“There will be no trial,” said Queen Leyti. “Makhi will claim she’s ill and will gratefully serve the crown alongside her sister.”
Mayu threw her hands up. What had been done to her brother, to the Grisha, to her, to Isaak, did none of it mean anything? “You know she won’t settle for that. Makhi can’t be trusted.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Queen Leyti. “That is why I have arranged for insurance.” She gestured to her guards and Minister Yerwei entered, the man who had served as doctor to three Taban queens.
“Him?” Mayu said in disbelief. “Yerwei is her closest confidant.”
But Makhi didn’t look triumphant. For the first time her serene expression faltered and her face paled. Queen Leyti watched her granddaughter with sad eyes. “I hoped there was no truth in it,” she said. “But I see now that Minister Yerwei did not lie. Ehri was meant to be your mother’s heir.”
“That … that can’t be,” said Ehri.
Makhi’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “She said I had been born with all the Taban guile but none of the Taban heart.”
“I fear she was right,” said Queen Leyti. “Minister Yerwei, you have prepared a confession, have you not?”
“I have, Your Majesty. Four copies, as you commanded.”
“Makhi, you will sign these confessions too. Then they will be sealed. One will remain with me, one with Ehri, one with Ministers Nagh and Zihun—who have no idea of the contents. One will go to Ravka with Tamar Kir-Bataar. You will abide by the terms I have set before you and the treaty you yourself signed, or your crimes against the crown will be revealed and you will be tried as a traitor to the Taban line.”
“I will never bow to another Taban queen,” Makhi spat.
“That is your choice. In which case, you may absent yourself from court and spend your days in a palace of your choosing, guarded by the Tavgharad of my choosing. If you’re in need of a hobby, I recommend gardening.”
“Your Majesty,” said Tamar, stepping forward. “I would ask—”
“I know what you will ask, Tamar Kir-Bataar. I cannot send troops to aid your king.”
“Queen Makhi signed a treaty. An attack against Ravka is an attack against the Shu.”
“We will send the Ravkan king our most sincere apologies and a confirmation of our friendship, but we cannot send our soldiers to die in a foreign war.”
“Grandmother,” said Ehri, “it was Nikolai Lantsov who saved my life.”
“We owe him a debt,” Mayu agreed. She had no love for the Ravkan king, but she and her brother owed him their lives. He could have put her to death for the crimes she’d committed. He could have married Ehri to forge an alliance and forsaken the Grisha and the khergud soldiers trapped in secret laboratories. “We can’t abandon his country.”
Leyti held up a hand. “We fulfill this debt by honoring our treaty and agreeing to support the rights of all Grisha. We cannot do that if we are seen as Ravkan puppets.”
Tamar was watching Leyti, and Makhi, and Minister Yerwei. “You’ve made some kind of agreement with Fjerda, haven’t you? They want you to stay neutral.”
“Fjerda has let us know that, should they occupy Ravka, they will honor our shared border.”
Slowly, Tamar shook her head. “You had best hope they’re more trustworthy than you and your granddaughter.”
“We cannot send the Lantsov king aid. The ministers will balk and they’re right to. It’s not our war.”
“It will be when there’s no Ravka to stand between you and the Fjerdans.”
Queen Leyti Kir-Taban, Daughter of Heaven, was not moved. “If the wolves come howling, we will face them then. For now, the fox will meet them on his own.”
33
THE MONK
ALEKSANDER SURVEYED HIS ARMY of the faithful, his acolytes, the people with whom he would build a new age. For the first time in several hundred years, he wished for whiskey.
“They are ready,” said Brother Chernov, brimming with pride, his gray-flecked beard nearly bristling with excitement.
Ready to die, I suppose, Aleksander thought, but let none of his frustration show.
He clapped Chernov on the back. “Onward to revelation.”
The big man trailed him as they walked the camp together. Aleksander had no way of knowing where the Fjerdans would attack, so he’d brought his followers—and they were his now—to the area north of Adena to await word of battle. But they’d insisted on journeying west into the Fold to spend their nights in communion with the Starless One. I’m right here, he’d wanted to shout. He had no choice but to oblige them in a pilgrimage to the holy sands.
He didn’t care for it. It was, in part, a question of practicality. There was no shelter on the Fold, no plants to forage, no game to hunt. All they had to eat was the hardtack and dried meat they’d brought with them, a few barrels of flat beer, and the water in their canteens. They slept on hard ground with no trees or rocks to take the brunt of the winter wind. And yet, his companions were jubilant. They held services every sundown, and during the days, they alternated praying and training. They were going into a battle, after all, and though Aleksander did not intend for them to do much fighting, they needed to look like they knew what they were doing.
“Where did you come by such military knowledge, Yuri?” Brother Azarov asked as Aleksander put the pilgrims through another round of sprints. He’d been a soldier himself before he’d deserted to join the ranks of the Starless.
“During my time with the Priestguard,” he lied.
Yuri had never so much as held a gun. He’d been happiest confined to the library.
“We need more weapons,” he said.
Chernov’s furry brows rose. “Why? When the Starless One—”
“We don’t dictate the arrival of the Starless Saint. We have to be ready to defend ourselves.”
Are they all so eager to die? he wondered.
They believe, came Yuri’s reply. They believe in you.
All for the best, but war was war.
“There’s a cache of weapons at the old fort east of Ryevost,” Brother Azarov said. “I was stationed there for a time.”
“You think they’ll still be there?” Aleksander asked.
“If the Starless One watches over us, they will be.”
Aleksander had to fight not to roll his eyes. If he remembered correctly, the old fort had been all but decommissioned and used as an ammunitions stockpile.
“We’ll go there tonight,” he said.
“After services.”
“Of course.”
After nightfall, they hitched a wagon to two of their horses and traveled to the old fort. Getting past the guards was easy enough. The only challenge had been summoning shadow to cloak their movements without revealing his power to Brother Azarov.
But their luck had quickly turned.
“This is it?” Aleksander asked, looking at the crates of decrepit weapons. He picked up one of the old, single-shot rifles. “We might as well try to slap them to death.”
“The Starless One will protect us.”
Aleksander studied Brother Azarov in the dark room. “You’re a soldier—”