He was powerfully built, somewhat taller than Keris but far bulkier, his bare forearms and hands marked with old scars, as well as a few fresh ones, likely courtesy of the battle on Devil’s Island.
“I’ve done my research on you, Your Grace,” the commander finally said. “Ninth son of Silas Veliant, birthed by a desert nomad plucked from obscurity for her beauty.”
“Adara,” Keris said coolly even as he wondered the last time he’d spoken his mother’s name. “Say what you will of my father, but I’ll suffer no slander against my mother.”
The commander inclined his head. “None intended. Her daughter became queen of Ithicana, her son the king of Maridrina. I think it a shame her life was cut short, though it is said that her murder was what put you at odds with your father.”
“People say many things.”
“Indeed. I was told you could barely lift a sword without risking your own limbs yet saw
otherwise with my own eyes.” The man continued to circle. “You are known to be highly educated.
Fluent in several languages. A patron of the arts. But also a drinker, a gambler, and a womanizer.”
Keris remained silent, some sixth sense telling him that there was something about this exchange that he was missing.
“I have pages upon pages of information about you, Your Grace. Much as I did your father, for while Maridrina is not my enemy, Silas Veliant most certainly was.”
Keris tilted his head. “For what he did to Aryana?”
The commander stopped his circling, and in his eyes, Keris saw anger. Not the hot flood of fresh rage, but an old fury. The kind that had existed for so long that it had become a permanent fixture, its roots dug so deeply into the heart and soul that it influenced every thought, every action. Who was Aryana to you? Keris silently asked. Who are you to have dedicated your life to her cause?
Who are you to Zarrah that you’d risk everything to rescue her?
“Yes,” the commander finally answered. “Though the list of your father’s crimes is long.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that.” Keris briefly considered revealing Petra’s complicity but decided against it, for that truth was Zarrah’s to tell. That this conversation was happening behind her back was bad enough.
“So imagine my surprise when I arrived on Devil’s Island to liberate my empress and my people, only to discover that Silas’s son, Maridrina’s king, had beaten me to it. Adding to my shock was the discovery that he was in the company of the King of Ithicana, whose kingdom was so recently brutalized in Maridrina’s invasion, as well as its queen, who was the instigator of the violence and who also happens to be your sister.”
Keris shrugged, then dusted snow off his sleeve, his mind racing. He’d been preoccupied with Zarrah, and with survival, which meant that he’d not given nearly enough thought to the motivations of those he’d deemed minor players in the game. He was discovering now that they weren’t minor at all.
“I fail to see why this conversation necessitated dumping me into the snow on the side of the road.”
you are a different man than your father, that does not mean I’m fool enough to bring you into my camp Ignoring the question, the commander said, “Daria provided me with some explanation for your motivations on our journey back to Arakis, informing me of the depths of your relationship with my empress, but she knew nothing about your intentions.”
“To ally with Zarrah, and with you, to unseat Petra from the throne,” Keris said, knowing full well that he hadn’t answered the man’s question any more than the commander had answered his.
“So that’s why your army is massing in Nerastis?”
This was the first piece of intelligence about his country that Keris had received since leaving Vencia, and some level of proof that his orders were being followed. “At present, they are there for defense. Petra has made it abundantly clear that she desires to invade Maridrina. A plan made clearer through my own efforts to spy on Welran. But ultimately, when Zarrah makes her move against Petra, I’ll commit my own forces to aid her.”
“Of course you will. Except answer this, Your Grace: why do none of your soldiers know your plans?”
“Adara,” Keris said coolly even as he wondered the last time he’d spoken his mother’s name. “Say Keris’s hands turned cold.
“We have spies in your palace in Nerastis. Your officers speak freely around paid company, and The commander inclined his head. “None intended. Her daughter became queen of Ithicana, her sonnot one has whispered of your so-called plan for peace. Only about continued plans for war. Why is that?”
There was a reason. A reason that terrified Keris so badly that his mind shied away from even considering it, even though it had the power to destroy his plans with Zarrah. “Screaming my strategies for all to hear is a good way to arm my enemies.”
“Oh, I know that. Believe that. What is uncertain is who you see as your enemy.” The commander resumed his circling. “That is why we stand on the side of the road, away from the presence of the Empress, Your Grace. For while she may be blind to the advantages this alliance holds for you in the long run, I am not.”
Tension sang through his veins, but Keris allowed none of it to show on his face. “Then allow me to provide clarity. My enemy is Petra Anaphora. Not Zarrah, not the rebellion, and not you.”
Silence stretched, the only sound the rapid breathing of the soldiers and the wind howling through the surrounding forest.
“You have all the answers, but I see your intentions, Your Grace. You’d pit the rebellion against the Usurper, spend the strength of both forces, then, while backs are turned, take Nerastis. You don’t tell your generals of plans for peace because Maridrina’s plans are unchanged. The war rages on.”
“On my honor, that is not my intent.” Keris said the words knowing that this man probably
considered him honorless. “I am a true ally to Zarrah. Our goals are shared. And this conversation should not be happening behind her back.”
but decided against it, for that truth was Zarrah’s to tell. That this conversation was happening behind
“Baa! Baa!” The commander mimicked a sheep’s call, his soldiers laughing. “You want her here so you can cower behind her?”
Keris’s fingers curled, his irritation rising. “Do not mistake my respect for her as cowardice.”
The commander shrugged. “Perhaps you tell the truth. Perhaps you do desire to aid my empress, to fight for peace, but in that case, you are making promises that you can’t keep. Already you are the weakest king Maridrina has seen in generations, so what hubris flows through your veins that you believe you can return to Maridrina and order your army to fight to liberate their mortal enemy? They will laugh in your face and then rip you apart before staking your head on Vencia’s gates.”
Zarrah, and with survival, which meant that he’d not given nearly enough thought to the motivations of Keris’s irritation fled, for this was the fear that lurked deep in his heart. The knowledge that when those he’d deemed minor players in the game. He was discovering now that they weren’t minor at all. Zarrah would need him most, he might fail to deliver. Hearing it voiced by this man made that fear a thousand times more intense, for it validated what Keris already knew.
“A weak ally that promises much and delivers nothing is no ally at all,” the commander said.
“You’re a liability that the Empress cannot afford, and as such, one we will be sending back to Maridrina.”
Keris’s lips parted to protest, but before he could speak, Zarrah’s voice cut through the air. “As it stands, Commander, it seems that you are a liability that I cannot afford.”