by Erin Beaty
“That proves nothing,” she said. “It could have been put there to blame me.” Sage was actually enjoying herself. The only thing she felt bad about was Nicholas’s fear. She squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I gain nothing from the king’s death. As you pointed out, I have lost my chance to become Casmun’s queen.”
“You act incredibly unconcerned, Mistress Saizsch.” Sinda turned to face the council. “Is that because you know your country is coming to your rescue? Is that why four hundred Demoran troops are on their way to Osthiza right now?”
Sage saw her opening to turn the focus on Nicholas a little. “If so, it would appear they are a little too late to save my brother and me.”
Sinda snorted. “Your brother?” He looked back to her. “Or your prince?”
A ripple of murmuring broke out among the council. Nicholas paled even more, and Sage squeezed his fingers again. The less she said, the more Sinda would have to reveal what he knew.
“I learned this in questioning the Kimisar man who followed them into Casmun,” Sinda told the men around the table. “Something General Calodan could not be bothered to investigate, I might add.” The minister of war’s face went purple with rage, and Sinda raised an eyebrow at Sage. “Do you not deny Nikkolaz is the son of your king? That he was sent into Casmun to give your country an excuse to invade?”
“Those are two questions with different answers.”
“You will answer for your treason!” shouted Sinda.
Darit had been standing by the double doors to the chamber; now he turned around to unbolt them.
“I committed no treason, Minister,” Sage said, dropping Nicholas’s hand and stepping forward. The room was so riveted no one noticed the doors opening. “Unlike you, I have no duty to Casmun or its king.”
His face triumphant, Sinda shook his head. “No, but you will stand trial for the king’s murder. As will Nikkolaz.”
The familiar silhouettes in the doorway brought a smile to Sage’s lips.
“That will be rather difficult,” said Banneth.
100
THE ONLY THING better than Minister Sinda’s face when he saw Banneth was when he recognized Alex standing beside him. They strode into the room together, Alex three steps behind the king, as the council erupted in shouts. Several ministers fell out of their chairs and to their knees, thanking the Spirit. Sinda’s complexion took on a greenish cast, which only worsened when Lani came to stand by Sage.
Banneth had cleaned up and changed, looking imposing and in complete control, unlike anyone else in the room. When the chaos had died down and everyone was back in their seats—except Sinda, who was rooted to the spot—the king called the council to order.
“Gentlemen,” he said, then paused to nod to Lani and Sage. “As the full council is present, I invoke an emergency judgment trial, for the good of the nation, that we may resolve this matter quickly and decisively.”
No one objected. Sage imagined they were still too shocked to understand what was happening.
“At any time, any member may call for a judgment that will end the proceedings if the vote is unanimous in favor of guilt or innocence. The accused is allowed to call any witness in his defense until such a judgment is made.”
“Palandret,” said the minister of roads weakly. “Who is on trial and what are the charges?”
“Dev Sinda stands accused of treason, conspiracy, and attempted assassination of a sovereign. I am sure we could add bribery, but those will do.”
“I object,” said Sinda, finding his voice. “I will never vote in favor of my guilt—this trial is nullified.”
Banneth had anticipated that. “The minister of finance is engaged to marry the Princess Alaniah. By law, such a close relationship to the royal family removes him from his post. Dev Sinda is no longer a voting member of this council.”
Before Sinda could protest that a full council no longer existed, Lani spoke up. “I nominate Darit Yamon for the vacant position of minister of finance.”
“As king, I have the right to make an interim appointment,” said Banneth. “Darit Yamon, do you accept?”
Darit bowed. “Yes, Palandret.”
“So be it.”
Guards appeared on either side of Sinda, stripping him of the knife he carried and searching him for more weapons. Sage was speechless at how well coordinated everything had been.
“Now,” said Banneth, taking his seat at the head of the table. “I suggest we begin with my first two witnesses, as one isn’t likely to live much longer.” The doors were opened and four guards entered with the dolofan. At the look of hatred from the Kimisar clutching his bloody stomach, Sinda panicked and bolted for the door, but the guards were faster. In one last stroke of justice, it was Alex who produced a set of shackles to hold the accused.
