by Emily L K
That sobered them. Bottles were lowered and pipes put aside. They exchanged glances, then as one looked to their Head.
“Karaliene,” Tobin coaxed. He said the title as if he spoke to a child.
She scowled. She was a figurehead to him, easily placated, someone who would be in the tales written about him and his army. In the same instant she knew this was her own fault for secluding herself. She’d made it easy for them to trivialise her position.
“No. This nonsense has gone on long enough. You think this a formidable army? The Advisor will die of old age before we reach Lautan if we continue at this rate.”
“Ho now.” A tall, weedy man leaned forward in his chair, tapping his pipe over an ashtray. He had the haughty air of a Hiram aristocrat and Cori recognised him as the man they called ‘Cobra’. She didn’t know his real name but apparently he had developed a technique with his magic whereby he could make a concentrated attack to the throat akin to a snake bite. She wished her own magic wasn’t so drained. If she were at even half her normal strength she’d like to see him take her on. “Just who are you saying is not formidable?”
“You. All of you,” The fury rose again, hot and unquenchable. She jabbed a finger at Cobra. “I will not tolerate this anymore. I will speak to you all tomorrow. At dawn.” She departed, but not before she saw Tobin’s expression. She’d lost his confidence, she decided as she took in the hard set of his jaw and crossed arms before the tent flaps closed. She perhaps shouldn’t have belittled him in front of his men, but she’d been too furious to think it through.
His son was another story. Orin still walked beside her, a silent protector. She had underestimated him. She needed to choose her allies more carefully in the future.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Cori woke to a silent camp. The first thing she did, as she did every morning, was check her eyes in a small brass hand mirror. There was no change to the colour: still a dull gold intersected with bright veins of blue. She packed her things, brushing her fingers over the cover of Jarrah’s book in the bottom of her pack. She hadn’t opened it yet to read it. Rowan may have written about her and she wasn’t sure she could take it yet. She hoped he’d come back soon, but if his energy was as slow as hers to renew then she doubted he would have even left the place the dragon had taken him to be healed. If he was alive that is. He’d been in a much worse shape than she.
When the tent was dismantled, she folded it neatly and tied it and her bedroll to her pack. So far she‘d travelled lightly, not like the accompanying nobles some of whom had carts full of furniture and lavish goods in their contingents. After the events of the night before she felt like setting fire to every unnecessary item in the camp.
She was saddling Sunny when Orin appeared. His hair was mussed and his eyes heavy, but he was dressed to go and his pack was on his shoulder. He didn’t speak as he dissembled his tent and put it into his own luggage then helped Cori fasten her pack to the back of the saddle.
Neither of them mentioned the still camp around them, doubly muted under the layer of fog that had descended in the night. Cori still had enough simmering anger within her to not care whether a single soldier had risen, let alone the nobles she’d berated, but she was quietly glad that Orin had chosen to heed her. For the moment, his acknowledgement of her directions was enough to keep her moving. Neither of them looked back as they turned their mounts to the road and headed south.
The head of the army caught up to them by mid-morning. They’d ridden hard, their horses caked in foaming sweat, and it looked as if they’d been roused and put on the road quickly. Faces were pinched, some green with hangovers. The hair of the nobles, normally slick in their styles, had been hastily put into place and most of them looked utterly ridiculous.
Cori looked to Orin as they approached and whispered, “are you with me?”
“Of course, why would you ask that?” He frowned. Cori held his gaze until realisation dawned on him. The creases smoothed from his forehead, and he sat up straighter. “Yes,” he said solemnly, “I’m with you.”
Cori steered Sunny back to face the army as it slowed to a halt before her. Her heart hammered at having the focus of so many on her, her sweaty palms tightening on the reins.
“From now on we will ride hard to Lautan. We’ll leave before the sun rises and we will not stop until it sets.” She took a deep breath but ploughed on before any could interrupt her, “and the next person I find who has overindulged in drink, grybas or herbs will answer directly to me, and believe me when I say I will take nothing less than his or her head.”
