Page 70 of The Last One
The horses snuffle and shake their heads and lose the rhythm of their trots. They, too, sense the phantoms of this battle, of the warriors who died in this meadow.
“What happened here?” I ask.
“Wake,” Jadon whispers.
“The flag with the griffin,” I say, my chest tightening. “Whose flag…?”
Jadon frowns but doesn’t speak.
“Whose flag, Jadon?” I ask, dread gripping me.
“I’ve seen it around Pethorp,” Jadon says, “flown by one of King Exley’s battalions who serve as protectors of the town.”
“Does that mean…? Should we…?” I swallow, then push out, “Has Wake hit Pethorp? Are we walking into a trap? Not Miasma but the emperor’s men?”
Jadon runs his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. “We’ll know soon enough.”
“What’s the point of this carnage?” My eyes pinch with angry tears. “Who even won this battle? What’s the fucking point?”
“Other than Wake quenching his insatiable thirst for power and his insatiable desire to be exalted as the greatest ruler in history?” Jadon asks.
“Yeah. Other than that.”
“Power,” Jadon says. “Emperor Wake seeks unity and peace.” As we ride through this graveyard, Jadon tells me that Wake believes that uniting all the provinces under one ruler, and absorbingany culture or belief that would create division and conflict, will bring about an age of peace and prosperity. As Supreme Manifest, Wake considers this campaign his divine right.
“His successful reign will fulfill an ancient prophecy,” Jadon continues. “One ruler uniting the realm, shepherding all of Vallendor away from impending doom and closer to a world of peace.”
“What kind of impending doom?” I ask.
Jadon shrugs. “The collapse of Vallendor.”
My cheeks burn hot as I think about those charred trees and scorched bones across the fields behind us. “Wake’s strategy to bring about peace and save the realm is…threatening people? Burning them alive if they don’t surrender?”
“Whatever works, right?” Jadon says.
Several paces behind us, Olivia coughs and asks, “Are we there yet?”
“Nope,” Jadon says. “Not for a—”
Above us, veiled by the haze of smoke and ashes, a bird’s song pierces the crackles of dying fire.Cheer-cheer-cheer.
Jadon glances my way, his eyes narrowed with cautious curiosity. I cast a brief look to the sky above. We ride on in silence, both of us pretending that we never heard that cardinal’s song.
“Are Pethorpians also believers in ‘the emperor is Supreme Manifest’?” I ask, stomach churning.
“Not yet,” Jadon says, “that is, unless that abandoned flag back there has changed things. If not, Pethorp remains a part of the kingdom of Vinevridth, under King Exley’s rule.”
“Which means, then,” I say, “Wake’s men were on their way to Pethorp but were stopped by that battalion back there on that battlefield.”
Olivia lifts her chin and says, “Told you we should’ve—”
“Don’t,” Jadon warns, hard eyes on his sister. “And we can’t assume that Pethorp lost the skirmish. The flag in that hand could mean nothing more than that. A flag in a hand.”
We ride silently for a moment, until Philia says, “Kai, Pethorp had lovely colures even before someone decided that colures now mean that you believe Emperor Wake is Supreme Manifest. When my father was alive, he did the glasswork for the colure over their chapel door, the colure over the mayor’s front door, and a few inside, and in the town square. And not one colure was meant to symbolize Wake as Supreme Manifest.”
“Phily, don’t make Pethorp better than it is,” Olivia grumbles, then winces as she shifts in the saddle. “Their beliefs aren’t too far from being icky. They believe that if you have more, you are closer to Supreme. They believe that the better you dress, the prettier you are, the richer you are, that you’re closer and more devoted to Supreme. That you will receive the biggest blessing.”
“Maybe they’re right,” Philia says, reaching one arm across her body to stretch. “Maford’s been in a drought for years. No one can even make babies anymore. And now, the emperor’s about to take the town for himself. That’s not a town that’s been blessed.”
