CHAPTER 30
THE PRINCESS’ GUARD
334 AR WINTER
Rojer looked out from the tiny window of his cell, the tower affording him an all-too-clear view of the Krasian forces massing at the South Gate.
After months in this cursed cell, this was supposed to have been his release day. Instead, the whole city was on alert, and he’d been forgotten.
“Knew it was too good to be true,” he muttered. “Gonna die in this cell.”
“Nonsense,” Sikvah said from the shadows above. “I will protect you, husband. If the walls are breached, we will be long gone before they reach the cathedral.”
Rojer did not look at her. He seldom even tried now. Sikvah was seen when she wished it, and no other time. His eyes stared in mounting horror as column after column of warriors assembled, wheeling great rock slingers into position.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” Rojer asked.
“No, husband,” Sikvah said. “By Everam and my hope of Heaven, I did not. I was privy to many of the secrets of the Deliverer’s Palace before we were wed, but never did I hear of any plans to expand beyond the borders of Everam’s Bounty in the near future. Everam’s Bounty was a land of vast riches, and people to bring to Everam’s will. Wisdom dictated we stay there half a decade, at least.”
“And then resume conquest.” Rojer spat from the tower window.
“This is not news, husband,” Sikvah said. “My blessed uncle never hid his path from you. Sharak Sun must unite all peoples, for Sharak Ka to be won.”
“Demonshit,” Rojer said. “Why? Because some book says so?”
“The Evejah …” Sikvah began.
“Is a ripping book!” Rojer snapped. “I don’t know if there’s a Creator or not, but I know He didn’t come down from Heaven and write any books. Books are written by men, and men are weak, stupid, and corrupt.”
Sikvah did not respond immediately. He was challenging everything she believed, and he could sense her tension, her desire to argue, warring with her sacred vow to be a submissive wife.
“Regardless,” Sikvah said after a moment. “This must be Jayan’s doing. My cousin has the strongest blood claim to the Skull Throne, but no real glories to his name. No doubt he strives to prove himself to our people so they will accept him in my blessed uncle’s absence.”
“Your blessed uncle fell off a cliff months ago and hasn’t been heard from since,” Rojer said. “Do you still think he’s coming back?”
“There was no body,” Sikvah said, “and signs he was alive when they landed. I will not believe the Deliverer is dead. He will return when he is needed most. But what will his sons and Damaji wreak in his absence? Will our armies be stronger when Sharak Ka comes, or will my fool cousins spread them so thin they shatter?”
She dropped down silently beside him, looking out the window, careful even at this height not to be seen from without. “Everam’s blood. There are nearly fifteen thousand Sharum out there.”
“The fort’s home to sixty thousand, give or take,” Rojer said. “But I doubt there’s two thousand Wooden Soldiers left after Thamos went south.”
“Do you think it’s true, what they say?” Sikvah asked. “That he attacked my cousin’s forces on Waning? At night?”
Rojer shrugged. “My people don’t see the night, and Waning, like yours do, Sikvah. Twice now, Jasin tried to kill me in the night. And the duke and his brothers, when they turned on Thamos on the hunt.”
“Yes, but these were not men,” Sikvah said. “Goldentone, Rhinebeck, these were soulless khaffit. I saw Count Thamos fight. A fool, perhaps, but he had a Sharum’s heart, and the alagai quailed before him. I cannot imagine him acting so dishonorably.”
Rojer shrugged again. “Wasn’t there. Neither were you. But what does it matter, now that his head was sent to his mother in a jar?”
“No mother should witness such a thing,” Sikvah agreed. “My cousin has little high ground on which to stand.”
Columns of smoke rose to the east, where the Krasians had sacked the local hamlets. There were dozens of them within a day of the city walls.
“If they’ve come so far north,” Rojer asked, a lump forming in his throat, “does that mean the Hollow has fallen?”
Sikvah shook her head. “The Hollow is strong, and blessed by Everam. This many warriors might have conquered it, but it would have taken weeks, perhaps months. These men are fresh, with no wounded or damaged equipment.”
She looked to the east where the smoke rose. “They went east around the great wood, likely skirting the Hollow entirely.”
“There’s that, at least,” Rojer said. “Maybe Gared’s already on his way here with ten thousand Cutters.”
Please, Gar, he begged silently. I’m too young to die.
Duke Pether shifted nervously, lines of sweat streaking the powder on his face. No doubt the Shepherd was unaccustomed to standing before the altar instead of presiding over it. A third son given to the church, Pether had likely never expected to wear the wooden crown, much less get married with an invading army at the gates.