The message was passed back down the ranks in whispers, but Cori ignored them. Instead she held Tobin’s furious stare. This order may be her undoing. Her claim of the throne required the backing of at least a few of the states and she knew she walked a fine line between asserting herself as their ruler and losing their support. She wished Rowan were here, she had no idea how to do this. Nonetheless, her eyes remained locked with Tobin’s until the Head of Resso looked away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In the days that followed, Resso’s men and women took heed of Cori’s threat. They moved towards Lautan with a much greater efficiency. Their obedience was something she was secretly grateful for. She shuddered to imagine what she’d have to do if they’d disregarded her. Fighting for her life was a scenario that crossed her mind often when she thought back over the delivery of her orders.
Two more days found them at the crossroads to Tengah. Not a single cloud marred the sky as they paused on the wide dirt road. The army were the only ones there, but by the looks of the smooth road and neat signposts, Cori decided it was probably quite a busy intersection. The weather was warming up the further south they got, and she was relieved to be returning to a milder climate than the harsh north.
The sun warmed her back as she approached Tobin to request he send an three contingents to the capital of Hearth to rouse Shannyn to their aid or to lay siege to his city so he couldn’t flank them It was as strategy they hadn’t spoken about since their initial planning in Bandar Utara and Tobin had been of the opinion that it was wasted resources to be laying siege to Tengah as well as Lautan. The idea had been one of Rowan’s though, and the few things she’d heard in that war council were the only strategy she had.
After her outburst a few days ago she’d relinquished control back to Tobin and his war council which seemed to subdue him. She allowed him to maintain the chair position in meetings and, though she listened more carefully now, she gave minimal input. She was nervous now about requesting a change of plans, but he gave the contingent their marching orders without question, albeit grudgingly.
While they waited for the contingents to prepare to leave, Cori sought out Orin.
“How did he take it?” he asked as she approached. He was bent double, checking his horse’s hooves for stones and Cori stopped near the bay’s head. She shrugged.
“He scowled at me but didn’t argue, so I guess that’s something.”
Orin held out his hand towards a satchel of tools nearby. “Can you pass me that pick?” Cori obliged.
She’d been making an effort to engage Orin more. To his credit he raised none of her previous discretions and acted as if they’d been friends since they’d first met. His unwavering optimism slowly lifted her spirits, and she found that she didn’t dwell on her dilemmas so often and her dreams weren’t as dark.
She did have to wonder how much of his attitude was put on though. Surely the tension between herself and his father caused him some worry. And she certainly didn’t relish the arguments she’d had with Tobin. On her return from Bandar Utara he’d taken her in when he could have easily turned her back out or executed her so she hoped deep down he had some faith in her. But in the meantime she wasn’t sure what she could do to rectify the situation without completely losing control of the army again.
It was just one of the many dilemmas she found herself thinking on while she sat by the fire she shared with Orin of an evening
now. They were perhaps two days from the border of Hale and an undercurrent of anticipation was building in the camp as the soldiers prepared to enter the territory of their main enemy. Orin held a lyre in his lap and his fingers plucked a pretty melody from the strings.
Across the fire, a few others had joined them to listen to the music and have their evening meals. Saul, captain of the Hiram soldiers and the man who’d arrested herself and Rowan upon their entry to Resso was there and he talked quietly to Bellia, the only noblewoman to sit on Tobin’s war council. The men tolerated her in these meetings but Cori admired the woman’s frank assessment of situations and her ability to take her male counterparts head on. On Orin’s other side was Timone, Cobra’s son, though he was as courteous as Orin and had none of his father’s arrogance. Orin switched from his lilting music to a bawdy tavern song.
Ol’ Bodee dealt him a blow to the head,
Only to find that Gale was a woman instead!
Cori couldn’t help it; she joined Saul and Timone in their raucous laughter.
