Page 196 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“I am so glad you approve.” King Cheral smirks. “I suppose we Kiers know something of strategy too.”

Baymeadow’s bell toll in the distance announces the evening hour. Lights mark the wooden wall that surrounds the village. Most who live there are farmers. Normally, they would be asleep by now, so they could begin an early day of tending to the fields. I doubt they rest well lately, though, with an enemy army stationed within an hour’s ride.

More than anything, I would like to stroll through those streets like I have done many a time. Maybe if I’m on my best behavior, the king will let me venture in tomorrow.

A shout sounds in the Kierish tongue, and a scout steps out from behind a boulder, an arrow notched in his bow. I assume, a demand that we announce ourselves or die. By my count, a dozen soldiers hide strategically up the hill, ready to fire with the order. All Kiers. I do not know what they put in their water—besides the poison that wreaks havoc on their crops—but their soldiers are all substantial brutes.

King Cheral unfastens his cloak to reveal his finery without a word.

The scout’s eyes widen. He drops to his knee, uttering apologies, I presume.

“All right, usurper king. Let us see how your people receive you.”

“Your land is beautiful,” Satoria muses, sidled beside me as we wait for King Cheral to return from receiving his general’s brief. “I can see why you would want to lead the army that protects its borders.”

“My brother would say I enjoy the swollen ego that goes along with leading the army far more than the noble cause.” I nod toward Tuella, who kneels on the ground, her head tipped back. “What is she doing?”

“Reading the stars.”

I frown as I look up. “It’s not dark enough yet.” There’s a speck here and a blink there, but nothing like what she will see in a few hours, as the night climbs in the sky.

“I do not understand it myself.” Satoria shudders and pulls her cloak tighter around her slight body.

The urge to offer her warmth somehow—rub her shoulders or pull her against my side—hits me, but I refrain. Another mortal owns my heart, whether she wants it anymore or not. Besides, this is King Cheral’s wife, a truth I seem to keep forgetting. “Why have you come?”

“Do you wish me not to be here?” A tinge of hurt laces her voice.

“I am not saying that. But there is nothing but war ahead. Are you a master warrior and neglected to mention it?”

She smiles. “I am adept with my blade. But I have other skills.”

“Like loosening the tongue of your husband’s enemies and convincing them to fight for him?”

A laugh sails from her lips. “I do not recall having to convince you of anything.”

“I suppose not. I cannot lie, it feels good to be home.”

“I hope you hold that sentiment after you speak to your Islorians.” King Cheral rejoins us. “Now that my soldiers’ blood holds no draw for them, they camp together. You will find them over there, on the left.”

“Yes, I can pick out my own kind.” Many of them know who I am. Some fought at my side before the eastern lords’ schemes turned them against Cirilea. Are they worried? They should be. I have not forgotten their disloyalty. Their only saving grace is that they were following their lords’ orders.

But I lost good friends to their betrayal.

“Who leads the eastern wing?”

“A male named Segland. Do you know him?”

“Well enough.” I smile. This should be interesting.

“My general says they have not received word from Kettling’s lord, or any other, since before last Hudem.”

“That is not a surprise. Adley would have had difficulties sending word, given his incarceration and then his death. Do they not know about that yet?”

“They’ve heard rumors. You will have the good fortune of confirming it for them. It is interesting, though, that no one else has stepped up to fill his shoes.”

“They are all spineless cowards, afraid of this new king.” That doesn’t mean they won’t eventually pick up their scheming again.

“Perhaps we could learn a lesson or two in that regard. But between the silence and this unexplained end to the blood curse, they grow restless and ill at ease, according to my general.”

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