Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (26 page)

“That was a week ago,” he whispers.

Everyone in the room stops. The only sound comes from Sadra’s bustling movements.

“We were told any attempts to reach you would lead to Jimmy’s execution. You can imagine Adox…” He trails off.

I grip his shoulder as tears build in my eyes.

“I can,” I say. Adox would be absolutely distraught at the thought of one of his people coming to harm. This was exactly what he’d feared before I managed to convince him to an alliance with Jovan and myself.

“They’re nearly here,” he says. “They’ve picked up pace, traveling through the night as well. Adox thought … a risk to reach you,” he squeezes his eyes together tightly at Sadra’s prodding. “To warn you,” he gasps.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I know what that might have cost the Ire.”

His eyes begin to close and I give Sadra a frantic look, clutching her wrist. She removes herself from my terrified grip.

“His pulse is still steady. It’s merely the blood loss and fatigue,” she says calmly. I’m not sure if she’s trying to placate me or if that’s the truth.

“I think that’s all we’re going to get,” the king says.

“Why was your face covered?”

I look back down and see Hamish staring at me with unfocused eyes. The blood is everywhere. How can someone survive such an injury? What if he dies never knowing the truth?

“Because I’m Tatuma Olina of Osolis,” I say.

His eyes widen, searching my face for a lie. “Veni…”

“Forgive me?” I ask after a long silence.

“Always,” he says, shock sharpening his wits again. “I just can’t forgive the … person who covered such a … pretty face.”

A couple of tears track down my cheeks and I dash them away and he faints once more. “Please take care of him, Sadra,” I say.

She pats my cheek and shoos me away. I replace my veil, ignoring a penetrating look from Jovan.

I follow the council to the meeting room, Olandon entering with me.

“I’ve sent a message to the front line in the First Sector,” Jovan starts. “Our armies will need to mobilize as soon as possible,” he says. “It will take two days to shift the men, cavalry, and supplies that far. I’ve only left half of our force there.”

“A force will need to stay in the Outer Rings,” Roscoe says immediately.

“How many can we afford?” Jovan asks.

“A quarter,” Drummond responds. “Based on prior reports of the number of Solati approaching, combined with Malir’s reports from the last few days.”

“A quarter?” Jovan says softly. “I need those men.” He paces for a moment.

“All right,” he says, a frown between his brows. “It will take time for news to spread to the remaining rebels in the Third and Fifth Sectors. I give a fifth of the watch for this task. I want numbers focused in the Sixth through Second. If the battle does not require such numbers, I will send men back. The Solati’s group skill is unparalleled. From the Ire’s last report they are two hundred strong. We usually allow five men per Solati. I won’t go in with less than four.”

He turns to Malir. “Give the order; all able-bodied men must be ready to leave for the Great Stairway at first light. I want immediate deployment of the cavalry.”

Malir bows and rushes out of the room.

“Where was the warning from our bloody scouts?” Jovan roars. He turns to Terk. “I want the word to go out that all women and children of the assembly are to remain inside of the castle—effective in the next three hours.”

Jovan’s power emanates from his every motion. He is every inch the king as he barks orders to his subjects.

“What about guards for the women and children?” Jak asks.

“They will need to be taken from the number I’ve left you with,” the king says.

“I worry it’s not enough,” frets Drummond.

“It will have to do,” Jovan replies brusquely before turning to me. “Olina, what will we be facing?”

Olandon freezes beside me, and I also tense. I know what my brother is thinking. Should I, as the Tatuma of the looming army, be helping my enemy? I’m at odds between loyalties to Osolis and doing what I know is right: foiling my mother’s war. The silence thickens. I know many of the people he intends to kill; they are my people. But they brought this unnecessary war to Glacium’s doorstep and there are people I care for here as well. I remind myself of my overall plan and the way forward is clear.

“They may undertake any number of strategies,” I start. “However, we do have certain strategic battle plans. I imagine you are aware of these?”

“Unbelievable,” Olandon says, rising.

I raise my voice. “Have you something to say, brother?” I ask. He’s shaking with so much fury, I wonder if he’ll be able to form the words.

“You are going to help them kill our people?” he says incredulously.

I don’t have time to help him understand as I normally would. I let ice fill my veins and a stranger’s voice, hard and unyielding, comes out of my mouth. “You would do well to stand down,” I say.

