Page 135 of A Crown of Lies

Gods above, how in the world did I ever get so damn lucky?

Rowan turned his head to look at Ieduin. “Something the matter?”

Ieduin snorted like a horse and shook his head. “Just tired of riding already. How much further until we reach the mouth of The Scar?”

They’d planned to make camp there and then march to the Wytchwood the second day.

“It’s barely midday!” Rixxis said.

Ieduin shrugged and rode on. “So, when are you two going to get married? You going to wait until after the war?”

“Something like that.” Rowan’s smirk said he was planning something, something big. Ieduin couldn’t help but wonder what.

“You still owe me a proper proposal.” Rixxis leaned over and elbowed Rowan in the ribs.

Rowan frowned, rubbing his side. “Was last night not enough for you?”

Ieduin’s jaw fell open, and he leaned forward to catch Rixxis’s eye. “That’swhere you were? Banging the king while I’m folding your underwear? That’s the last damn time I pack your bags for you!”

“Shhh. Lower your voice!” Rixxis hissed. “And you didn’t have to fold my underwear, you know.” She flushed and flashed him a smile. It was good to see after everything that happened the last few days.

“I know. But I did because I’m nice and it fits in the pack better that way.” Ieduin glared at Rowan. “You owe me.”

“Careful, careful,” Rowan teased. “You’re toeing a line.”

Ieduin was fully aware that he was doing so. He knew where the lines were between being a good boy, a brat, and downright disrespectful of boundaries. He sighed loudly anyway. “It’s been so long, I guess I’m starting to forget who’s really in charge here. I might need a reminder.”

“Unless you want the entire army to hear me swatting your ass, that will have to wait,” Rowan said.

Ieduin grumbled more under his breath, but Rowan was right. Sex in an army camp was one thing, but Rowan could turn it into something completelyother. Something worth waiting for.It’ll give me something to look forward to after the battle, he thought.

Ieduin got his first glimpse of The Scar about two hours later. Rowan led them away from the main force with a small escort of Crows and they rode up a steep hill while the rest of the army went around it. At the top, there was a steep drop off and the whole world seemed to be much more distant.

Ieduin sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, looking at the valley stretched out before them. A huge canyon carved its way through the distance. Thick snow coated the mountains on either side until they disappeared into swirling clouds.

“The ancients believed there was a great battle here,” Rowan said. “Giants fought, standing so tall everything above their hips hid in the clouds. They say the mountains are their cairn, and The Scar is a mark left on the world when one cleaved his sickle through it, splitting Greymark in two. That one’s Angus the Brave,” he said, pointing to the mountain on the east side. “And that’s Duncan the Fat. Not sure why they’re called that, but that’s what we call them.” He lowered his arm. “Tonight, we sleep on the bones of giants, and tomorrow we’ll stand upon cursed land. Imagine the places we’ll go after that.”

Rixxis shook her head in disbelief. “This is all Greymark? It’s huge!”

“The Yeutlands are like this,” Ieduin said, watching the army crawl by far below. “You can ride east for two days and still not reach the sea. Go west, and it takes three. Ride north, and you’ll reach the frozen wastelands long before you ever see water. You could fit a hundred Brucias in the Yeutlands. Maybe just as many here.”

Rixxis squinted up at an eagle flying high above them. “It seems so… wild. How can anyone hope to govern all this?”

“Same way the elves govern the Yeutlands, I expect,” Ieduin said with a shrug and looked at Rixxis. “With permission from the locals. The last king of the elves tried to invade the Yeutlands when they refused to fall in line.”

“And how did that go for the king?” Rowan asked.

“Not well,” Ieduin replied. “They literally had to go village to village. By the time they arrived at one, the residents had already fled to the next. All they managed to do was piss them off enough to help Taratheil overthrow him. Besshirou had the bigger army, trained soldiers, and a flawless supply line. Turns out, a bunch of pissed off farmers and nomads were way more of a threat than he was ready for. They drew him in, picked every battlefield, lured him into traps with feints, and then circled around behind to cut off his supply lines. If Taratheil hadn’t gutted him, the whole army would’ve starved before winter was half over.”

“And we’re going to do that here?” Rowan asked.

Ieduin smiled and directed his horse away from the ledge. “Let’s hope Trinta isn’t as well-versed in elven history and tactics as I am.”

It didn’t look far, but it took the better part of the afternoon to ride down to The Scar. The mountains were even more intimidating from the valley. Being next to them, Ieduin felt tiny. There was a part of him that loved that feeling, as if the universe was reminding him of his place in it.

In three hundred years, we’ll all be dead, he thought, looking up at the mountains.Greymark might not even be around. Nor Trinta, nor Brucia. No one will remember any of us, but these mountains will still be here.

The bones of giants. It seemed fitting.

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