Candidate (The Black Mage #3)

Lief studied me for a moment in contemplative silence, and then with a sigh went on to explain the squad’s routine. I listened attentively with my eyes combing the road ahead. It was our second day of duty. All around me were the remains of great pines, charred and needleless in the aftermath of the infamous Caltothian attack one year before. A quarter of the northern forest had gone up in flames.

I could still taste the bitter ash. My lungs constricted just remembering the fire, the way I could barely breathe, the way the world had thundered—just for an instant—as Eve gave herself to save the prince and me.

Some of the vegetation had returned, but for this patch the forest was just a field of black, towering trunks. In permanent mourning of those we had lost.

We crossed several small streams before making camp in a clearing fifteen miles later. The setting sun had transformed into a deep magenta.

Every man saw to his own horse, making sure it was brushed down, watered, and fed, but the soldiers saw to most of the camp’s upkeep: pitching tents, preparing the meal, taking inventory, and collecting wood. They also did a rotation for sentry duty.

The rest of our party—the twenty-four knights and five mages—spent each evening discussing strategy with Lief and Sir Gavin. We learned the specifics of the territory patrols; the names of the bordering villages most destined for trouble; and reviewed general tactics.

At the third day’s afternoon break, Sir Gavin addressed the question all the new recruits had been not-so-silently pondering.

“I’ve heard many of you ask your comrades when we should expect to run into the Caltothians. The answer is simple: not now, and not on the road.” He cracked his neck as he spoke. “The enemy is far more likely to raid one of the small villages straddling the border than ambush an armed regiment. Even then, I expect their number to be few and ill-prepared at that.”

“But what about the attack last year in Ferren?” The words spilled from my lips before I could stop them. “The Caltothians didn’t seem ill-prepared then.” Beside me I caught two of the new soldiers and Ray nodding in agreement.

Sir Gavin was silent for a moment while several soldiers exchanged knowing looks. When the lead knight finally answered it was with a bitter truth. “I am in full accord, Ryiah, but what you must realize is by now the Caltothians will have heard the rumors that King Lucius is actively citing Caltoth’s most recent assault as a breach in the Great Compromise.”

My confidence faltered. A break in the treaty was an open declaration of war. Everyone knew the participating rulers would automatically turn against the noncompliant country. It was what had kept peace between Jerar, Caltoth, the Borea Isles, and Pythus for almost a century.

“Previously Emperor Liang and King Joren refused to consider the Crown’s complaints, but a direct assault on Ferren changed everything. The keep is too far south to be considered a territorial dispute.” Sir Gavin paused and his eyes locked on all of the recruits, me included. “Now King Lucius’s claims hold merit. Unless the king of Caltoth thinks himself a fool, he would be wise to hold off future attacks and focus his energies on disputing Jerar’s claims. Any action at this point would not be advisable on our part or the Caltothians.”

A short silence followed. The rest returned to their lunch, but I was too restless to follow. I downed the remains of my skin and then headed to the creek to refill it. I was lost in thought. Sure, I knew war was coming…

But what I hadn’t realized was how much Jerar was depending on the other countries’ blessings. I’d been so wrapped up in my apprenticeship that I had never paid much attention to politics, and what little I had heard had been limited to dowries. Sir Gavin’s words were alarming. It meant that we were at the mercy of Caltoth until the other nations decided in our favor.

And even if Caltoth was smart enough to restrain from attacking Jerar while it was under observation, there was the added fear that King Horrace might somehow sway the other nations’ favor.

Because even with Emperor Liang’s renewed alliance to Jerar, the Borea Isles would not support a breach of the Great Compromise without the backing of Pythus. They were too weak. And from the fit Blayne had thrown during this year’s ascension, it was clear even if the crown prince did obtain the hand of one of Joren’s daughters, the Pythian king was not pro-Jerar.

And King Joren already had a sister married to one of King Horrace’s brothers.

Which meant if we did not find a way to convince the others, we would end up at war with three countries instead of one. Something even a Pythian princess and my Borean dowry couldn’t fix.

Rachel E. Carter's books