Sacrifice

by Cayla Kluver

  I could hear everyone’s breathing, so much louder now than the noises from outside. Muffled shouts still reached us, the occasional sound of an explosion and of fighting. Grayden stayed on his feet, gripping his sword tightly, prepared to fight for us if necessary. I stared at him, my eyes gradually losing focus, the exhaustion I had been ignoring setting in. Through the terror, the panic and the uncertainty of this battle, sleep called to me, and I gave myself over to it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:

  A COKYRIAN WITH HYTANICAN BLOOD

  ALERA

  The air was thick. Something was burning. Something was on fire. Then I was pulled to my feet, roughly and urgently. As my eyes oriented, I remembered where I was—in Narian’s quarters—and he was dragging me toward the door.

  “What’s going on?” I rasped, coughing, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he tugged me down the corridor toward the staircase. I gazed through the large windows, where everything was red and hazy with smoke, then the wind blew, parting some of the gray billows, and I could see buildings in flame. Panic seized me, my heart hammering so forcefully I thought it would explode.

  “Narian!” I cried, but still he did not respond. With no choice but to follow, I stumbled along behind him as we descended the stairs to the main floor. We hurried into the foyer, and he pulled me toward a set of large doors on our left. We went inside to find the High Priestess pacing in front of a regal, imposing throne set with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and rubies. Six shield maidens surrounded her, Rava among them.

  “Your Highness, we must stay here. The stone of the temple will protect you from the fires,” insisted Narian’s former second-in-command. Despite the logic of the argument, the High Priestess did not seem pleased with the suggestion.

  “No, I must ride to Hytanica and deal with the province once and for all. This is the last time I will tolerate their insolence.”

  Nantilam’s words were like blows upon my chest, and her gaze pierced me like a war lance when it fell upon us.

  “You!” she snarled, her glower intended for Narian. He walked unflinchingly toward her, keeping me close to his side. “You knew of this plot! Confess the part you have played and I will perhaps spare your life.”

  Narian put a hand on my shoulder, telling me to stay where I was, then took a few steps closer to the woman who had been like a mother to him. I stood frozen, waiting along with her to hear his answer. What was going on? What had Narian done?

  “I am not a part of this,” he declared.

  Nantilam quickly closed the remaining distance between them. She was infuriated, her green eyes flaring as vividly as the flames outside.

  “But you know more than you have told me.” Her voice was low, dangerous, rumbling with anger.

  “I know that the Hytanicans’s first rebellion was meant to distract us, and that those captured willingly sacrificed their lives. I know that right now, the men you wanted to execute are waging one last fight to reclaim their kingdom.”

  My head was spinning, both at the news and at my own idiocy. How could I have failed to see this? How could I not have known it would happen? I had chosen to be blind, even when Narian had all but begged me to come to Cokyri with him. I hadn’t wanted to see it. But the clues had been there. Now people were dying in Hytanica. Someone, probably London, had set the fires here in Cokyri to hinder the arrival of messengers from the province with word of the revolt and to forestall the High Priestess from sending reinforcements. We were trapped and helpless, able only to imagine the battle taking place on the other side of the river.

  “I knew something was amiss,” the High Priestess simmered. “I knew it the moment I saw Alera with you. You’re a traitor, Narian.”

  He shook his head, his expression hard. “I am no traitor. I did everything you asked of me. I conquered Hytanica for you and the Overlord, I administered the province as you wanted for months, and I did not plot against you.” Narian’s voice dropped to a fierce whisper. “I am not to blame for what is happening today—for giving the Hytanicans a fair chance at retaking what is rightfully theirs. My only sin is that I did not try to stop them.”

  Nantilam scrutinized him for what seemed an eternity.

  “I listened to you,” she vehemently said at last. “I loved you, and I trusted you, and I fought not to lose you after my brother’s death.”

  “You never trusted me,” Narian contradicted, interrupting whatever else she had intended to say. “And with good reason. You believe the only way to repay a betrayal is with a betrayal. You betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. You lied to me my entire life, trained me and used me as a weapon, never telling me the real reason I was of value to you.” His blue eyes flashed, their sapphire brilliance rivaling the ever-changing emerald sparks in hers. “But I will no longer be manipulated for your causes, and I will not become another warlord. You can consider yourself repaid.”

  The High Priestess’s rage built to a frightening level, her body almost shaking with the effort to retain control. Her shield maidens watched in fear from where they stood near her throne, while I locked my knees to force myself to stay in place. Then she backhanded Narian across the face, forcefully enough that he stumbled.

  “You will regret what you have done, Narian,” she swore as he brought a hand to his cheek. “The Hytanicans will not succeed. You will pay for protecting their leaders from execution and for your willingness to step aside.”

