As I fly toward it, I see streams of soldiers marching in, this bird’s eye view making them look like a flowing river of black leather. Their progression is rife with curves and turns as thousands of men and women tread across the landscape, passing over the largest bridges and cutting past the castle, their sights set on the looming mountain.
This is the last of them to arrive, so Osrik and Ryatt will be here too. It’s taken three days for them to all filter in, and when the final troops pour past the entrance of the wall, the base is going to be crammed full. Normally, when I’ve called most of my army here, they’re only at the base for a short period of time. But with the situation as it is now, I cannot quickly discharge them to return to their homes.
That fact won’t be well received.
They’ve been gone for months, and they’ve been traveling hard. However, their arrival will be stained like the spill of bitter juice when they find out that war is looming and they can’t return home yet.
With the river of the army flowing in, I direct Argo to drop lower when we make it to the base’s wall. Shouts rise up from below, cheers from the soldiers who recognize Argo from the sky.
I don’t deserve their cheering.
Argo’s wings slice through the air, tucking between the limbs of the trees as he gets even lower. With a tug on his reins, he shifts to the right, heading for the building pitched with beams on all four sides, its roof a pinnacle of pine tar, the dark grain of the wood walls blending in with the trees around it.
As Argo begins to circle in his telltale sign of landing, the soldiers below move out of the way, just as the beast touches down, his talons sinking into the grass.
All around me, soldiers bow their heads as I unbuckle from the saddle and jump down. After giving Argo a pat on his hindquarters to let him know he can go off to hunt, I turn around, nodding at the crowd before I head for the building.
My boots tramp up the three sparse steps leading to the door, and as soon as I get inside, four heads swivel in my direction. Judd and Lu are sitting at the left of the table, Ryatt and Osrik at the right. Osrik’s long beard is even more unruly than usual, the hair on his head in much the same condition.
“You look like shit, Os,” I say in greeting.
He grunts, thick arms crossing in front of him. “Sorry I didn’t primp. Been busy dragging your army across the continent through the freezing ass snow.”
I smirk as I take a seat next to him. “I appreciate it. Did you have any trouble?”
“Aside from the expected grumbles every now and then, and a few fights breaking out? No.”
“Good.” My eyes shift to Ryatt. His helmet is on the tabletop, though other than that, he’s still in full armor. “And you and Hojat got back fine?”
“Of course. Good thing too, because the frostbite running through the camps wasn’t pretty. We’ve lost too many fingers and toes,” he says, his tone dripping with displeasure.
“Hojat was worried about that.”
Ryatt levels me with a look. “What’s going on, Slade?” he asks. “Why haven’t we started dismissing everyone who isn’t in the standing army? Why are you keeping everyone here?”
I look between him and Osrik, and then I catch them both up on everything that’s happened, including the dinner we had with Manu three nights ago. Os spools out a string of curses several times during my explanation, but Ryatt grows quiet. I know my brother. The quieter he becomes, the more furious he is.
“Well, fuck,” Os says when I finish. He rubs the back of his head. “This isn’t good.”
“Understatement of the year,” Judd mumbles as he picks at the dry edge of the wood table.
“We knew they’d do something to try and force my hand, but I didn’t expect this. Queen Kaila and the others are going hard.”
Judd yanks a splinter off the edge, using it to pick at the grains on the tabletop. “What I don’t get is why they’re risking pissing off King Rot.”
“Someone has to take the fall for two dead monarchs in one night,” Lu replies. “They’re choosing Auren as their target.”
“They’re scared of her,” Osrik says. “These fucking rumors. No wonder the other rulers have their knickers in a shit twist. They’re worried she’s gonna steal more magic.”
“The rumors and propaganda have spread more than I realized,” I admit. “The public’s opinion is focused on bringing Auren to trial. All while Kaila is quietly trying to sink her claws into Sixth.”
Osrik’s eyes sharpen. “What?”
I nod. “Last report I had was that she took a trip to Highbell. Made some announcement about how she and Midas were betrothed right before he got killed. Had a bullshit ceremony to fucking honor Midas’s life. She’s trying to dredge up support there.”
Judd shakes his head. “Trying to take over more territory with the public’s fucking blessing.”
“They like her,” Lu cuts in. “She’s perfected her public charm.”
“All while they try to starve us out,” Os says. “A fucking month of reserves, and we’ll be completely wiped out.”
I look between all of them, even Ryatt, whose eyes are stuck on the table. “I need to pull volunteers from the army. I need massive efforts thrown into bringing in our own food.”
“We all know Fourth is made up of mostly swamps and marshes. Not exactly the best farmlands, that’s why we’ve always relied on the other kingdoms. And can crops even be harvested that quickly?” Judd asks.
“Some,” Osrik pipes in. “Radishes, spring onions, spinach, turnips—those we can harvest in about a month.”
Everyone stares at him.
He shrugs his shoulders when he notices. “What? You shits know I was from First Kingdom.”
“Yeah, as a mercenary,” Judd replies, his brows lifted up. “How the hell do you know about farming?”
Osrik shifts in his chair, the bulk of his body making the wood creak in protest. “Hired to kill a farmer who didn’t pay his taxes once. Ended up staying there to help him so he could pay instead of murdering the poor fuck.”
Lu grins at him. “Aww, Os. You’re such a soft-heart.”
“Fuck off,” he grumbles. “My heart’s rock-hard.”
Judd’s eyes practically light up. “No, that’s not your heart, that’s your—”
“Let’s not,” I cut in.
Judd just laughs.
“Alright, so we send soldiers to fucking plant seeds and shit, but we’ll need some actual farmhands who know what they’re doing to supervise, and we need a place to do it,” Os says.
“Yes. I’ll talk to Barley,” I reply. “She knows Fourth’s land like the back of her hand. If there’s any other viable land we’re not tapping into already, she’ll find it. And I’ve already had her and Warken put together a plan to increase our fishing and hunting.”
“But will it be enough?” Lu asks.
I meet her worried eyes, because the same worry is in mine. This is what my Premiers and I have been working on night and day. “I don’t know. Isalee is running the numbers. But for now, we’ve come up with a plan to make a backdoor deal with First Kingdom. They want more lantern oil, so we’ll give it to them in exchange for supplies.”
“Will the king go for that?”
“We will need to charm him enough so he can’t help but take the deal.” My attention moves pointedly onto Judd.
He ruffles a hand over his hair. “Ah, shit. You need me to go to First Kingdom and schmooze King Thold, don’t you?”
“My Premiers are too busy to leave, and out of all of us, you’re the most charming.”
“That’s not saying much. But fine, I’ll go try to schmooze him to give up some food in exchange for oil and gems.”
“Thank you.”
“But what if he refuses?” Judd asks.
I scrub a hand down my face. I really fucking hate being a king sometimes. “Then we’ll try to find another way to ensure people don’t starve.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Ryatt lift his head. There’s a slow roll of his shoulders as his neck straightens, his eyes meeting mine before he finally breaks his silence. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The only reason I don’t rear back in surprise is because I’ve been bracing myself for his reaction since I walked in.
When I say nothing, he looks around at the others, head shaking. “Are all of you honestly just going to sit here and not even say it?”