Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“What do you mean?” Lipit asked.

Harkon said, “Being keenig is the greatest honor a man could have. It comes with absolute power. Your word will be law in all the clans.”

“Don’t want that,” Raithe said.

“I thought you desired to build something,” Persephone said. “Here’s your chance to build a nation.”

“Wars don’t build anything.”

“You know you’re the only one for this task,” she said. “You are the God Killer, and that doesn’t just mean that you killed a Fhrey. You killed the very idea that they are gods. You’ve already won that first great battle all by yourself. Just by existing, you give the rest of us hope. Hope that we can survive, that we really can win this war. Who else can claim that?”

“That’s why I won’t do it.” Raithe ran a hand over his face. His sight focused on the dirty patch at the center of the ring. “I refuse to give false hope. I won’t be the one everyone blames when we fail.”

“Fail?” Tegan stared. “Are you saying you don’t think we can win?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He looked squarely at him. “At Dahl Rhen, if it hadn’t been giants, if it had been Fhrey, Nyphron and his Galantians wouldn’t have stopped them. They don’t fight their own kind.”

“But Nyphron can teach us to—” Persephone began.

“Teach us what?” Raithe pulled the broken copper and held it up. “This was my father’s sword. A metal weapon, envied by every Dureyan warrior. Yet when I fought Shegon, he cut through it as if I held a dead twig. Yes, I killed Shegon. I killed a Fhrey, but I did so while he lay unconscious, knocked out by Malcolm, who’d hit him from behind with a rock.” He paused to let this sink in. “You’re right. I’m the only one to kill a god, and I only managed it while he was lying unconscious on the ground.”

“And Gryndal?” she challenged. “He was a Miralyith, master of the Art. And you killed him as well. He wasn’t unconscious.”

“And do you think I could have defeated him if I didn’t have Shegon’s sword? Or Arion’s help? When the Fhrey didn’t consider us a threat, we could get close, but that advantage is gone. They will be on their guard and won’t underestimate us now.”

Persephone’s eyes shifted while she thought. “You also battled Nyphron at Dahl Rhen’s gate. You fought him sword-to-sword and won. So I think you are understating your abilities.”

He nodded his agreement. “Yes, we did fight, sword-to-sword. I used Shegon’s and would have died without it. What weapons will the men in our army wield? Will stone spears prevail against the Fhrey’s bronze swords?” Raithe got up. He drew Shegon’s blade and advanced toward Lipit. Two of the soldiers stepped forward to intercept. Raithe sliced the heads off both spears.

The men fell back. Others rushed forward, but Raithe turned and strode to the middle of the courtyard, to the thick wooden post that held up the courtyard’s central brazier. He swung down, cleaving into the grain so that the blade wedged deep. He left the sword and turned back to the circle of chairs.

“You’ll face better swords than this when they come,” he said. “Maybe Nyphron can teach men to fight, but what good is training when we have sticks and stones and they have this? So, yes, we’ve seen Fhrey die, but only two. That proves they aren’t gods, but they might as well be. We’ve already lost this war. Don’t you see that? This war isn’t winnable. That’s why I can’t be your keenig. You would need someone crazier than yourselves, and I am not that much of a fool.”

Raithe walked out of the courtyard, leaving all of them to stare at the sword he’d left behind.

—

Persephone looked for Raithe after the meeting, but he wasn’t under the wool, and she couldn’t find him around the wall. She went down to the village, thinking he might have gone there, but no such luck. She needed to speak to him, had to change his mind, though she didn’t know how. Everything he said was true. They might have overwhelming numbers, but for how long? If their weapons snapped as easily as the spears held by Lipit’s men, they would need a miracle to prevail.

She stopped looking as night fell, realizing she was glad she hadn’t found him. What would I say? What could I say?

The next day brought rain again, so the fourth chieftain meeting was postponed. When the council reconvened the following morning, they moved inside the lodge due to continued showers. Raithe wasn’t there. At first Persephone was fearful he might have left, but Malcolm explained that he was still in Tirre and training a young boy to fight.

Because of the lodge’s tight quarters, few others besides the chieftains were present. Alward was alone, and so was Harkon. Tegan only had his Shield, whose name Persephone thought was Oz. No one joined Persephone except Brin.

“Awful way to treat such a fine sword,” Alward said as he stood at the door looking out at the rain. A wet breeze fluttered his linen shirt, revealing him to be thinner than Persephone had originally thought. Chieftains always ate well, but Alward had only recently become one. “Why has no one pulled it out?”

“Go ahead,” Tegan told him. “No one is stopping you.”

Alward returned to his chair and faced the others. “So what do we do?”

“Nyphron makes a good case,” Tegan said. “We have to fight.”

“Raithe also makes sense,” Krugen responded. “We’ve already lost.”

“Perhaps we could go back,” Alward said.

“Back?”

“Across the sea. Can’t we just get in boats and head off across the water and escape all this? Isn’t that where we came from? Can’t we just go home?” Alward looked at Brin. “You’re Rhen’s Keeper, right? What do the ways say about that?”

Everyone looked at the girl, who appeared shocked that she was expected to speak.

“Well?”

Brin looked at Persephone.

“Tell him,” she said. “Tell him what you know. This is why we have Keepers.”

“We did come across a sea,” Brin said. “No one really knows which. It might have been this one or another. But it wouldn’t matter. There’s no place to go back to. The old world sank. That’s why we had to leave. That’s why we sailed here. If you sail out there, you could fall off the world.”

“What about Caric?” Alward asked. “The Dherg city isn’t too far away, is it?”

Lipit shook his head. “We trade with the Dherg in Tirre, but they wouldn’t welcome us. They are not a trusting lot, and would assume we were invading. One war is more than enough.”

Alward’s face drooped. He folded his arms and slumped in his seat.

“It all just seems so hopeless,” Krugen said. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. “Maybe instead of deciding which man to make keenig, we should first decide which god to pray to. And I will be the first to say, it shouldn’t be Mehan. He’s not been kind to us as of late. He’s turned a deaf ear to his people, and this”—he swept his arm toward the doorway—“only confirms he’s abandoned us.”