Countless chances had been given to her, but she wouldn’t compromise on anything. He had even given her the chance to institute any policies she wanted, but she had been too intent on rejecting him, rejecting the whole Naufren class to actually listen and negotiate. What did she expect them to do, give up their lands and their positions, simply hand them over to a bunch of field hands? That wasn’t even close to reasonable. Now she was driving him to act and he needed to do so with brutality. It was the only way to deal with an enemy who insisted on being unreasonable. His tolerance couldn’t extend forever—it was already stretched well beyond anything he would have given anyone other than her.
Ringing the bell on his desk, he called his manservant to him. It took a few moments for the man to arrive.
“My lord,” he said in his usual, calm voice.
“Take this down to the clerks and have them make as many copies as they can. Have them work through the night. I want every man, woman and child in the citadel to have a copy tomorrow, including every single man in Ashra’s employ.”
Left alone again, Roisen dropped the pen down on the desk. It was time to let everyone know what the stakes were. Tomorrow, resolve would waver and discord would start in Ashra’s ranks. It was the beginning of the end for her. The men had too much to lose. It was Ashra that had made an all or nothing fight out of this. That being the case, he would end up with all, and she with nothing. Then he might revisit the wants and desires of the man over the liege.
Chapter 28
ASHRA WAS EATING the same porridge as everyone else for breakfast. It was good enough for her if it was good enough for her soldiers. It had been a long time since she’d had porridge. It had been the staple of her childhood and it provided the energy for a long, hard day.
Bryce appeared and he slapped a piece of parchment down on the table. “He’s threatening us,” he said, his anger barely contained.
Still chewing, Ashra grabbed the parchment and read it. Each word seemed to get worse and worse, and she stopped chewing.
“He is threatening our families,” Bryce said, pacing. “He isn’t any better than Raufasger was.”
“This is for me,” she said. “It’s my lands he’s referring to.”
“This isn’t just about you. It’s about all of us.”
“I know that.”
“They threw them all over the courtyard, all over the fifth level exit. At least a hundred copies.”
They would be circulating around and everyone had probably already seen Lorcan’s message, just like he intended. The question was what this threat would do. Lorcan’s intent was to scare the people, and it would succeed—he was threatening their families’ wellbeing. It would send a chilling effect through her whole army.
“They threaten and coerce. He is no different from Raufasger. We do what he says or he runs through with his army and devastates us. Nothing is going to change. We won’t stand for this.” Bryce’s ire was growing and growing. “They’re not going to give us anything. They’re going to keep us starving and beatdown so we’ll always be pliant while they steal everything for us.”
Higgins appeared at the door.
“What?” Ashra said, probably a little sharper than she’d intended to.
“We have desertions,” Higgins said. “The men fear that Lorcan’s troops are descending on their villages.”
“They bend everything to suit them,” Bryce continued. “Won’t even fight a war properly without threatening the people who are least able to defend themselves. We can defend ourselves, so they attack our dependents—old men, women and children.”
“This is done to rattle us,” Higgins said.
“Are you sure? Are you sure his troops aren’t actually riding on our villages? How can we trust a man who threatens to do so? He’s basically saying he’s going to burn our villages to the ground. Kill our children.”
“He didn’t say that,” Ashra pointed out.
“Are you defending him now? Do you defend this behavior?”
“Of course I’m not.” Again Ashra had to keep hold of her anger. There was only one child he was interested in. “He does not kill children, only people who stand in his way.”
“Like us.”
“Yes, like us. We did sign up to fight against him.”
It was disappointment that lay in the heart of Ashra’s anger. It would perhaps be a stretch to say surprise, because she knew he had this in him, that ruthless streak that made him do what was necessary to get what he wanted.
“What do we say to the men?” Higgins asked. “What do we say to bolster them?”
“While Lorcan’s forces are attacking their families?” Bryce demanded.
“We don’t know if he will carry through on that threat,” Ashra said. How she wished she could say that with some surety, but she couldn’t. Lorcan was capable of doing anything he deemed necessary. He respected viciousness, even if he wasn’t someone who took glee from it like Raufasger had. Lorcan was pragmatic and ruthless, not insane, but that was cold comfort to anyone who got in his way.
This was exactly what they were fighting against. All his words about how he was going to be fair and just. It was fair and just as long as everything was done his way. Bitter disappointment spread like a bad taste in her mouth.
Higgins cleared his throat. “His men are going to come soon. They will aim to take ground today, maybe even break us if they can. The men need some assurance.”
Assurance was hard to give, the stakes were now that they would suffer if they lost. That had probably been the case all along. Lorcan had just pointed it out in no uncertain terms.
Bryce bristled. “We have to continue to fight. We can’t let them win. We’ll be under their boots forever if we do. We’re in the citadel, and we are not budging until they give us the concessions we want.” He had a tendency to view them as a class rather than as simply Lorcan, because he believed one Naufren liege would be as bad as another. “I will speak, we must rally and we must fight harder than ever before.”
