. He was the one who trained her, and the troops that deployed with her."
Deyneth nodded, "This is an immediate priority, but not as immediate as the alliance between the Parnell and Sol family, nor of the arrest of the Greywill family."
"What shall we charge them with?" William said, "How are we to hold them? We do not want people saying we are unfair or unjust."
"Ask your council," Rafinnel suggested, "They need something to do, certainly, so they believe they're actually useful."
Deyneth gave Rafinnel a sharp look, "They serve their purpose."
"So they do," Rafinnel said. He sighed once more. "I need to go and rest, Your Majesty."
He still wore the bandages from a wound more than a year back. It had been a terrible one, but the poison on the blade had been the part that had done the most damage. It had not healed as it should and it caused him plenty of pain, and continuously reopened.
So far, they'd been unable to come up with a solution that would heal the wound. It drained him of energy, and they'd been unable to solve that either. Deyneth had come up with a suggestion, but it had been immediately dismissed by the king.
"It would be too dangerous," he said, "even for my friend, my dearest friend, I cannot allow that creation in my kingdom."
Deyneth had reluctantly let the subject drop. There were few matters where the king was adamant, but amulets with stored energy was one of them.
"Go," William said with a wave of his hand, "Go and rest. You are dismissed as well, Delanu. I need time to myself. I must think. I must pray."
Deyneth nodded, pushing to her feet, "I will speak with you soon, Your Majesty. Battle-Master."
She let herself out and finally sighed. She rested against a wall, letting the different knowledge of the day wash over her. She thought of the king and the way he'd looked when he'd sent them from the room. He was older than his years. He was also depressed.
She would have to make sure he was still the king he needed to be, depressed or not. It was not a time for him to be weak, or a time for him to grief. She understood. She might not have a child of her own, but she understood, and she knew what he felt was only natural.
But the Kingdom was more important than his grief, or his son, or his daughter, or his wife. Deyneth had always put the kingdom first, and if that meant controlling the king, well... she always put the kingdom first.
EIGHT
Fortune, Death, and Danger Dare
STINI STOOD ON THE HILL, LOOKING AT Sumlin. It was a farming village set alone in Lamonte, unprotected on all sides. There couldn't be more than two hundred people within the walls. There had been more, of course, but the men -- boys and girls, really -- had been recruited to the Lamonte military. Stini had watched them ride out himself.
It was the first of the unprotected towns that Stini's men would be taking out. For the last fortnight, they'd monitored it, laying out plans. Nobody had been eager to discuss the best strategy for killing old, defenseless men, or children and their mothers. They'd done their duty, though.
"Sir," Rose said, coming up beside him. Stini ignored her. He couldn't stop thinking about how the night would play out. It was going to be bloody. The thought made him feel nauseated but there was nothing he could do about that. He couldn't take it back. He'd given a speech.
So instead he took a drink from the flask at his waist. It helped calm him a bit. He realized Rose was watching him, but he ignored that too. She could think what she wanted. He was certain by morning, she'd be drinking too.
"Do you think they'll beg?" he asked suddenly, "The children?"
"Sir," Rose said again. Her face was pale, the color high only in her cheeks. "Please don't."
Stini sighed. The question had slipped out. "Sorry."
"It's..." Rose shook her head and then forced the words out. "It's alright. We knew this would be hard. I came to tell you that the men are ready."
"Good," Stini said. "Let's go."
He followed her back to where his men were waiting. They were only going to take half their numbers. There was no reason for them all to go. It was going to be an easy mission; their easiest, and somehow their most difficult.
Aeliana was waiting for him. She looked less pale than Rose. Stini was glad she'd be the one riding at his side. She was strong, she could handle it. She would do her duty. She might not like it, but it would get done.
She looked at him now, "Are you sure about this?"
The question had been asked quite a bit over the last ten days. Stini had always answered yes. He was sure. This is what needed to be done. Now though, he was sure only one thing: he wanted her to ask him to stop. He wanted anyone to ask him to call it off. He wanted someone to beg him to see reason, to see that this was wrong. It was so wrong.
If that happened, he knew he would stop this madness. It would only take one person, one request. But nobody said anything. Aeliana just met his eyes, waiting for him to answer the same way he'd answered every time before. He didn't disappoint her.
"Let's go then," Aeliana said. She put a hand briefly on Stini's shoulder and then turned toward the men who'd be accompanying them. "What we're going to be doing tonight is not going to be easy," she told them, "it will probably be one of the most difficult things you'll ever do. Just remember -- this was caused by Sullivan. This is his fault. Every death tonight rests on his shoulders."
"He's not here," a voice called out. It cracked a little. Stini couldn't bring himself to look and see who'd spoken up.
Aeliana nodded, "He's not here. That's true. But he did this, nonetheless. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. The deaths that happen tonight and the deaths that will continue to happen, they could be stopped. When Sullivan stops sending men to Arinford to slaughter our people? Then we stop. Then we lay down our weapons."
"What about our souls?" the same person asked.
Stini spoke up, saving Aeliana from answering. He was afraid of what she might have said. "Our souls?" he repeated. "Are they not a sacrifice worth making? The souls of eight hundred men? We can stop this war. Sullivan can't recruit from a kingdom terrified of sending their people away. We can do this. But sacrifices must be made. I'm willing to give up my life, and my soul."
Nobody responded to that. Stini shook his head, "I don't want to do this either," he admitted. The words almost stuck in his throat but he pushed them out, knowing it was both wrong and right, "We don't have a choice. So let's go."
Aeliana had planned a longer speech, one meant to inspire and comfort the men, but Stini didn't want to hear any more. He couldn't. His nerve was shaky at best. Instead, he drew his sword and started towa
rds the village. For a moment, he didn't think anyone would follow. Then he heard the sounds of weapons being drawn and footsteps following him.
Aeliana took her place at his side and together they pushed open the gates to the city.
"Why are you doing this?" The woman was young, barely older than a teenager herself. She was pretty and vivacious. If she'd been single, she would have gone to fight. But Stini had found her baby in the other room. It was a small thing, red and wrinkly. It would have been the baby's father sent to war.
"I'm sorry," Stini told her, "This isn't what I wanted to do when I joined the Guard but we have to stop this war."
The woman shook her head, "I'm a farmer's wife! That's all! I'm not part of the war. You have to believe me. I'm just a farmer's wife!"
"Where is your husband?" Stini asked gently, "is he out tending the field?"
He saw something flash in her eyes. Fear, perhaps, "Yes," she squeaked out. "He's just out tending the field. You have to believe me."
Stini shook his head, "He went with the other recruits. He'll be training to fight right now. Training to go to Arinford. Training to fight for Sullivan."
"It's not his fault!" the woman cried out. "It's not! You don't understand what they do to people who refuse. They'd have killed me, and our baby, and then him. He had to go fight, to protect us. It's not his fault! Please!"
"I understand," Stini said, and he did. He thought of his wife, his beautiful wife, older than this girl, but still beautiful. He thought of their children. He still remembered their screams.
He was from Serjya originally, one of the first of the small kingdoms captured by Sullivan. The people had been forced to swear fealty to their new king, while the blood of their old one was still drying. Stini was a smart man. He understood what needed to be done. He'd taken his family and they'd sworn themselves loyal.
But his wife hadn't been able to stay her tongue. She was never good at keeping quiet when something bothered her and eventually, she'd slipped and insulted the Black King publicly. One of his officers -- Samuel Frien -- had taken her head for it, but only after he'd taken the heads of their children.
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