In the daylight, the green glow that had illuminated the drainage tunnel couldn’t be seen, though he knew it was still there. His fingers hovered over the nobbed end of the staff, testing the air around it and finding nothing unusuaclass="underline" no heat, no pain, no magical pulse.
“Curse this magical superstition.”
He grasped the end and tugged hard, expecting difficulty in freeing it from its ties, but the stick slipped out without hindrance.
“Finally,” he grumbled aloud, “something goes right.”
He held the staff with his left hand and repositioned himself, fighting through the pain as he put his weight on his right foot, hoping that it came out of the stirrup more easily than his left when he took his fall. He rocked forward, testing its strength. It held his bulk without pain.
“All right then. Here we go.”
The general pulled hard on the staff and heaved himself to standing on his good leg. His left foot touched the ground gingerly for balance and he suddenly felt that, if he fell again, he wouldn’t be able to get back up and might die within sight of his goal.
It took a minute for him to feel comfortable in this upright position but once he did, Sienhin oriented himself toward the capital and took his first step. It jostled his shoulder, sending more pain down his arm and through his chest. He gritted his teeth, accepting and absorbing the hurt.
“Hmm,” he grunted and allowed himself a half-smile, then took the next step, this time necessarily putting weight on his injured ankle.
It threatened to give out and he stumbled but caught himself with the staff. The pain made his head spin and he closed his eyes tight to keep vertigo from throwing him to the ground. He sighed deeply, opened his eyes and stared toward Achtindel.
“For the kingdom,” he said and took another step.
***
Emeline felt the rumble of many hooves before she heard them. She raised her head from feeding Iana and looked first at the door, then across the room at her husband. Lehgan sat on the floor staring down, lost in his own thoughts as he had been for days. She shook her head slightly; she didn’t understand why, after what happened, it seemed like he was the one who was angry.
“What is that?” she asked.
Lehgan raised his eyes from the floor and opened his mouth to speak but instead stopped and listened.
“Horses,” he said-the first time he’d spoken to her in three days. “Lots of them.”
He climbed to his feet and moved to the door where he poked his head around the corner to peer down the avenue. After a minute, he stepped fully into the doorway.
“Do you see anything?”
“No.” He crossed the threshold.
Emeline stood, coaxed her nipple out of the sleeping baby’s mouth, and pulled her dress up to cover her breast before crossing to stand behind her husband. This was the closest they’d been to each other in days, and she immediately felt the heat radiating off him. She wanted to reach out and touch his back, stroke his hair, but stopped herself from doing so.
“I’m going to see what’s going on,” he said and strode out into the avenue.
“Wait, I’ll come with you.”
Emeline wet back to the bed and retrieved the blanket to keep Iana warm.
“No, stay here. It might not be safe.”
Before she opened her mouth to protest, Lehgan disappeared down the street toward the courtyard.
“Lehgan,” she called after him as she hurried to the door. “Lehgan!”
He didn’t stop, though she felt sure he heard her. Her lips pressed together in anger. After what they’d been through, hadn’t she proven herself more than a helpless farm wench? She brooded for only a moment before hurriedly wrapping Iana in the blanket and starting down the street, keeping her distance behind her husband lest he know she followed him.
He’s trying to reclaim his manhood by lording over me.
The thought made her more angry at first, but other thoughts followed it closely.
He wants to take care of me. He wants to make up for letting me down. He’s talking to me again.
She loved him-of that she was sure-so as a good wife, she should allow him to do those things, to do whatever he felt necessary to win back her trust and respect. She should be happy he wanted to do so.
But it doesn’t mean I have to sit and wait for him.
Ahead, the avenue opened onto the courtyard and Emeline saw a crowd of people already gathered to see the horses and riders. Lehgan reached them and pushed his way between an old woman straining to see over the taller people standing in front of her and a man so tall, he easily saw over everyone. After a few seconds, the crowd shifted, closing in behind him, and hiding her husband from her.
When Emeline reached the end of the avenue, she went to the left, away from where Lehgan stood, and weaved her way through the throng of people. The smell of unwashed bodies pressed together was overpowering and she held her hand over her nose to keep from breathing in the stench.
The sound of many horses came from the gate that opened on the salt flats, and she saw the dust cloud raised by their hooves. The people standing in front of her prevented her from seeing more, so she endeavored to make her way between them to the front of the crowd.
Perhaps it will smell better, too.
One man shot her an angry look as she squeezed past him, but then he relented when he saw Iana in Emeline’s arms and offered her his spot.
“Thank you,” Emeline said and took his place at the front of the crowd.
The gate was large enough to allow eight horses across its width, and the Kanosee riders took advantage of every inch. The column of mounted soldiers moved forward at a slow walk, the sound of armor and weapons clattering adding to the din of hoof beats pounding the ground. One rider sat apart from the others at the head of the procession-a woman.
She sat tall in the saddle, her yellow-blond hair loose and cascading over the black cloak covering her shoulders. She wore a purple chemise with wide sleeves and black riding pants, but no armor beneath her cape, though all the soldiers following her did. Emeline looked from the woman to the men behind her.
The first row of warriors immediately behind her were monsters. They wore black armor splashed with red, and their faces were the faces of the dead. Emeline had heard rumors around the fortress of these dead men brought back to life to fight for the Kanosee, though she’d not seen one until now. She hugged Iana close and wished she hadn’t seen one at all.
The crowd watched mostly in silence, only occasional gasps as someone caught sight of one of the monstrosities for the first time disturbing it. Emeline looked away from the hideous faces and back at the woman. As appalling as the soldiers were, the woman’s beauty surpassed them in attracting attention. Her hair bounced gently with the horse’s gait; a lop-sided smile made her face looked relaxed and unworried.
With fewer than ten horse lengths between them, the woman’s gaze found Emeline’s. The horses approached and she found herself unable to look away from the woman, mesmerized by her hair, her smile, the paleness of her skin, the darkness in her eyes. As her horse drew even with the spot where Emeline stood, the Archon raised her hand, stopping the procession, and reined her own horse to a halt.
Half a minute passed as the two women looked at each other. No thoughts entered Emeline’s mind as she gazed upon the woman. She didn’t wonder who she was, or why she stopped where she did; Emeline only admired her beauty and found herself unable to think of anything else until the woman spoke.
“Who are you?”
The words startled her, but Emeline did not reply. The woman leaned forward in her saddle.
“I said: who are you?”
This time, the words broke the spell mesmerizing her and Emeline blinked rapidly a few times, then looked over her shoulder.