  “They may very well succeed. Don’t pretend otherwise. This is no longer a game of tug of war, Your Highness. It is a game of chess. And as you well know, Cannan and London have always been masterful strategists.”

  “London?”

  “Yes, he is alive and well. I suspect he is responsible for the chaos that surrounds us.”

  At the mention of London, my eyes snapped to Narian, and my heart ached to hear more. But something in Nantilam’s visage changed, and she turned away to take up her throne.

  “So you have lent no assistance to the Hytanicans—you have not armed them, have not repositioned our troops to aid their strike, have not left our soldiers without strong leadership?”

  “No, I have not. Our forces are in place, and I took all the usual precautions before traveling here as you ordered.”

  “Then it may indeed be interesting to see what the Hytanicans can do. Cannan as a commander long rivaled my brother, and London…well, a man such as London is rare. If he and I had not been enemies, I would have chosen him to father my own child.”

  My heart lurched at this revelation, but Narian showed no reaction, continuing to stand stiffly before her. The High Priestess met his eyes, evaluating him for another long moment.

  “I have wondered always what kind of man you would become, Narian. You can believe what you will, but to me you were never just a tool to be forged, an instrument of unique purpose and, therefore, worth. You came to me as a babe in arms, and I treated you as my son to the extent my brother would permit. Now I see that you are also a rare man.”

  Nantilam shifted her commanding eyes to me.

  “And you, Alera, are no doubt part of the reason. Had you been born Cokyrian, you would probably be at my side, one of my trusted shield maidens, for you have more than enough courage and ingenuity to merit such an honor. Again, something I did not expect to find in Hytanica.”

  “Then let’s come to it,” Narian snapped. “Be the wise and fair ruler I grew up believing you to be. If Cannan and his men should succeed in routing our
troops, then accept that outcome and recognize Hytanica as a free land. Negotiate a peace treaty with Alera. Ask for whatever crops and goods Cokyri needs, but trade for them.”

  “You cannot rewrite history, Narian,” she reproached. “Hytanica asked to be conquered the day its king attacked us. I was charged with that crusade before I was even crowned.”

  “You cannot rewrite history, but you don’t have to be controlled by it, either,” he argued, and Nantilam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “In the end, the Overlord’s crusade had little to do with history. He wanted to dominate Hytanica for domination’s sake. That was never your purpose—you fought to preserve your people’s pride and their heritage, you took the actions you believed necessary to ensure your empire’s growth and prosperity. Reaffirm your goals now—recognize that what is best for Cokyri is enduring peace with Hytanica.”

  “And are you giving me advice as the commander of my military, or are you issuing a threat?”

  “I am offering advice,” Narian replied, with a deferential bow, then his tone and posture subtly became more intimidating. “Although I will stand against you if I am forced to make that choice.”

  The High Priestess came to her feet, and for the first time, I saw indecision on her face. If Narian fought against her, any battle with Hytanica would be long and brutal, with no guarantee of victory. The Overlord’s powers had not passed to her, would not in all probability reemerge until Nantilam gave birth to a daughter, so for the time being, Narian held the upper hand.

  Nantilam glared at him for a long time, battling her anger, her pride, her instincts. Then she nodded.

  “I will speak to Alera. Alone.”

  After the room had been cleared, the High Priestess beckoned for me to approach. I complied, but did not show deference, for ruler did not bow to ruler. But neither did I speak, for hers was the first move to make. I waited, strangely calm, for I respected her, but was no longer afraid of her.

  “A treaty with Hytanica is possible,” she declared, walking toward me. “But it is not as simple a matter as Narian makes it sound.”

  I remained silent, waiting for her to set the direction of the conversation, for while I felt I could hold my own with her, I also knew she was far more experienced than I.

  “Our countries have pushed each other to the brink of destruction,” she continued, walking to gaze out a window at the conflagration, and I followed. “We have both lost much, but for enduring peace, we must each gain a victory.”

  She assessed me, her eyes calculating. “I did not misjudge you, back when you were living in exile in that cave. We can work together, but Hytanica must make certain concessions.”

  “Then state your demands.”

  “You already know we desire crops, tools, seed, planting and irrigation knowledge. I am willing to trade for those things—jewels, precious metals and advancements we have that you have yet to discover. I have other concerns, however. The first is perhaps the most significant. Will your kingdom recognize you as its ruler or will it clamor for a King?”

  Her question took me aback, but I knew better than to be insulted. She was well aware of the history of my kingdom and was well informed as to the unsettled state of provincial rule.

