“Sometimes the people need to see strength, even if it is false.”
“I refuse to believe that, Ahaesarus. And to be honest, I would not take him under my wing again even if I could. For nearly ninety-five years I have been something I am not, playing a game I was ill suited to play. I was a warrior in our past life. It is time I became that again.”
They paused at the base of the hill leading up to Manse DuTaureau, and Ahaesarus glanced over to see a gleam in his fellow Warden’s eye, a smile playing on his lips. Strangely enough, given what had transpired that night, Judarius seemed relieved.
“You look quite pleased with yourself,” Ahaesarus said.
“I am,” the black-haired Warden replied. He waved his hand at the Manse dismissively. “You can play politics all you like, Ahaesarus. Azariah can pray and practice his spells with his students. For me, for the rest of our kind. . we’re warriors now. Protectors. Innocent lives depend on us to kill, and so we kill. Is there not purity in that simplicity? Is there not an order that even Karak could appreciate?”
Ahaesarus understood completely. Though he was not the fearless and eager warrior Judarius had proven himself to be, he still had to admit there was a certain clarity about the battlefield that made him feel alive. Much more alive than the hours he was required to spend with the king and Lady Isabel.
“You were a sight to behold tonight, my friend,” he told Judarius. “Because of you, and Patrick and his Turncloaks, we can sleep this morning away, knowing we are safe.”
“We’re not safe,” Judarius said. “Not yet. But you may sleep without fear. I dare say that’s close enough.”
The Warden loped off, and Ahaesarus took a deep breath, trying to clear his muddled thoughts before climbing the hill. What had once been mild irritation became full-on dread once he reached the Manse itself. Isabel DuTaureau was outside waiting for him, wearing a satin nightdress, rouge painting her cheeks, her fiery red hair set just so. He let out a sigh of frustration. Mordeina was a place of war, of heartache and pain. Yet this woman still looked as if she lived in luxury without a care in the world. Had she learned nothing from the death of her daughter?
“Lady DuTaureau,” Ahaesarus said, inclining his head to her.
“We must talk, Ahaesarus,” said Isabel. Her voice was cold and full of disdain. She had been this way ever since she’d reemerged from her bedchamber, refusing to call him Master Warden and treating him more like a nuisance than a friend. She will never forgive me for releasing Geris against her will, he thought. That was one decision that Ahaesarus would never regret, no matter how much abuse the small but influential woman heaped on him for it. Geris Felhorn was hopefully far away from Mordeina by now, safe and with the young girl he loved by his side. If anyone in Paradise deserved a chance at happiness, it was he.
“What is it?” Ahaesarus asked.
“Your presence is not required. Go home.”
“Go home? I have duties to attend to. I must speak with the boy.”
“No. I forbid it.”
Ahaesarus felt flustered and angry. I tire of the games as well, Judarius, he thought. “Where is Howard?” he asked, a cruel edge to his voice.
“I gave him the morning to rest. Sir Howard spent the evening calming your frightened wards and taking complaints. He was quite tired.”
“Yes, and we did nothing but stand around all evening,” he said sarcastically. “In case it failed to wake you, our walls were attacked last night. Karak’s children almost broke down our gate. If not for those of us on the wall, if not for Patrick, we-”
She snapped her fingers in his face, cutting him off. “Do not take that tone with me, Warden, nor mention my son in my presence again. I am not blind to what goes on in my home, to my people.”
“So they are your people now, are they?” he shot back, his anger melting away his exhaustion. “I thought they were Ashhur’s-and after him, our noble King Benjamin’s?”
Isabel looked as if she was about to scream, but she snapped her mouth shut. Her whole body shuddered for a moment, like she were trying to rid her body of an invading demon, and when she looked up at him once more, her manner was calm.
“I will not fight with you, Ahaesarus,” she said, her tone once again devoid of emotion. “As much as I wish it weren’t so, you still hold your position within our society. We must work together to cure the ills of our people. Go to them. Leave here.”
She turned on her heels and stormed into the manse.
Clenching his fists, Ahaesarus followed after her.
“I told you to leave!” Isabel snapped.
“No!” he shot back at her. “You cannot stop me from speaking with the boy.”
Isabel cursed and stomped along the corridor. Ahaesarus remained by her side, refusing to walk ahead of her or trail behind. He took a perverse sort of pleasure in the way that made her fume. They passed the manse’s central hub in an uncomfortable silence. It was not until the double doors leading into the makeshift throne room came into view that Ahaesarus spoke.
“You do the boy a disservice, Isabel,” he said calmly, breaking the silence. “He needs to be among the populace. His people-your people-are hurting. It would do them good to see their king among them, talking to them, helping to quell their fears. It is what a king is supposed to do. It is what Ashhur wanted of us.”
Isabel smirked. “There will be no need of that,” she said. Gone was her anger, replaced by the coldness Ahaesarus had come to know so well. “Young King Benjamin has no need to hear what has happened, nor does he need to see the horror of its aftermath.”
Ahaesarus stopped short. “Then whatever would you have him do?”
“What a king is supposed to do-whatever is best for his kingdom.” A sick sort of smile came over Isabel’s face. “There have been many complaints coming in over the past few days that the rations are not enough to adequately feed the many families outside. King Benjamin is going to stop the rationing and allow all to have their share.”
The Master Warden stepped back, his anger overtaken by horror.
“Are you insane? Our stores are almost empty! Even with rationing they will last two weeks at most. Winter is fast approaching; plants are not taking root in the soil; and there are entire communities forced to camp on much of our farmland. And you wish to give everyone what they ask for? What would you have us do when our food runs out?”
She huffed at him. “You think this war will last long enough for that to occur?” she asked. The venom had returned. “Our god, my creator, is useless. He is already defeated. Karak will overpower us, and all you see before you will be no more.”
Ahaesarus couldn’t respond. He didn’t know how to.
“Do you not see, Warden?” Isabel continued. “We have lost. We are done for. Let the people drink and eat to their hearts’ content before they die.”
“You. . you’ve given up.” He couldn’t believe how sure the woman sounded, how resolute.
“I have accepted reality. Karak is the stronger, Ashhur the weaker. If Nessa had been Karak’s child, he never would have allowed her to perish the way she did. He would have put those who ended her to the sword. While Ashhur lies on a slab, doing nothing, Karak brings forth the justice our god claims to represent.”
Ahaesarus’s mouth dropped open. It seemed Isabel was enjoying how much horror he expressed at her words.
Isabel laughed. “Do not look so shocked, Warden. I know you have thought the same.”
“I have not. I would never surrender my people to die as you have.”