by Trudie Skies
But it was Housemen who decided the fate of their people, who voted at Council meetings and forced laws on the rest of Sandair. By dropping bribes in a few choice pockets, he could have bought his support back. Whilst she was avoiding the palace, sure he was locked safely away in his room, he could have been using that time to his advantage. Gods, how could she have been so foolish?
“No one doubts your courage, my Prince,” Salasar said. “But you lack the experience needed to lead men into battle—”
“I graduated from the Academy with your blessing, Lord Salasar. You trained me yourself and named me your most promising student. Did you lie?”
“No, my Prince, but you are young—”
“My father was eighteen when he assumed the throne.”
“Your father had fought in real battles and killed men by the time he took the crown. I speak as a commander, as Sword of Solus, when I say you’re too green, my Prince. Boys who rush into war rarely become men.”
Shocked whispers whipped around the room. The Prince’s face contorted with anger for a heartbeat before returning to its mask of perfection. The Sword of Solus had said the words no one else dared. By the grimace pulling on Salasar’s face, he knew he’d overstepped.
“Forgive me, my Prince,” Talin said. “The Code of Honor still stands.”
Farzad Fellbond slammed his fist on the table, making everyone jump. “Gai’s teat, if you’re going to blather on about the Code of Honor, then don’t pick and choose. If the King isn’t fit enough to chair this meeting, then he’s not fit enough to rule. How can he organize a war from his sick bed? Our Prince may be young, but he’s shown more courage than the lot of you.”
Murmurs of agreement lit a fire in her stomach.
“Khaled is still king,” the Guardian of Gai said, his voice as sharp as a bird’s cry. “I have every faith Lord Talin can manage his affairs—”
“And what if the King passes on?” said a man in a silver sahn. House Xanbond. Zavar’s father? “Talin would die with him. We’d lose our commander in the middle of a war! If the King’s life is in danger—and we all know that it is—we can’t march into Hartnord land with his sorran in command of our army. We need the King’s heir to lead us. And Prince Ravel is his chosen heir.”
“But he lost the tournament!” Mina said.
“That only matters when the King surrenders the throne to his heir while he’s still alive. The Code of Honor says nothing about the tournament when a king dies.”
“For shame! The King isn’t dead yet,” tutted a small Gaislander woman in a lilac dress. House Enaibond. Raj’s mother.
If the tournament didn’t matter, then another prince could challenge the throne. “What of Prince Rais?” Mina called out. “He’s passed his helbond—”
“My brother has taken the death of our mother to heart,” Prince Ravel said. “I’m afraid he has no capacity to lead. Nor, as you are aware, my lords, has he ever taken an interest in this Council.”
She chewed her tongue. Prince Rais should be here. She couldn’t win this battle for him—no one could. Who could take him seriously as a challenger for the throne when he didn’t even show up to argue for himself?
“Then we hold a vote of confidence as the Prince suggests,” the Xanbond Houseman said.
“A vote is unnecessary. Of course we have confidence in the King,” the Guardian of Gai countered.
“Must be comfortable in Gaisland, Nazim,” Farzad Fellbond drawled. “Battle never reaches your forest. It’s Fellbani land that the Hartnords will raid. It’s our towns they’ll plunder, and our people they’ll slaughter. Same as it was seventeen years ago.” Lord Farzad’s voice dropped to a low growl. “I lost my brother on some foolhardy mission to protect the King’s Hartnord sorran. Is that the same leadership we can expect from you this time, Lord Talin?” His face turned a blotchy red. “You led that mission yourself. I’d sooner place my faith in fresh blood than some withered old man—”
Chairs crashed backwards—Salasar was on his feet, shouting, hand on his sword hilt. So was the Lord of House Xanbond. And the Guardian of Gai. And two other Housemen who seemed to be taking House Fellbond’s side, in sahn’s of deep blue and bright yellow, though it was hard to make out who was shouting what. Prince Ravel watched, absorbing the chaos with a subtle smirk. He was enjoying this.
Talin raised his hand. “Enough!”
