Page 45 of The Sundered Blade

Those who survived the Enclave did not cry. Could not. But for the first time in her memory, Karreya wished she could remember how. Whether for sorrow or for joy. For the promise of tomorrow, or for the fear that it would never come…

No matter what happened, Niell would find her. He had said it twice now. And while she might once have heard it as a threat, now it was a promise. The kind of promise that reminded her she was not alone, and that not being alone was a form of strength.

Whatever occurred tonight, whether she succeeded or failed, that promise would not falter. She knew it with the kind of certainty only her magic provided, as if it had read his words and known them for the truth.

Perhaps it had.

He had not said that he loved her, and yet, it felt as if the final piece of her armor had finally fallen into place. When she confronted her father tonight, she would not do so alone.

Niell would stand beside her, and that was all the courage she needed.

CHAPTER13

“You didwhat?”

Danric appeared to be reconsidering his welcome.

“We sent Leisa and Karreya to Hanselm, hoping to provoke Modrevin into acting before he is ready,” Vaniell summed up helpfully. He actually thought he’d explained the situation rather well, given the complicated nature of the tale he’d been required to recount. All while Kyrion stood by nodding occasionally, but otherwise providing no assistance whatsoever.

Their audience appeared to be in varying stages of shock, whether from the revelation of Melger’s true identity, Karreya’s existence, or Yvane’s origins. Not to mention Senaya and Leisa’s imperial heritage. It was a lot to take in, and some seemed to be grasping the implications more quickly than others.

“A grave risk,” Evaraine said coolly. “But not without justification. I do not care to be forced into war, but it seems war is coming whether we wish it or not.”

“And you do not fight alone.” Kyrion finally decided to join the conversation. “Dunmaren will abide by the terms of our treaty. Garimore’s attempt to assassinate you is most certainly a threat to the sovereignty of Farhall, and will be answered by our people as well as your own.”

“They won’t be thrilled,” his mother, Lythienne, put in dryly, “but they can be made to see the necessity of it. This Modrevin is a threat to all of Abreia, not just the human kingdoms, and it is past time to put a stop to his activities.”

Kyrion’s sister, Wyn, nodded in agreement, but not without a sideways glower at Vaniell and a quick slash of her finger across her throat. Apparently, she still intended to eat him.

Another of their surprising allies—a tall, dark-haired elf—rose to add his voice to the conversation. “I cannot promise much, but know that the elves of Sion Dairach will likewise support your cause in whatever ways we are able. We owe you a great debt for the depredations caused by the wraiths that escaped our borders, and would repay that debt by aiding you in your quest to depose this tyrant.”

“Thank you, Kyrion, Lythienne, and Dechlan.” Though she remained seated and was little more than half the size of most other people in the room, the Queen of Farhall was somehow the unquestioned leader of this strange group. “I accept your offer of aid, and hope that this cements the friendship between our kingdoms beyond the possibility of fracture. I am likewise encouraged by the news from Eddris and from Iria—it seems we are of one mind and stand ready to defend ourselves against Garimoran aggression. Katal, also, has indicated they are allied with us in principle, even if their troops cannot possibly reach us in time to be of any help. There’s just one problem…”

She looked around the room a little ruefully. “We must choose someone to lead us through this conflict, and it cannot be me.”

“Why not?” Vaniell would back the Queen of Farhall against pretty well anyone, Modrevin included. “Everyone here trusts you, and your kingdom lies at a natural nexus between the lands of your nearest allies.”

“I thank you for your vote of confidence.” Evaraine appeared slightly amused. “However, there are numerous reasons why I would be a poor choice. To begin, the most obvious is that I know nothing of war. I can feed and clothe the army in my barracks, but the moment they leave my kingdom, I am at a loss.”

Well, that made two of them. Vaniell wouldn’t know what to do with an army, either.

“Second, I cannot lead from the front. When the army leaves, I will remain here. My physical limitations would be a hindrance in the field, and given the diversity of our forces, I believe we need someone visible to give them confidence.”

She glanced at Kyrion, but he shook his head. “I thank you for the honor, but it would not be wise for me to accept such a position. Not only would many humans hesitate to trust me, but I am bound by my duty to my own people and to Leisa first and foremost. It is Lythienne who leads our battle forces and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.”

“Caro would be another natural choice,” Evaraine noted, “but she lacks true leadership experience and is not a well-known face.” Here she paused before glancing at Vaniell. “You, on the other hand, are quite well-known, and have led a successful rebellion for years without anyone realizing the truth. You clearly have a gift for strategy and secrecy, and for convincing an impressively diverse collection of individuals to trust you.” A hint of a smile creased the corners of her lips. “Odd as that seems to say.”

“Very odd indeed.” Vaniell couldn’t quite hold back an answering grin. He might not have wanted to marry her, but he quite liked the Queen of Farhall. “But it cannot be me either, you know. I’m good at misdirection and trickery—at hiding and manipulating from the shadows. But put a sword in my hand and I’d be useless, and our troops will know it. I’ve sworn to do whatever I can to retake Garimore, but my reputation still stands against me. If I’m to take some role in the future, it will be after I’ve proven I can be trusted.”

“If?” One of Danric’s brows arched skeptically. “You know perfectly well that the only ‘if’ in this situation isifwe succeed, brother. A free Garimore has only one true choice to be her king.”

Vaniell managed to wince only slightly. “I never wanted to take that from you,” he said quietly. “I hope you know that. I was always content to be second. And everything I’ve said in the past… I didn’t mean it. You would have been the perfect king for Garimore. You spent your whole life preparing for it, and now…”

“And now,” Danric interrupted, “I’ve finally discovered the role that is truly right for me. Farhall needs my knowledge and my skills far more than Garimore ever did. And while it may sound strange to you, I love this kingdom, in ways that I was never able to love Garimore. Garimore was my duty, and I was more than content to devote myself to that duty, but Farhall is my home now. I love her people and more than anything else, I love her queen, and there is not the smallest drop of jealousy in my heart. You were born to be King of Garimore, and it will be a great day that sees you take the throne.”

Vaniell’s chin dropped as he choked back a swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm his control. When his lips finally stopped trembling, he offered his brother a crooked grin. “I’ve always said you were a disgustingly good man, Danric. How delightful to discover that I was right.”

Their eyes locked, and Vaniell felt a sudden surge of affection for the brother he’d once considered an enemy. Then he glanced around the room at their allies, with a challenging tilt to his head. “Would anyone care to dispute that the obvious leader for our alliance is standing right in front of us? Danric has the knowledge, the authority, and the ability to do what is needed, and I can’t imagine anyone more trustworthy.”

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