“Well, I think that’s me done for the night,” Bellia said in an affronted tone, though she smiled as she stood. There was a shout from the camp behind them and Cori glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t see anything in the dark and she turned back to the fire. Saul was getting to his feet as well, offering to walk Lady Bellia back to her tent.
“Good night, Karaliene,” Saul offered, “and you, Orin.”
Both smiled at the captain, though Orin continued to pluck idly at his lyre. Timone stood and stretched. “I’m off too,” he said, “these early mornings really take it out of me.” But he offered the words with a smile at Cori to show that her mandated travel times didn’t really bother him.
There was another shout from behind them and this time other voices accompanied it. They were low, attempting to hush the shouter, trying to keep quiet. Orin and Timone exchanged a wary glance. Cori's stomach clenched; someone had disobeyed her.
“Cori,” Orin warned as she stood and faced the camp. He put his lyre carelessly to one side and jumped up to grab at her arm, “you don’t have to do this. Just pretend you didn’t hear.” She pulled her arm away and continued towards the disturbance.
Other nobles exited their tents to see what the commotion was about. A little way off Saul and Lady Bellia turned towards the camp, frowns upon their faces. Saul said something dismissive then he noticed Cori’s direction and his eyes widened a little. He dropped his friend’s arm and moved out of sight among the tents. Cori quickened her steps, her heart racing. Would they would try to stop her?
When she reached the source of the commotion, she found a man on staggering feet, head thrown back as he yelled incomprehensibly towards the stars. The nearby campfire illuminated his face and Cori could see his slack features and glassy eyes. It was likely he’d taken grybas and with a renewed clenching in her gut, she knew she’d have to carry out her threat.
“What’s going on here?” Tobin appeared at the edge of the circle, around to Cori’s right, but not close by.
The handful of soldiers who had been trying to subdue the man jumped at their leader’s voice. They looked about quickly as if only just noticing the gathering crowd. The drugged man lifted his hand, clawing as if he could pull the stars to himself. He shouted something unintelligible.
“Can’t you shut him up?” Tobin said angrily, moving into the circle. Cori stepped forward too.
Most of the spectators turned to Tobin but the head of Resso had seen her. “Karaliene,” he said awkwardly, “I’m sorry if we woke you. I’ll deal with this hooligan, and we’ll all be able to go back to bed.”
“That’s quite all right,” she said softly. She noticed that the others in the centre of the circle with the perpetrator were also glassy eyed. She wouldn’t have enough strength for all of them but she’d still teach them a lesson, “I was still up.”
“Karaliene!” The man had noticed her, though his head flopped about on his shoulders like a newborn babe. “Come for my head, Karaliene? Nothing less?” His companions tried to shush him.
“You forgot your sword, Karaliene!” The man laughed wildly at his own joke and the sound echoed over the whispering spectators. “Here, take mine!” He wrenched at the sword on his hip, taking two attempts to draw it. When the blade came free from its sheath, he swung it wildly, scattering his fellows and leaving himself alone by the fire.
Cori raised her hands and turned them over to inspect her palms. Her magic roused within her. Slow and lethargic, the notes wove together into a strengthening song.
“Cori,” Orin warned from behind her. Tobin was striding towards her from across the circle, Cobra at his shoulder. Not far off from them, she could see Saul with his hand on his knife handle, though the captain’s eyes were on the man waving his sword about.
She lifted her hands before her face and held them deliberately apart. Calmness descended, slowing her heartbeat, muting the noise around her. Her Hum whirled up, filling her mind and feeding her strength.
“Here, Karaliene, you’ll need this!” The man tossed his sword towards her. Her palms came together. His head exploded.
There was a collective intake of breath, and the sword landed in the dirt at her feet with a hollow thud. Tobin staggered to a halt as if he’d been hit. The whites of his eyes showed and he stared at the now silent perpetrator. The headless body staggered two steps, then he keeled backwards and landed in the mess of his own pulverised skull and brains. A bloody red mist hung in the air.