The men fell silent, like Academy children scolded by their teacher. Even Salasar.
“We’ll hold a vote,” Talin declared. “All those in favor of the Prince’s proposal and his claim to the throne, sit. Those who support the King and agree to follow my command as his Right Arm, stand. Are we clear?”
Prince Ravel inclined his head. “As my father’s Right Arm, it is only fair that you abstain from the vote, Lord Talin. Are we agreed?”
The Housemen murmured their agreement.
“As you wish, my Prince,” Talin said.
The lords of Houses Fellbond, Khalbond, and Xanbond sat immediately. Salasar remained standing, of course. The Guardian of Gai, representing House Grebond, puffed out his chest and stood proud.
The others hesitated. Mina watched them, marking each face as Prince Ravel did, either as a supporter of King Khaled or a potential enemy.
After a few minutes’ conversation with their sorrans and the other members of their House in attendance, the lords of the other two Soland Houses, Darabond and Nasbond, took their seats. The head of House Baibond—a Duslander—remained standing.
The three priestesses were given a vote, to Mina’s surprise. Leila kept her seat, which wasn’t to her surprise. The High Priestess of Gai stood and, with some difficulty, she helped Lady Sarabond, the High Priestess of Lune, to stand as well.
Only three Gaislander Houses remained.
To Mina’s relief, Raj’s mother stood. The lord of House Orabond, however, did not.
And so it was down to House Myrbond. Alistar’s family. Neu Bosan by birth and blood. Sandarian by choice. And soon to marry their son into the Bright Solara, if King Khaled’s will should prevail.
Alistar squirmed. His father twitched, as though being physically torn between king and prince. Mina had never met him, but he was a renowned merchant and politician. An ambitious man, becoming head of a Sandarian House despite his foreign lineage and securing an ambassadorship for himself. And now, potentially, securing a royal wife for his son and heir. There could be no doubt he’d thrived under King Khaled’s rule.
But that only meant he had a lot to lose.
If he stood now, only for the King to die and the throne to fall to Prince Ravel anyway, he might as well usher his entire family aboard a boat to Neu Bosa. Everything he’d built in Sandair would be lost. But if he sided with Prince Ravel, the Prince was certain to reward him generously, and for years to come.
Alistar’s father, Lord of House Myrbond, rose slowly from his chair. And in doing so, damned his House.
“A tie, my Prince,” Talin said.
“Perhaps a recount is in order, Lord Talin.”
“Not needed, my Prince,” Salasar said. An odd smile played on his lips. “The Code of Honor states that the reigning tournament champion may cast a deciding vote in times of strife. Isn’t that so, Lord Talin?”
The embers in her gut stirred, and a rush of warmth left her mouth dry.
“Should the tournament champion be a man, Lord Salasar,” Prince Ravel spluttered.
“The Code of Honor makes no reference to sex in this case, my Prince. Or should we summon the Academy scholars and pour over every line?”
“Cast your vote, Tamina,” Talin said with calm reassurance, as though this decision meant nothing.
She looked straight at the Prince as she walked around to House Arlbond’s seat at the table. His expression twisted with whatever poison burned in his veins. She placed her hands on the back of the chair and moved her gaze to Salasar. The Sword of Solus. A man she’d considered to
be a living legend like her father, until she’d met him and learned that honor came cheap. He’d once warned her against denying the Prince in the tournament, but now… his one eye widened, bright with answer.
Gods, she could kiss him.
Oh, Prince Ravel thought himself so clever, dragging her here to witness his crowning moment. Hadn’t he learned yet? So long as she drew breath, she’d deny his crown. She didn’t need to become queen to stop him. Nor did she need to shed blood.
She casually tipped her chair onto its side. The clatter as it hit the tiled floor was the sweetest music she’d ever heard.
“I vote in King Khaled’s favor.”
A deep sigh rumbled through the room.
“If this matter is concluded, let us move on,” Talin said. “We have a war to prepare for.”
The Housemen shuffled back into their seats, grabbing wine or papers, their attention averted from the Prince.