He holds my gaze. I read the confusion and anger there. He dips his eyes and steps back to the right of my chair. “Tatuma,” he says in an emotionless voice.

I turn back to the king. “They will do anything to make your numbers useless. The entirety of their force will focus in one area, whatever zone they deign the weakest. They’ll aim to destroy your morale, and to destroy you, as the army’s figurehead.” I doubt anything I’ve said has surprised Jovan. These were normal war tactics. Likely, he’s imagining how he’ll counter this by encircling Mother’s army, to cut them off from retreat. The thought of this slaughter makes me vaguely sick. I curl my trembling hands into tight fists.

“Thank you,” Jovan says softly. He’s belatedly realized what he's asked of me.

I hold up a hand, interrupting him mid-sentence. “I will help you, King Jovan, but I ask you one thing in return.”

He doesn’t speak. We’re not friends in this moment. We are rulers on opposite sides of a war.

“I know there will be casualties, but when your soldiers have the opportunity to take hostages rather than kill, I ask you to show mercy. It is my mother’s greed that forces these women and men to your doorstep. They only follow orders.” I hear a couple of the advisors mutter their dissent. “I also ask that any hostages taken are not mistreated.” I don’t know what happens during questioning, but I can guess.

“Agreed,” Jovan says.

I take a deep breath and close my heart against my brother’s disappointment. “Then there’s more you should know.”

I march with the delegates near the front of the procession, stomping through the shallow snow. My steps are fueled by memories of the unity I saw in the castle when Jovan addressed his assembly. The people in that room yesterday would die for their king—and gladly. The thought that the Bruma will have to do that makes me vaguely sick. “Men” as young as fifteen, walk with us—an unsettling fact. None of the Bruma seemed surprised about children going to battle. Perhaps their reaction was lost in the hour of chaos which erupted after hearing the Tatum’s army was on their doorstep. It wasn’t the only announcement Jovan made. I’m not sure telling his people about the Ire amid the chaos he’d already unleashed was wise. But I suppose if the Ire showed up at the battle, the momentary mayhem it caused for the assembly back at the castle would escalate to something a lot more like anarchy.

Shard strides beside me, having arrived to meet with the king this morning. He’d met with the bedlam of an army trying to ready itself. Jovan allowed all of two minutes to tell the ex-barracks member of his new position as an advisor and the head of my personal guard for the duration of the battle. Ice and Blizzard jumped on board immediately, not giving Shard any say in the matter. They would keep him humble. The remainder of my guard was made up of Sanjay, Ashawn, and Olandon. I know Olandon is furious not to be named in Shard’s place. To say I am unhappy with having a guard at all is an understatement. It is just one of several disagreements I’ve had with the king of Glacium since leaving. I aim a dirty look at Jovan’s back. The same sharp senses which make him a lethal fighter pick up my attention. He turns from where he gathers a report from Malir and Rhone. He can’t see my glare behind the veil, but I keep it up until he turns back to his men.

“I think you’re lucky to be allowed out of the castle,” Shard says quietly.

I laugh darkly. “Just try to leave me behind,” I say.

He holds up his hands. “Wouldn’t dare. But there were a few minutes where I wondered if he’d lock you in your room.”

Things have been awkward with my barracks friend since he revealed I was his father’s murderer. And why wouldn’t they be? I didn’t even blink before killing those men. There wasn’t one hesitation as I opened their throats with stolen daggers. I didn’t stop to think about their families.

“Shard … I killed your father,” I start. How could he have gone this whole time without telling me? Did he hate me?

He grins at me. “Wondered how long it would take you to bring that up,” he replies. His teasing tone takes me aback.

“You’re not—what do you mean?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You did something I should’ve done years ago. My father did things so heinous I’m still sick when I remember them.”

We fall silent. I know the others are listening in as well. His father was a whorehound. I know women were mistreated in front of Shard, but who knows what awful things were done to my friend?

I sigh heavily. “You’re sure?” I ask. “I’m not going to wake up at night and find you standing over me with one of your cute little daggers?”

He laughs. “I have no desire to die,” he says, then adds, “And they’re not cute, they’re manly.”

Fixing our relationship is a small win considering what we’re marching into, but it does make me feel better. I turn my thoughts back to what Jovan said to make me so angry. “Females stay at home,” I scoff. Olandon laughs softly beside me. He seems to have broken the silent treatment today, though I’m left in no doubt as to his true sentiments. It hurt to know my brother viewed me as a traitor. But I’d had to do what I felt was right. I don’t think my feelings got in the way of that…

“I thought you would end him right there,” Olandon says. I furrow my eyebrows at the glee I hear.