Leaning back in her chair, Ashra brought her hand up to her mouth. Bryce was right. If they failed at this, Lorcan would take revenge because the courtiers would insist on it. To keep his position, to be seen as the strong leader, he would have to. It was the very notion she had used to damage him. That notion would also make his vengeance spread far and wide.
Bryce was also right that this wasn’t a fight between him and her. It wasn’t a single person she was fighting; it was a fight between the Naufren as a whole versus the Solmnites. They weren’t going to negotiate; they weren’t going to make concessions. In a way, Lorcan’s hands were tied. The Naufren had the land, the economic and political power. This was as close as they were ever going to get to affecting change, but the Naufren didn’t want change. As soon as the threat wasn’t knocking on their door, they would want revenge.
“I’ll talk to every single person if I have to,” Bryce said. “We cannot waver now.”
“No,” Ashra stated. Bryce turned to her with astonishment. “We’re not going to fight anymore. We’re going to act in kind.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s time to strike into their very heart.” Ashra rose. Adrenalin coursed through her body. “We will treat them the same way they treat us. Let the men run home. We’re burning the citadel.”
There was silence in the room for a moment.
“Burn it?” Bryce said.
“The whole damned thing.”
“Just set fire to it?” Higgins said. “Every resource in the land has gone into building this.”
Ashra turned to him. “Is it something worth keeping? Is there anything here worth keeping? It’s a mausoleum to Raufasger. It is the seat of their power and we’re going to burn it to the ground. The whole damned thing.”
“Yes!” Bryce said, excitement shining out of his eyes. “A fire big enough, there is nothing that would stop it. It will burn into the very sky.”
“Send all the men home, Mr
Higgins. Send them out of the castle and we’ll start burning.”
“Are you sure?” the uncertainty was clear in the older man’s face.
“Yes. We will do to them what they threaten to do to us. There’s a certain justice in that, isn’t there? Tell the men to evacuate out of the castle. Release all the prisoners. We start burning in an hour. A band will have to remain to spread the fire.”
Ashra supposed it didn’t matter now if the spies learnt of it. Nothing mattered now. This was ending. What rose from the ashes remained to be seen, but they could negotiate then—or not, but they would not be threatened; they would not be subdued. And Lorcan was going to get that message in flames.
Both Higgins and Bryce left with utmost urgency to go prepare. Ashra turned to the window that looked out over the vast bulk of the citadel. A tinge of sadness pierced through her. Her apartments would burn—not that it bothered her, but it was a remnants of her life with Torunn. What would he think of what she was doing? Would he hate her? He was a Naufren and would be expected to fight her. His things would now burn, along with everything else.
Change never happened without a moment of doubt. Fear of the unknown befell even those who suffered from the old ways. Lorcan had fallen back on the old ways and it was time to tell them no more of this.
From her vantage point, she could see her men retreating from the courtyard. For a while, Lorcan would have his ground, his gains. It didn’t matter now. They were burning down the battlefield. The enemy just didn’t know it yet and gloried in their gains, unaware that things had already changed dramatically. They weren’t playing this game anymore.
Turning around, she looked at her desk. There was nothing here to save. There was nothing to save at all. Raufasger had stripped the land of every bit of strength to build this monstrosity, and the people who dwelled in it thought it had power.
If they started at one end, the fire would spread naturally. There was so much fuel to burn, it would take time to reach the other end, enough time for everyone to get out.
Shifting to the other end of the apartments, she looked out and saw men fleeing out of the gates below and into the valley. Had Lorcan seen them yet? Did he think it was his message? Well, it was his message, but executed in a different manner than he’d be expecting. And he didn’t yet know there was nothing he could do. This place was too vast for anyone to stop the burning once alight. Had Raufasger never considered that?
Chapter 29
SMOKE CAME FIRST, creeping into every space like a malevolent spirit, unseen but unmistakably there. The fighting had turned into a mess. Ashra’s lines completely folded and imploded, it was difficult to find an enemy to engage. Ashra was utterly defeated, her men fleeing the citadel like rats off a sinking ship. But the smoke lingered.
Roisen was there when they found the first fire, the men worked hard to quell it, but the smell of smoke only intensified.
“There are more fires,” a returning scout informed him. “They’re lighting them deliberately. Everywhere.”
Roisen’s eyebrows drew together and he finally closed his eyes. They weren’t retreating from the battle. This was deliberate. They were fleeing their own flames. “Quell the fires,” Roisen ordered.
His men caught a few of the perpetrators, but there were too many of them and too much of their despicable work. There was too much fuel for the fire, which spread relentlessly in its voracious appetite. There was nothing to stop it, and the structures were too closely built. A firebreak was impossible. There really wasn’t anything to stop this fire. It would engulf the whole citadel.
There was nothing to do but to order his men to retreat, before the fire worked around them and trapped them. Endless corridors served the fire as well as men.
What he really wanted to know was where Ashra was, but it was too dangerous to stay. If she succumbed to her own fire, there would be a justice in that. Urgency wiped away any thoughts of justice. Roisen marched away from this part of the building. He had no idea how long it would take for the citadel to completely succumb. It wasn’t built to withstand a substantial fire, a major flaw in its construction, but the Raufasger had thought himself invincible—even against the elements of nature.