Prince Ravel remained standing, his expression neutral. He inclined his head in polite defeat, though his sorran, Zavar, flinched. “As you will, Lord Talin. My father’s success remains in your hands. May I make a request?”
“Of course, my Prince.”
“Allow me to earn the respect of this Council and prove my worth. I request the opportunity to assist your campaigns. I mean not to steal your glory, Lord Talin, but to learn from you and contribute where necessary.”
“That is acceptable, my Prince.”
“With that in mind, I have a suggestion.” Prince Ravel’s amber eyes met hers. “It is only fitting that our tournament champion should fight beside our men to victory. And her sorran.”
14
A PATH CHOSEN
Mina stiffened. Talin mirrored the movement. Salasar caught his expression. “Lady Arlbond is too young, my Prince, and far too inexperienced. She’d be a liability—”
“You dishonor our champion, Lord Salasar. If Lady Arlbond is man enough to enter our tournament and cast a vote in this Council, then she is well equipped for joining our men in battle. Is that not fair, Lady Sarabond?” His gaze shifted to the Priestess of Lune, who didn’t take the bait or even raise an eyebrow.
Salasar offered Mina an apologetic smile. “I mean no offense, Lady Arlbond, but I think the Council can make an exception in this case. The first duty of a woman is to provide heirs for her husband. I believe Lady Arlbond is already betrothed.”
Heat burned across her entire face. She hadn’t even agreed to marry Prince Rais! How in Lune’s name had he heard such nonsense?
This, at least, provoked a reaction from the Priestess of Lune, who snorted and shook her head.
“War isn’t conducive to marriage, Lord Salasar,” Prince Ravel said.
“A royal marriage would boost morale, my Prince.”
“I’m not marrying anyone!” Mina yelled.
Farzad Fellbond thumped the table. “We’re not here to discuss marriage plans.” His leering gaze turned to her. “She beat me in the tournament. I’m a proud man, but if the King welcomes women in his tournament, then he must believe them competent enough to fight on a battlefield. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Talin? You chose to dress her up as a man, enter her into the Academy as a man, and parade her in the tournament as a man. Have faith in your daughter.”
Talin’s intense eyes found hers. “I have faith, do not mistake me. But the law is clear that only men can serve as soldiers.”
“Oh, now you care what the law says about women and what they’re allowed to be?” scoffed Lord Xanbond. “How convenient. However, the Code of Honor supersedes the law, and the Code is very clear about the responsibilities of our tournament champion.”
Talin opened his mouth but no words came out.
It was Prince Ravel who spoke, grinning from ear to ear. “‘Should the champion be unwilling or unable to answer the call of the king to battle, then he shall be champion no more and neither is he a warrior. All titles and honors shall be stripped of him, along with his sword.’ Did I quote that correctly, Lord Talin? Or would you like to call for the Academy scholars?”
Talin’s fury boiled hot through the blood bond. “The King did not call Mina to battle—”
“He called for war,” snarled the Prince. “And in war, every warrior must answer the call of his king.”
“The Code says nothing whatsoever about women being soldiers or serving in war. In this case, we can all agree that when the champion is a woman—”
“I don’t agree,” Farzad Fellbond said. “If the Code permits women to serve as champions, then the Code binds them to the rules and responsibilities that come with it. You can’t have it both ways, Lord Talin.”
In that moment, Mina felt something through her blood bond with Talin that she never thought she’d feel from him—helplessness. He looked to Salasar, then to Salasar’s wife. Neither met his eye. Everyone in the room knew that the argument was over.
Prince Ravel smirked. “Take a seat, Lady Arlbond. Your sorran may stand.”
Mina’s chair still lay on its side. With the Housemen watching in silence, she righted the chair and slid into the seat, her knees weak. War, and she’d be at the front lines.
She’d denied Prince Ravel his crown once again, but he’d caught her in his trap in the end. Talin had wanted her to run back to Arlent because he knew this would happen. His anger no longer rattled through the bond, nor any sense of defeat. Only a solemn calm as if to say, We’ll survive this together.