Princess Lorain, in contrast, stood straight and resolute, eyes on the Tender as he hurried through the vows that would seal their alliance and allow her to commit her soldiers to the fight. Not that her five hundred Mountain Spears were likely to make much difference against twenty thousand Sharum. Messengers had been dispatched the moment the enemy forces were spotted, but there was no way of knowing if they had gotten through.
It was morning, though dawn was still an hour away. The ceremony was blessedly quick, just oaths and an awkward kiss. Leesha didn’t envy either of them the wedding night, but the needs of their people outweighed their personal comfort. It seemed such a simple thing, creating a child, but Leesha knew as well as any how it could impact the world.
“Man and wife!” the Tender called, and the new duchess nodded to Bruz, the captain of her guard. The man sent a runner to muster the Mountain Spears, then fell in behind her as she and Pether stepped down from the altar. The attendees gave a ragged cheer, but most of the pews were empty, people manning the walls or barricading themselves in homes and shelters.
Araine was the first to bow to the new couple, but the others quickly followed. Leesha bent as far as she could manage in her current state. Even Amanvah bowed, a telling move. She was desperate to see Rojer freed.
“Enough,” Pether snapped, drawing everyone erect once more. “There will be plenty of time for bowing and scraping tomorrow, if we live to see it.” His shrill tone made clear his expectation on the matter.
Lorain’s face was stone as she looked at her new husband, but her aura was a mix of irritation and disgust. “Perhaps, husband, this is something best discussed in private?”
“Of course, of course,” Pether said, waving the royal entourage into the vestry beside the altar and down the hall to his private offices. Rhinebeck’s palace was his, now, but there had been no time to move, and the Shepherd was reluctant to leave the lavish office he had spent a decade arranging.
There in his place of power, surrounded by the symbols of his faith and reminders of his own greatness, the duke seemed to regain something of himself, straightening his back. “Janson, what is the status of our defenses?”
“Little different than it was twenty minutes ago, Your Grace,” Janson said. “The enemy is massing, but if nothing else, we learned this week they will not attack until dawn. We have archers on the wall, and men to repel attempts to scale, but the real danger is the South Gate. There are companies of men guarding the other gates, but the enemy has positioned their engines to strike there.”
“Will it hold?” Pether asked.
Janson shrugged. “Unclear, Your Grace. The enemy did not haul boulders all this way, and they are unlikely to quickly find stone of sufficient size to break the gate. It should withstand most bombardment.”
“Most?” Pether asked.
Janson shrugged again. “It has never been tested, Your Grace. If it falls, the courtyard will be the last hope of stopping the charge before the enemy can spread out into the city.”
“If it fails, we’re lost,” Pether said. “After the losses at Docktown, we don’t have enough Wooden Soldiers to man the wall and hold that yard if twenty thousand Krasians come pouring in. Men are streaming in from the levies, but we don’t even have weapons for them. They’re not going to hold back trained cavalry with carpentry tools.”
“Nothing is lost,” Lorain said, her voice hard. “Captain Bruz will take the Mountain Spears to the courtyard. There are only three avenues for enemy coming through the gate to take. Each a choke point we can hold with limited men.”
Pether turned to Leesha. “And the Hollow, mistress? Do you think we can expect help from the south?”
Leesha shook her head. “I gave Briar hora to speed his journey to the Hollow with news of Gorja’s attack, but even if Gared got right on his horse, it will be days yet before he can arrive with any sizable force.”
She shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible the Hollowers caught sign of the Krasians on the march and mustered sooner, but I wouldn’t place any wagers on it.”
“And your Warded Man?” Pether asked. “If ever he were the Deliverer, now would be the time to prove it.”
Lorain snorted, and again Leesha shook her head. “You’ve better odds with the Hollow, Your Grace. If the Warded Man is still alive, he’s off chasing demons and left politics behind.”
“What about you, mistress?” Pether asked. “You threw lighting at Gorja and his warriors.”
“And nearly miscarried as a result,” Leesha said. “I won’t be doing that again save as a last resort with a spear pointed at my belly. There is little I can do in open daylight in any event. I may be able to strengthen the gate, however.”
Everyone looked up at this. “How?” Pether asked.
“With wards, and hora,” Leesha said, “if we can shroud the gate in darkness.”
Pether looked to Janson. The minister’s eyes flicked to Araine, who appeared to do nothing more than shift her feet slightly.
Janson nodded immediately. “We can have every tailor in the city stitching bolts of cloth, Your Grace.”
“See to it.” Pether looked around. “Any other ideas? Anyone with a mad plan brewing, now’s the time to speak it.”
Silence hung in the air like a weight, and Leesha took a deep breath. “There is one thing …”
“Let me speak to him,” Amanvah said.
Pether shook his head. “Madness.”