  “Yes, they will,” I asserted, making steady eye contact. “Over the past six months, the citizens have been adjusting to me in that role. I have dealt with their concerns, eased their pain, guided the rebuilding of our city, reestablished foreign trade and reinstated some of our traditions, such as the Harvest Festival. And I am their Queen, duly crowned and with the right by blood to the throne. I can also assure you that no one will be crowned King, for Narian is the man to whom I will bind myself. But just as it is here in Cokyri, I will not head the military.”

  “And the men—Cannan, London, Steldor, the others—you can control them?”

  “No,” I answered honestly. “Nor would I want to. But they will not go behind my back. Neither will they flout me. We learned to work with one another and trust each other when we were in exile. I will always seek their advice, but I will be the one making the decisions.

  “Very well, then. Peace may well be possible.”

  She strode across the room to take up position on her throne, leaving me to once more follow. Having spent much time observing my father during his reign as King, I knew she was posturing. What I didn’t know was the reason she felt it was necessary.

  Nantilam rested her forearms on the arms of the throne, watching me, and I forced myself to wait her out. At last she spoke, picking up an earlier thread in our rather one-sided conversation.

  “While peace is possible, Alera, each side must have its victory. Trade is an even proposition, and your kingdom is regaining its freedom. As Cokyri’s ruler, there are two things that I must have.”

  “And what would those things be?” For the first time I felt apprehensive, and Cannan’s long ago words about the ability of the Cokyrians to manipulate surfaced in my mind.

  “First, the trails we have laid through the mountains and forest will remain in place, making transportation of what we need less laborious. The same is true of the bridge to the east that my engineers constructed across the Recorah River. Second, Cokyrian citizens and official envoys must be permitted to enter and depart Hytanica without search or suspicion. We are to be treated in the same manner as you treat citizens of the Kingdoms of Emotana, Sarterad and Gourhan.”

  I hesitated, weighing this demand carefully. This was an issue of trust. In the end, I decided to trust my own military leaders to maintain vigilance

  “Agreed, although the same terms should apply to any Hytanican who wants to visit Cokyri.”

  The High Priestess’s eyes narrowed, but her voice remained unruffled when she next spoke.

  “Very well. That leaves us with one final issue to discuss, Alera, and it is perhaps the most important one. Narian must stay in Cokyri.”

  I stared at her, the blood pounding in my ears, appalled and angry, for this demand went too far. Narian was his own man, was Hytanican by birth and choice, and he and I were to marry.

  “Narian is not a bargaining point,” I indignantly declared. “He will not be part of any treaty as though he is a possession.”

  “He will not be mentioned specifically in the treaty, but nonetheless, this issue is not negotiable. Narian has power that I intend to control. For me to do that, he must be here. When the time comes, I will choose an appropriate partner for him, and she will bear his child. I know the origins of Narian’s power, but not if it will run in his blood. And I will not risk that it will. Any child of his will be Cokyrian.”

  I was dumbfounded, furious, aghast, indignant—more emotions than I would have thought possible to register in the blink of an eye.

  “Narian will never acquiesce to such terms.”

  “If there is to be lasting peace between our countries, then he must agree.” Nantilam leaned forward, her expression shrewd, and I knew everything Cannan had ever said about her was true. “It is up to you to convince him.”

  “I will not, nor could I.”

  “This is the test of a ruler, Alera. Will you sacrifice one for the good of all? Will you give up your own happiness for the good of your kingdom?”

  “If my countrymen have been victorious this day, no treaty between us will be necessary,” I boldly asserted. “We will be free of our own accord.”

  “A very short respite.” Her eyes hardened, and the cordial tone in her voi
ce disappeared, to be replaced by menace. “I will not hesitate to attack. We have always had superior numbers and weaponry. And the next time you are overrun, I will not be so foolish as to leave any of your military leaders alive. Your people will be enslaved, so dominated that no Hytanican will ever again look a Cokyrian in the eye.”

  I struggled not to break eye contact with her, even though her powerful aura diminished me. “Narian and I will not let that happen,” I stated, as firmly as I could. “He will take away any chance you might have for victory, and by the time Cokyri’s defeat is secured, I will be twice the ruler and twice the woman you are.”

  “I think not,” she said, with an artful tone that I did not like. “Did you really think I would give Narian the option of opposing me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He will have trusted his mother, taken me at my word, and he will have consumed the refreshment he was offered.”

  “What have you done?” I gasped, horrified at what I was hearing.

  “He will be in pain by now, having drunk the poison I provided. And I am the only one who can save him. So you see, it is your choice, how you lose him. You can give him over to me, or you can let him die.”

  I staggered away from her, unable to think, unable to believe she could have done something so monstrous. “Why? Why would you do this? How could you do this?”

  “Because I am able to sacrifice one for the good of all.”

  “Where is he?”