There was nothing except the calm beat of her heart thudding steadily against her rib cage. Her vision blackened at the edges but she stayed on her feet. She’d used up the small store of magic she’d been able to gain back over the past weeks but she was sure nobody would test her limits again. She almost smiled.
Simple, it had been so simple to kill him. A clap of her hands. She’d barely felt the pressure between them. And he was dead. Very. Deliberately. Dead.
The circle of people were still and silent, eyes either on her or the body, but all the faces around the circle were ghostly. Cori turned and found Orin behind her. He had his knife drawn, and he met her eye.
His expression was tormented, and she knew her life was his to decide upon. He could kill her right now, avenge the murder of one of his countrymen, and be rid of the monstrous girl who had crushed a skull with only her hands. He alone would have some idea of how vulnerable she was in this moment. His nostrils flared and his grip on the knife tightened. Cori didn’t move.
Their eyes stayed locked for what seemed an eternity. Then in one movement Orin sheathed his knife and stepped aside so she could pass. The crowd murmured. Those closest to her moved hastily away. She’d expected Tobin to call her back as she left, but he remained as stunned as the rest of them. A single glance over her shoulder showed her the soldiers watching her go, their forms silhouetted against the fire, expressions masked by the darkness.
She didn’t stop for a long time. She walked back through the camp, past the soldiers running to find out what had happened, past the row of tents pitched for the nobility and out into the night. She walked across the uneven terrain and up a grassy hillside. It wasn’t until she reached the top, until she was staring into the glittering universe above, that she stopped. A slight breeze lifted her hair from her neck. The landscape lay in darkness, no lights to mark towns or villages visible. A cow bellowed forlornly in the valley below.
She sank to the ground and let her wariness and misery take her. There was no sadness over the man‘s death, nor guilt. For that act she felt nothing more than a numbing sensation. Rather, she worried over the depletion of her magic again and how she would restore enough of it before they reached Lautan. Shoulders slumped, she plucked at the grass between her feet.
She knew Orin had followed her so she wasn’t surprised when he finally gained the hilltop and sat down beside her. For a while he said nothing, but she was aware of him watching her. She kept her gaze on the stars. The numbne
ss that held her was fading; she’d have to confront her actions soon.
“Did the Karalis teach you that trick?” Orin asked finally. His tone was a mixture of awe and trepidation.
“No.” Rowan was the last person she wanted to think about right now; he’d have horrified by what she’d done. Shoulders slumped, she plucked at the grass between her feet. “He didn’t like killing.”
“No one should like killing.”
Cori couldn’t think of a response. The numbness was gone, but she still wasn’t regretful, in fact she felt powerful. She’d had that man’s life in her hands and she’d crushed it as easily as a bug underfoot.
“So the Karalis didn’t like killing,” Orin mused after a moment’s pause. “That’s surprising considering he always looked like he could do a man in just by meeting his eye.”
That was the difference between them, Cori thought. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. The Karalis had killed no one during his reign aside from Daze and his men, as far as she was aware. He’d always been able to cow his subjects with a look and a few choice words in their heads. She wasn’t so lucky in her talents. Orin continued to talk.
“- Why he took a lover as ruthless as you.”
“He wasn’t -“ Cori stopped. She worried sometimes that Orin had romantic feelings for her. Perhaps if she let him think Rowan had been her lover, then he wouldn’t try anything on with her. And Rowan would have been her lover, she reminded herself, if they’d come out of the same side of the forest. Maybe they would be in the future if he found his way home. If he was still alive.
“You do that a lot,” Orin once more penetrated her thoughts.
“What?”
He nodded towards her chest and the fist clenched over it again.
With effort, she unfurled her fingers and wrapped her arm back around her knees. Her eyes closed briefly and she drew a long breath. She had to remind herself that Orin was kind to her. His continued observations of her weaknesses wouldn’t go beyond the two of them.
