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“Nothing to report still deserves a report,” Abarrane counters.
She’s right. Worry gnaws at my conscience. I should have received a letter by now. Romeria would not wait.
Something has gone terribly wrong.
Elisaf pats my shoulder. “I will stand watch and let you know the moment it arrives. Get a few hours of rest while you can.”
“I will not be able to rest. Besides, it seems I have company.” I nod toward Gaellar, who marches toward my tent. Her tent, until I arrived.
“Your Highness.” She bows, offering a sideways glance at Abarrane.
“Did you gain the insight you wanted from Radomir?” He sat with us for hours, answering questions and suggesting tips for the various beasts they’ve crossed paths with, until they had to return to the shadows. Even I learned a thing or two, and it was impossible to miss the sapling leader’s light mood. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he enjoyed the comradery, the respect.
“Very much, though I do not know how much use it will be for us. We have yet to see a nethertaur or a hag around these parts.”
Abarrane clears her throat, a subtle way of expressing her displeasure with me for not revealing the truth.
She’s right, but I ignore her for now. “Any sign of Queen Neilina?”
“Yes, that is why I am here. Our lookouts have seen her carriage arrive, along with her elementals and Mordain’s Shadows.”
My king’s armor left behind in Cirilea still wears the battle-ax mark from the last encounter I had with one of those Shadows. They’re daunting, as skilled with weapons as they are with their honed affinities. “I imagine she will want to exchange words before battle.” I’ve never met Neilina in person, but I’ve heard she loves the sound of her own voice. I would be shocked if she doesn’t seek the opportunity to meet me. “Keep a watchful eye and inform me as soon as their gate opens.”
Gaellar’s brow furrows. “Do you think that wise, to go yourself? If what you have told me about Queen Neilina is true, then she is not honorable. She will bring her elementals with her and use the opportunity to attack.”
“Possibly. But I cannot hide. Besides, I welcome the meeting, so I can brief them on all the lies their precious ruler has fed them.”
Peering over her shoulder at the arid fields filled with soldiers, Gaellar offers, “Many here feel that it is not much different in Islor.”
I want to argue with her, but I can’t because it’s true. I’ve been at the root of some of those lies. But I’m not sacrificing others for my own gain.
Abarrane clears her throat … again.
Point made.
“How are strategic plans coming along?”
“Well, Your Highness, I feel we have the right plan laid out.”
They cannot possibly have the right plan because they have no idea what’s coming. “Gather your officers. We will meet in the command tent in thirty minutes.” Maybe it’s time for some candid truths.
That is what Romeria would do.
“If we leave a wide perimeter around our wall and then unleash several volleys of arrows, some of them will get through.”
“But most of them will not.”
“Bragvam said to aim for the Shadows, who will come in behind them.”
Telor and I share an amused look as the officers around the table bicker.
“I thought she said her strategy was already laid out,” Abarrane says mockingly, earning Kienen’s chuckle.
Gaellar grimaces. I feel a pang of sympathy for her. She just inherited this position and while I’m sure she earned it, it takes time to prove herself against older, weathered soldiers who think they know everything.
“The last time Ybaris attacked—” one begins.
I bark with grim laughter, cutting him off. “You are strategizing maneuvers based on what they did the last time, one hundred years ago?”
The voices die down as stern faces stare at me. A few, I recognize, but most I’ve never met before. They don’t know me any more than I know them, and by some of their expressions, my presence here is not appreciated. Some surely don’t see me as king.
That’s fine. They don’t have to love me, but they damned well better listen to me. “Let me save you the trouble of too much quarreling. There is nothing about this battle that will resemble the last one, or any that Islor has fought in two thousand years. And that is because, at the height of the full Hudem moon, the Nulling will open.”
Gaellar’s face blanches. “There is a key caster?”
“There is, and it is Queen Romeria of Ulysede.” I don’t hesitate anymore. She is what she is, and I believe she is bound to be Islor’s savior. “Because of Queen Romeria, we will finally have an end to this blood curse that has plagued us for too long. The Ybarisan poison will no longer be a threat to us.”
