Page 118 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

He’d left Kolyath’s Commander alive, for her.

Cahra stalked to Sullian and stood, scrutinising the Steward’s military Commander, apprehended and glowering at her. She’d been so afraid of Kolyath’s soldiers catching her and her friends as they journeyed through the Wilds. Looking at the leader of Kolyath’s army, she felt sad and angry for those like Ellian dragged into this endless war.

‘It was never Atriposte, or Jarett, or even you,’ she said to Sullian. ‘It was all of you, Kolyath’s high-borns, who never gave a damn who lived or died outside the castle keep.’ Cahra stilled to find her hand was itching for Lumsden’s gold dagger again. She exhaled, grinding her teeth as she shook free of the impulse, then let her arm fall by her side.

A tiny tendril of her abreption’s old peace unwound inside her.

Sullian opened his thin, high-born mouth to insult her with some disparaging remark. Cahra shook her head at him.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No more.’ She turned her back on the man. ‘Hael,’ she asked, ‘does Hael’stromia have a dungeon?’

‘Three,’ Hael replied. He angled his chin from the sun’s warm rays and surveyed her. ‘Is that truly what you want?’

Cahra looked out at Kolyath and Ozumbre’s forces, rudderless and powerless against the arrival of the ultimate weapon. She gazed up at Hael.

‘For now.’ Then she remembered her own dungeon escape. ‘The securest one we’ve got,’ she told him quickly.

Hael nodded. Then, dropping into a deep bow, he moved faster than her eyes could follow to render Sullian unconscious, before descending into the Nether’s smoke with the former Commander of her kingdom’s forces.

But before he did, she caught the look in Sullian’s eyes… The entitlement. The rage. Cahra knew it well.

Just as she knew the old ways in Kolyath, the Steward’s ways, wouldn’t go quietly. There would be a period of adjustment, and she would need to meet it head-on.

She sighed. There was a lot to do, it seemed.

In Hael’s brief absence, Cahra looked to Thierre. The Prince was clearly lost to grief. Her gaze shifted to Raiden, to Sylvie, both wounded but standing.

‘So, that’s the weapon?’ The General arched a sleek brow. ‘If your Reliquus can’t end the war between the sister kingdoms, I dare not think who or what will.’

‘The fighting does seem to have stopped,’ Cahra admitted, pausing before telling her, ‘I am sorry for your loss.’ She glanced at Thierre, the Prince unmoving, unhearing.

Sylvie’s blue eyes misted. ‘Thank you for your words. And for securing my brother.’ She wiped her face, sighing. ‘What is expected of the kingdoms now?’

Hael returned from wherever the dungeons were – and with Cahra’s great-hammer – moving to tower behind her. With a solemn grace, he held the magnificent weapon out. The air seemed to thrum with otherworldly energy as he presented Cahra with her Haellium hammer.

‘Surrender,’ Hael said, a remnant of the Nether’s rattle in his voice. ‘As I instructed them.’ Drily, he added, ‘Twice.’

Cahra resisted the urge to raise a brow. So he had attempted diplomacy? Maybe she and Haelwerechanging, she thought.

She hissed to him, ‘What do I do now?’

He looked upon her calmly. ‘Permit me,’ Hael said. She nodded and he straightened, rising above the tallest soldiers as Cahra noticed for the first time his monumental height. From their visions, she’d assumed he was only tall compared to her.

‘Sister kingdoms of the realm!’ Hael began, launching his voice across the battlefield. ‘I am Hael, the Reliquus – the weapon of prophecy – and Vassal Champion to the Scion. The prophecy has now come to pass, and the capital will open to you in but a short time… However, only if you surrender.’ He paused, indicating Cahra. ‘And pledge your fealty.’

Cahra froze, panicked.Now?!She didn’t exactly look the part of an Empress with her dishevelled leathers, marred in her own blood.

She turned to Wyldaern and saw the Oracle was watching Sylvie and Raiden sadly. They were waiting for Thierre to say something.

Cahra’s heart ached for Thierre, reeling from the magnitude of King Royce’s death. She wondered if Sylvie and Raiden waited for nothing. But just when she thought reaching the Prince was a lost cause, he laid his father down gently. Then he spoke.

‘Luminaux recognises the sovereignty of Cahra of Kolyath as Empress to the realm, Hael’stromia and the three sister kingdoms.’ Thierre thrust his longsword into the ground, the sword Cahra had forged for him. The sword that had started it all.

‘So says King Thierre of Luminaux.All hail!’ His words rang in Luminaux’s ranks, Tyne, Sylvie, Raiden and their people all clasping their fists to their chests.

‘ALL HAIL!’

The call reverberated as Cahra stood, frozen, taken aback by Thierre’s endorsement. How was the man standing, speaking so steadily with such royal poise, when his body was bruised and bloody and broken, and his father was lying dead at his feet? She blinked, unable to comprehend it.

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