The first and only vote was held an hour later.
* * *
Casmuni law required a full day between sentencing and execution. Two mornings later, Dev Sinda was led to the block in the market square in front of the prison. Though Lani looked calm and regal as ever, she was on the verge of collapse, and Sage had her arm around her friend’s waist to support her.
The charges of conspiracy, treason, and attempted assassination of a sovereign were read aloud and the verdict and sentence announced. Sinda stood silently, his shackled wrists hanging in front of him. His unkempt hair and lined face no longer looked handsome and distinguished, but rather cold and calculating.
Banneth stepped forward, and the crowd sighed in audible relief. Despite the immediate shutting down of the palace, rumors of his assassination had spread quickly, and people were glad to see for themselves they weren’t true. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the king said.
Sinda then turned his eyes to Sage and Nicholas. “Do give the Kimisar my regards when you return home.”
The dolofan had failed, but the smug look on Sinda’s face made Sage sick to her stomach. “Wait!” she shouted in Casmuni.
The executioner froze with his harish in the half-begun swing and looked to Banneth, who held up his hand to indicate he should halt. Sinda rotated his head from the block and looked up at her. “Yes, my dear?” he said mockingly.
“You sent the order for the garrison to stand down as soon as you thought the king was dead, didn’t you?” she said. “The pass is open.”
Or it would be within days.
Sinda only smiled. “Bas medari, Saizsch Fahler.”
He turned to resettle his neck on the block. “Let’s get this over with.”
101
THE DEMORANS ARRIVED in Osthiza that evening to find a city in an uproar. Banneth was organizing as many troops as possible to march the next morning for the pass to the west. The distance was far, but the desert ground was solid enough that a road linked the capital to the fortress. Seven days was considered the minimum time needed. Banneth planned to do it in fewer than five.
The king was busy, so Sage, Nicholas, and Alex rode out to meet the Demorans as they set up camp on the plain outside the city gates. Ambassador Gramwell was there as Sage expected, but she was surprised to see Clare next to him. Alex stepped up to Colonel Traysden and saluted formally before requesting permission to report. While he explained everything to the ambassador and officers, Clare filled Sage in on what had happened on the Demoran side.
That Sage and Nicholas went into Casmun was known within a day. When Alex and two volunteers had gone into the desert after them, Casseck returned to a camp occupied by Colonel Traysden, who assumed command of the Norsari. While dispatches went flying to the capital, the Demorans pursued the Kimisar to the foothills of the Catrix, where they crossed into Casmun, and the Norsari did not follow. Extra troops came across Jovan in case the Kimisar came back, but the Norsari and the unit Colonel Traysden brought headed for Vinova, anticipating permission from Tennegol to go after Nicholas the long way around. As soon as they had the authority, the ambassador and almost all the soldiers at Vinova headed south. Thanks to
what Sage and Clare had learned, the Demorans never considered trying to cross the desert.
Everyone finished their stories at about the same time, and they all stood looking at one another for a minute. Colonel Traysden cleared his throat. “Captain Quinn, I hereby formally return command of Norsari Battalion One to you. It was my honor to serve as commander in your absence.”
Alex saluted, and Sage could see he was holding back tears. The colonel returned the salute, and the moment was over.
“So, Captain,” said Traysden after the officers took turns shaking Alex’s hand and welcoming him back. “When do we leave for the pass?”
* * *
They returned to the palace with Ambassador Gramwell, Clare, their retinue, and the news that the Demoran soldiers would march with them in the morning. Banneth took one look at the Demoran horses and insisted on providing Casmuni mounts for the officers, saying the lighter, slender breeds they rode would be more reliable on a journey across the desert. Alex looked a little insulted, but he acknowledged the Demoran horses were exhausted from pushing so hard to get to Osthiza.
Lani offered her white stallion to Sage, and when that was translated for Alex, he shook his head. “You’re staying here with Nicholas.”