“I don’t think it would have come to that.” Although I secretly wonder if it would have. “I don’t know what got into him,” I say with confusion.

“It’s more what he wants to get into,” says Sanjay cryptically. Blizzard and Ice share a grin.

“In those kinds of situations, our actions often don’t make much sense,” Sanjay continues. Ashawn sniggers and Olandon gives him a quizzical look. I puzzle over it as Shard tugs on my arm to guide me around a large tree.

I focus on weaving through the brown trees in the very slow, grating pace of Jovan’s army. The three rings of Glacium are long behind us, and we’ve entered the wilderness directly beyond the Outer Rings. We’d quickly caught up with the cavalry, though they left last night. The dawdling pace we’ve slowed to, to match the cavalry’s progress, puts me on edge. If we didn’t have to move all the bulky weaponry Glacium used, we could have reached the First Sector in a single day. As it currently was, it would take over two days. Ranks of men drag the equipment over roots, snow, and uneven ground now that we’re in the trees, the smoother ring roads no longer present to aid their transport. The uneven step of several hundred men rumbles behind me. Another five hundred wait at the base of the Oscala. Glacium’s army will greatly outnumber my mother’s. It has always been the way of it. Solati skill pitted against Glacium’s population.

“Why don’t you keep the cavalry close to the First Sector?” I ask, voicing my irritation. I look back over my shoulder to see one of the wagons has just bogged. Occasionally, it still astounds me the ground here can get wet enough to sink into.

“Because then the Solati have access to it.” A deep voice speaks in front of me. I bounce off the solid chest of the king. I moving around him, standing on his foot on purpose.

“Are you glaring at me under there?” he asks. I deign this question unworthy of an answer.

“You’d do better with an apology,” Ashawn stage-whispers to his brother. I hear the thud of fist hitting flesh behind me.

“I won’t hold my breath for one,” I mutter.

“Leave us,” Jovan commands. Blizzard elbows Ice to cut off his snigger. I continue forward, trying to escape the king. It would be easier if my legs were longer. Just once I’d like to outwalk him!

“Olina, I just want to protect you. Why can’t you see that?” he says calmly. I stop suddenly, rubbing my temples.

“What if I asked you to stay at the castle,” I say.

His derisive laugh is short, confused. He rests his fists over his sword belt as he answers. “Why, that would be ludicrous.”

“Exactly.” I feel the rough bark under my fingertips as I skirt around a tree.

“You think they’re the same thing? Me asking you, and you asking me?” he asks slowly.

“I can protect myself,” I say. He stops and drags me behind a tree. Uniformed Bruma march past us on either side. He won’t dare touch me. Not with so many curious eyes.

“That’s why you’re angry?” he asks blankly.

“Of course,” I say, exasperated. Has he not been listening at all?

He tilts my chin up. “Since the Dome there’s never been a doubt in my mind as to your fighting ability,” he says. His eyes darken. “I believe you capable of protecting yourself. I just don’t want you to be put in the situation where you need to do so.” He releases my chin.

Finally, progress. “I see. I’m glad we understand each other,” I say.

He nods. “So am I. You can return to the castle with the next messenger and your guard,” he says.

“What!” I blurt.

He stops in his tracks. I note —with rage—he has the audacity to appear puzzled.

“Let me make it clear to
you
, King Jovan,” I snap. “I will not be returning to the castle until the Solati are turned around.”

He looms down at me, his face in front of mine. “Then you will be locked away at the start of battle!” he says, eyes blazing.

I lock wills with him, angry beyond words. “Just try it,” I finally get out.

“It will be my fucking pleasure.”

I turn and stride away. My guard close ranks on me as I move away from Jovan.

“Pig-headed bloody Bruma,” I mutter under my breath.

Ice scoffs. “You can do better than that, girly,” he says. “What about piece of shit-faced wank—” he quiets as King Jovan stalks past the group.

“You were saying?” Shard asks Ice politely.

A reluctant smile crosses my face as the others laugh.