The citadel was going to burn to the ground. There would be nothing left. With it burnt the very foundations of their society. The central point of their power was in flames.
News of the fire had spread, which wasn’t surprising as flames now reached into the sky and acrid, black smoke blocked out the sun. Panic had spread, people rushing around.
“Hurry,” a man said, urging his manservant who was weighted down with bolts of silk. A woman was carrying her jewelry box as they hurriedly made their way down the stairs, preparing to flee.
It was them that ended up fleeing like rats, carting away everything they could carry. Some would die trying to save their luxuries.
Fiedra was standing in his apartments, wearing a broad-skirted silk dress, her hair elaborately dressed.
“What shall we do?” she asked, worry written in her eyes. Roisen wasn’t sure he’d actually seen her worried before. “You must stop this fire.”
“There is no stopping the fire.”
“It will destroy everything. You are the liege.”
“I can’t stop this fire. No one can. Go home,” he said. “There is nothing that can be done for the citadel. I suggest you change into something more practical, save what you must and flee. Don’t linger. Once the fire comes, it will be merciless, and you don’t want to be caught up here. It will travel fast.”
For a moment, it looked like she wanted to argue; he could see the accusation in her eyes that he had failed them, but thought better of it. In the end, she lifted her skirts and left without a word. There was nothing else to do and fruitless to express their outrage. Ashra and her army meant to change the world and they were prepared to burn everything to do it.
The land’s riches had been invested in this citadel and now it was simply burning. It was hard to imagine that power could burn, but it really was. The Naufren would be isolated in their lands without a means of acting as a unit. They’d never invested in any other structure, physical or political, than the citadel.
Ashra had won. There was no way around that now. Everyone was scurrying away, he could see the stream of carts and carriages on the road leading north. It would be the same on every road leading away from this place. Stepping outside, he looked down and saw the courtyard below crowded with more carts and carriages, nobles bundling what they could into their carriages. Didn’t they understand that these luxuries meant little now? Ashra had changed the world.
Behind him, his manservant was doing the same. “Leave it, Jonathan. Just go. Get away from here.”
“But my lord, the silver, the library.”
Roisen snorted. There was nothing of importance here. “Go.”
“What of you, my lord?”
“I am coming.”
“I’ll prepare the carriage.”
There was chaos down it the courtyard, carriages all rushing to the portcullis, none letting others pass through in orderly fashion.
“Leave the carriage and take only the horses.”
“My lord?”
“Now, Jonathan.”
“Yes,” he said in defeat and left.
One of the commanders came in his stead. “The fire is coming closer. It’s moving fast. They tipped barrels of oil in places. What must we do?”
“Disband and leave,” Roisen said heavily. “Everyone leaves.”
“Where shall we go?”
For a moment, he wondered if there was something to salvage here, but this was too large a change to be able to see a way forward. “Go home if you have one. You can go to my estate if you must. There is nothing to salvage here.”
The man left and Roisen was alone for the first time. Turning around, he looked at his apartments. This was an outcome he hadn’t expected. He’d never foreseen that Ashra would go so far as to raze everyt
hing to the ground. The whole structure of governance destroyed in a matter of hours.
Leaving his apartments, he walked down the corridor. Scavengers were already routing around the rooms for things to loot. No doubt his own would be before long. Greed would put them in danger. Ashra’s doors were still closed. She came back for nothing, it seemed.
A few floors downstairs, the clerks’ offices were chaos. Niesen Woord was pointing to piles of documents to save, ordering his clerks to lift and carry. Desperation made his voice thin and high.
“Leave it,” Roisen ordered in a roar and they all stopped to look at him.
“But the accounts,” Niesen said, his eyes wide and pleading.
“Have no purpose now. There is nothing to account for, or to account to. Let it all burn.”
“But…”
The man wasn’t getting it. “You’re fired Mr. Woord. You no longer have a place here. All of you, leave the citadel. The fire will be here in minutes, and there is nothing here to save.”
“But the records,” Niesen babbled.
“Will burn along with everything else,” Roisen said and continued. It really wasn’t any skin off his nose if these men chose to perish in a fire to save their precious records.
The courtyard was chaos. People were screaming and carriage wheels had caught up in each other, creating a blockage. It wasn’t going to be solved by screaming, but it seemed the tactic most had resorted to.
Jonathan sat on one of Roisen’s black horses, holding another three. They pranced restlessly, knowing better than some people that there was danger in this fire and it was not the time to scurry around saving their possessions.
Mounting his horse, they set off, skirting around the offending carriages both insisting they had right away. Jonathan had the two spare horses tethered to his saddle pommel. It was going to be a long ride home. Roisen expected the bag on Jonathan’s back was probably full of silver rather than food. He sighed.
Smoke wafted thickly through the air and the fire roared like a beast above him as Roisen looked back up the structure, roaring in its rage. Burning debris floated on the air, bits of charred material.
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