Sage crossed her arms. “Who’s going to choose your meals and underclothes if I’m not there?”
Alex opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it shut and exhaled through his nose, frowning.
“I’m going to have to watch you ride away for years, Alex,” she said, stepping close to him and lowering her voice. “I’ll be damned if I do it when I don’t have to.” She put a hand on his crossed arms. “I’ll stay back from the fighting, I promise.”
He sighed. “Is this the wrong time to tell you how much you remind me of my mother?”
“Is that an attempt to dissuade me?”
“Only if it works,” he said, dropping his arms and planting a kiss on her forehead.
Ten minutes later, Clare committed to coming, too. “Sage can’t be out there alone,” she said. “Think of her reputation.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but didn’t even try to object.
They left at first light, but instead of heading directly for the road west, Banneth led them south, to a mountain of stone on the horizon. Outside an entrance carved into the rock, a wagon was being loaded with clay pots sealed with wax. Each time a vessel was put down, a man wrapped cloth around it, presumably so they wouldn’t bang against one another while riding. “What’s this?” Sage asked Banneth.
“Come, I will show you,” he said, dismounting. “Bring Ah’lecks and his top men.”
Sage signaled to them, and they gathered around a pot that had cracked and been set aside. Banneth picked it up carefully and gestured for everyone to stand back, then dropped it on the ground so it broke open. Among the shattered pottery was globs of what looked like apple jelly. The king poured a little water in his hand and sprinkled it over the mess. When the drops touched the jelly it sizzled and flamed for a few seconds.
“It is an ancient weapon most Casmuni do not even remember we ever possessed,” said Banneth as Sage translated. “Water is what makes the flame. You must never touch it. Even the sweat on your skin is enough to set it off.” The king took another step away from the pot and jelly and squeezed a stream of water on it. Flames leapt up, making everyone jump back. As they watched, the heat of the fire melted the sand and stone around it into black glass.
“We call it dremvasha,” said Banneth.
Waterfire.
“Is it made with oil?” Sage asked, and Banneth nodded. “So if you put this on water, it will float and spread?”
“Yes.” Banneth slung his waterskin back over his shoulder. “It was done once before, many years ago. The devastation lasts to this day.”
Sage watched the liquid jelly slide down the glass until it reached more sand, which it melted in a lengthening trail. Corporal Wilder had described the desolate canyon on the border with Casmun as steep and smooth with sides like jagged broken glass. Deadly. This was what had done that. “Yanli Gorge,” she whispered, and Banneth nodded.
Alex looked at her questioningly, and she explained to him and the others. He shook his head in awe. “Sage, the oldest maps labeled Yanli as a plain. That gorge wasn’t just melted, the entire thing had to have been formed by this. All forty miles.”
As they mounted their horses and moved on with the loaded wagons, Sage looked back to see the flames were still burning.
102
THE CASMUNI AND Demorans arrived at the pass five days later to find the fortress built into the cliff abandoned. For now, Alex and Banneth were less concerned about where those men had gone than with setting up their defense. The king led the way through the gap in the rock wall, which was only wide enough for five mounted men to stand across. A few dozen yards beyond that, however, the passage suddenly widened into a bowl-shaped area large enough to hold about a thousand men before narrowing again.
Alex studied the curved edges of the bowl. The almost-perfect circle didn’t look natural. At his question, the king replied that it had been deliberately mined as a quarry centuries ago to form the shape. The idea was to create a place for the first line of defense. If that failed, the invaders still had to go through the Neck, as the outer narrow gap was called, where the Casmuni would have a second chance to defeat them with the land.
“But that means the men fighting in here can be trapped, unable to retreat,” said Alex.
Banneth nodded. “That is the trade we made for two places to stop the enemy—one place that may also stop us. But the loss would not be great. Only a few hundred.”
It was a good space to fight with the number they’d brought, but there was no one outside the pass to back them up. “Do you think we made it in time?” Alex asked. His biggest fear had been arriving only to see the tail end of the Kimisar army, headed north.