The Prince settled in his chair as though it was a throne. “Now, it’s time we speak of strategy. One thing the Hartnords have made clear in recent weeks is how much they fear our Fire Walkers. We should exploit this fear. Our Fire Walkers should be on the forefront of the attack.”
She sat up. “No.”
Talin raised his hand for Mina to hold her tongue, but the Prince waved him off. “Allow Lady Arlbond to voice her objections.”
She gripped the marble arms of her chair, nails scraping the stone. “King Khaled gave the Fire Walkers their freedom.”
“And they used that freedom to murder a Hartnord king and damn us all to war.”
“You cannot punish an entire group of people based on one person—”
“No one is being punished. Fire Walkers will be called to serve, same as any man.”
She leaned over the table. “They’re not your slaves!”
“Sit down. You’re embarrassing yourself,” Farzad Fellbond muttered.
“Forgive me, Lady Arlbond, but I’m confused.” The Prince rubbed his chin. “I don’t recall you representing the Fire Walkers as High Priestess of Rahn.”
“Fire Walkers have always been called to assist during times of war,” Salasar said.
She glared at him. “That was before they were freed!”
Now it was Leila’s turn to raise her hand for silence. She waited until all eyes were upon her before she stood and said, “Our temple is a sanctuary, not a prison. And it is an honor, not a punishment, to serve our kingdom when war is upon us. As High Priestess of Rahn, I believe it is right and just for the Fire Walkers to march side by side with our soldiers.”
“Well spoken,” Prince Ravel said. “My lords and ladies, if this issue requires a vote, then we should vote.”
“So be it,” Talin said, as he rose from his chair. “For my part, I vote to let each Fire Walker make his own choice whether or not to serve. Let all who agree with me stand.”
Of the Houses on the Council, only House Enaibond sided with him. Raj’s mother stood, even as Alistar’s father, Salasar, and all the rest remained in their seats.
The Fire Walkers would once again be rounded up and forced to march north. Forced to burn Hartnords and forced to die on Hartnord blades. There was nothing she could do about it.
The Priestesses of Gai and Lune, at least, supported the Fire Walkers, not that their votes counted for much. Lady Sarabond glowered at her husband across the table.
Once all votes were ca
st and recorded, Talin sank back into his chair. “If the Fire Walkers are to march with us to Hartnor, then I have a duty to perform as Right Arm of the King. I hereby relieve the High Priestess of Rahn of her position.”
The Housemen groaned.
“This would place us in an awkward predicament, Lord Talin,” Prince Ravel said. “Now is not the time to seek a replacement.”
“On the contrary, my Prince, now is the ideal time. It was the High Priestess’s own acolyte who murdered King Reinhart—during a ceremony that she herself was responsible for. Clearly, she has no control over her own people, even those closest to her. If we can’t trust her to maintain order among the Fire Walkers here in our own Keep, then we dare not allow her to lead them into war.” His eyes flickered to Mina, and she nodded in response.
Leila stood and swooped into a low bow. “My Prince, my lords. I have served Rahn and the Bright Solara for many years. We have fought side by side as I led my Fire Walkers in battle. I’d hoped we’d never face another such conflict in my lifetime, and I am ashamed that it was one of my own who committed the atrocity which has led us back to war. I have prayed to Rahn for forgiveness, my lords, and now I humbly beg you for the same.”
“I appreciate your testimony, but my command stands. We will choose a new High Priestess who can be trusted to act in the best interests of this Council.”
Mina bit back a smirk. Now Leila would be no one but another Fire Walker.
Leila bowed again. “Of course, my Lord. There are many fine priestesses across Sandair. I could recommend any number.”
Any priestess Leila recommended would treat the Fire Walkers with the same contempt. The same cowardice and subservience to those in power. It was dangerous enough in times of peace. In war, it would get hundreds killed, if not thousands. There was nothing Mina could do to stop this war, to stop the Fire Walkers from being dragged into it. But perhaps there were ways she could protect them, from the inside. The Prince wanted her thrown into harm’s way regardless.