* * *

We don’t stop until the sky begins to dim and the snow is nearly gone. Glacium receives its light from the glow of the fourth’s fire on Osolis. Each night as the smoke rolls out from the Fourth Rotation of my world, Glacium also darkens. It takes the Kaur trees on Osolis most of the night to suck the smoke back and lighten the skies once more. One of the numerous wars between our worlds occurred when my ancestors cut down too many Kaur trees and cast Glacium and Osolis into darkness for three revolutions.

I stand next to my brother and watch with interest as triangle shelters are erected around us. They are a rudimentary form of the shelters seen in the Ire.

“What are they doing?” Olandon asks.

“Putting up tents,” calls Sanjay from where he hammers a bit of wood into the ground.

“Tents,” Olandon says with interest. I narrow my eyes, waiting for Sanjay’s story. I haven’t forgotten his lie about the piggies.

“You sleep in them,” he says simply. He demonstrates this to my brother, crawling into the erected structure. I see several men doing the same. He’s telling the truth; I relax.

“Huh,” grunts Olandon. He moves forward to get a closer look.

“You’ve just got to make sure you peg them down right,” Sanjay continues, looking around with anxious, jerky movements. “The mist around here has a strong, sage-like smell to it. It sends you into a deep sleep if it gets into your tent. If you inhale too much, it can kill you.”

“Why would Jovan come through here?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Sanjay gives me a grave look over his shoulder. “He’ll have his reasons, Tatuma. In the meantime let’s hope there’s no fog tonight.”

“That’s worrisome to the extreme,” Olandon says quietly as Sanjay moves away.

I nod, arms folded. The sage mist must act in a similar way to smoke. My attention is distracted by Ice, who appears to be having a fit.

“Are you all right?” I ask. He wipes at his eyes furiously. More tears appear as quickly as he can wipe them.

“Don’t tolerate sage well,” he chokes.

“Quickly then, we’ll need to put up your tent.” I hurry forward and take a peg to hammer into the ground.

* * *

I stare at the ceiling of my tent, tense for the first sight of mist. Can you even see it? I’ve taken off my veil just in case.

I toss a final time and decide to just get up and check. Deliberating with my veil in hand, I decide to leave it on. I’ll need to hold it up to navigate the ropes and pegs around the campsite. But there are no other women here. It’s too risky to leave it behind. I hold my breath as I exit, using one hand to lift my veil and the other to feel my way.

I decide to walk to the top of a mound to check for fog in the distance.

“Where are you going?” comes Jovan’s voice. I whirl, dropping my veil guiltily.

“I was checking for mist,” I say. “Is that why you’re out here?” I ask.

“What?”

“The sage fog,” I say slowly. Has some of it gotten to the king? Jovan is silent for a long time. I take a peek under the material and stare in confusion as I see he’s shaking with laughter. I leave the veil pushed up over my head.

“You’ve been talking to Sanjay,” he says once he calms himself.

It takes me a few seconds before my jaw drops open in outrage. “This isn’t a sage-fog area?” I ask, mortification filling me. The king chuckles hard as he shuts my mouth.

“No, this is not a sage-fog area. In fact, there is no such thing as sage-fog. It’s a horror story we tell our children.”

“But Ice and Blizzard knew about it too!” I object.

“You were caught in a lie, my—” he pulls back, his hand dropping to his side.

“Bloody Sanjay,” I grumble. “I bet Landon is wide awake too.”

“He’ll live.” He presses a tender kiss to my lips and I move into his embrace, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t do this if someone could see.

“You’re not really going to lock me up, are you?” I nestle into his warmth against the bitter frost.

“I wish I could,” he says in a low voice. “It would take a great weight off my shoulders to know you’re safe. That you haven’t been hurt … or taken,” he says after a pause. He picks up a tendril of my loosened hair and breathes it in. “But you’d damn well escape any place I tried to put you. And I would never do anything to make you feel like you did when your mother confined you,” he says.

Finally, he sees to the core of the matter. I sniff. “I’m not going to thank you for seeing reason.” He bites my bottom lip gently. I jolt and jerk my head back at the slight pain. He follows me forward and kisses the same spot.

“Jovan?” I ask one instant before his mouth is crushing my own. It’s instant this time. The rush of heady pleasure. What is he unlocking inside of me? I press myself against him, trying to stay silent. The kiss is just what I needed. Brutal and desperate; life-affirming.

We part, gasping; my hands remain twisted in his tunic.

He looks down at me with an unfathomable expression. I push my veil up from where it’s dropping across one eye.