Banneth gestured to a spot on the ground where the sand had a flowing look. “The river here has only recently dried up. If they had passed through in the last week, we would see it there.”
Next to them, Colonel Traysden nodded his agreement. He’d come along with his own unit, which was small for his rank, but he made no move to interfere with how Alex commanded the Norsari. “Where do we use the waterfire?” Traysden asked.
The king led them out of the bowl and deeper into the pass, where it was wide enough for ten armed men to walk abreast. After about a quarter of a mile the pass had several snakelike bends. He stopped and pointed up to the rock ledges partway up the almost-sheer sides of the canyon. “Here, I think. If we can drop enough fire on their heads while they are backed up trying to enter the bowl, perhaps they will retreat.”
Alex nodded. Not a bad plan for ten to one odds.
103
SAGE AND CLARE were left to themselves while the soldiers prepared. The number of men seemed pathetically small when Sage considered how many thousands were likely to come through the pass. More Casmuni soldiers would eventually arrive in support, but if the Kimisar came in the next three or four days, the force here was all there was between them and Demora.
Crates were constructed to hold the pots of dremvasha, and they were hauled up and along a ledge that ran the length of the pass about forty feet up. Barrels of water were placed nearby for setting the waterfire ablaze. Scouts ventured deeper into the pass, looking for signs of Kimisar on the march, but between the narrowness and frequent bends, it was difficult to see ahead in most places. Depending on how fast the messengers could run, there would only be a few hours’ warning.
Alex was almost healed from his time in the dungeon, which was a relief, as he would’ve fought no matter his condition. He told Sage and Clare that when the time came, their place was at the high watchtower of the fortress, and Sage fully intended to obey that—when the time came.
Their second day passed slower than any she could remember. Every noise made them jump, and her hand ached from constantly gripping the hil
t of her sword. The men, too, were irritable and snapped and argued over the most minor of slights. Lieutenant Casseck had to break up two men before they came to blows. When night fell, she sat under the stars with Alex in the bowl, ready to fall asleep on his shoulder from being so tense all day. “Is it always like this?” she asked. “Before a battle?”
“Pretty much,” he said. “It’s why some men charge in to a fight when they’re at a disadvantage. They’re too impatient to wait for the better moment.”
“Thinking before I act isn’t my strength,” said Sage. “I don’t think I’d make a very good soldier.”
Alex nuzzled her hair with his nose. “Love, you are one of the bravest, fiercest people I know.” He kissed her head. “And that is truth.”
There were few higher compliments he could offer. Sage wasn’t sure she had the kind of bravery needed on the battlefield, though.
Alex suddenly leapt to his feet, nearly knocking her over. Shouting echoed out of the pass, and all around them soldiers were standing up, including Lieutenant Gramwell, who’d been sitting with Clare not far away. Alex helped her up, and she resisted the urge to hold on to his arm in case he needed to draw his sword. Two men came flying out of the gate of stone. One dropped to his knees, panting, and the other bent over and vomited from running so hard.
“They’re coming,” the man on the ground gasped. “They’ll be here by sunrise.”
Everyone was moving in a matter of seconds. Alex swept Sage close with an arm around her waist and kissed her. “This is it,” he said. “Go to the fortress. Watch everything. If we fail, you and Clare have to get back to Osthiza and tell everyone what happened.”
“You mean just leave you here?” Sage cried.
“Yes.” He pressed his forehead to hers as orders were shouted around them in two languages. “Promise me, Sage. I can’t focus down here unless I know you’ll be safe.”
She nodded reluctantly, and he kissed her again, slowly this time, like he had all the time in the world. Then Clare was pulling on her hand, and they were running to the horses already being saddled for them. Sage led the way back through the Neck, hearing the reports of readiness behind them. Outside the canyon, they hooked around to the right and into the shelter of the fortress. She didn’t want to leave the horses saddled—it felt like expecting defeat—but she’d promised Alex they’d be ready to flee.