No one spoke. No one moved, and Zarrah’s heart sank. Most of these soldiers didn’t know her, and if they did, they knew her from before. Knew her when she was vengeance incarnate, their enemy’s weapon. How could she blame them for not taking the risk of following her?
It was a dream that verged on madness that such a thing were possible, but it had been such dreams Then Daria edged her horse forward, shouting, “I joined this alliance back on Devil’s Island. I stand by it now, just as I stand by the rightful Empress of Valcotta!”
“As do I,” Saam declared. “The King of Maridrina has got the biggest balls of any man I’ve met, and I’ll gladly fight alongside him.”
Daria’s tribe members pressed forward, and Zarrah’s throat tightened. They’d proven themselves in Arakis against Welran, shown their bravery and loyalty. Earned a tenuous place back with the rebels, yet they were risking it for Keris. Because he hadn’t just proved himself to her; he’d proven himself to them.
She held her breath as they joined her, afraid it would cost them. But then the soldiers she didn’t know moved to join them, men and women who were strangers to her and yet somehow had faith that she’d lead them to a better future. Arakis had risen for the rebellion, and now the rebellion would rise for Valcotta itself.
couldn’t let it. Couldn’t faint off the side of her horse and expect these soldiers to then follow her into Soon everyone present stood behind her and Keris, leaving only the commander of the rebellion, her father, standing in opposition. Zarrah held her breath, because for all these soldiers had declared for her cause, she knew that if he turned his back on her, as he had so many times before, the support would evaporate.
Slowly, her father stepped forward and inclined his head. “I will join this alliance.”
Keris’s hand clutched tightly in hers, Zarrah looked out over her army. “Let the Usurper enjoy her crown while she has it, for we are coming to rip it from her head.”
we suffer is at their hands and that we must redeem our honor in vengeance. There is no greater proof No one spoke. No one moved, and Zarrah’s heart sank. Most of these soldiers didn’t know her, and she’d lead them to a better future. Arakis had risen for the rebellion, and now the rebellion would rise
Soon everyone present stood behind her and Keris, leaving only the commander of the rebellion, her father, standing in opposition. Zarrah held her breath, because for all these soldiers had declared for her cause, she knew that if he turned his back on her, as he had so many times before, the support would evaporate.
Slowly, her father stepped forward and inclined his head. “I will join this alliance.”
Keris’s hand clutched tightly in hers, Zarrah looked out over her army. “Let the Usurper enjoy her crown while she has it, for we are coming to rip it from her head.”
“ISTAND CORRECTED on my prior comments about your skills as an orator,” Keris said. “That
was magnificent.”
Zarrah gave him a wry look over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the trail they rode upon, guiding the horse they shared through the narrow ravine. The incline sharpened, and he tightened his grip on her waist, the muscles of her abdomen taut beneath his fingers. So, too, were the muscles in his arms as he fought to keep an appropriate distance between them without falling off the back of the trotting horse.
His words were no lie. Listening to her speak, especially about how their time together had changed her, hadn’t just moved the rebels, for Keris had nearly come undone, his emotions still riding high. For a long time, he’d questioned whether he remembered events in Nerastis accurately, or whether he had altered reality to fantasy, a rose-tinted view of the past. Her speech had validated his memories, which should’ve been a relief.
Instead he felt sick with anxiety that Zarrah’s faith in him was misled.
Arjun wasn’t wrong that Keris had made promises that he might not be able to deliver upon. Zarrah depended on his ability to bring his army across the border to pin Petra between two forces and secure either her defeat or surrender. Even after the losses Maridrina had taken in Ithicana, he had the numbers and resources to challenge Petra. That wasn’t the question.
It was whether he could convince his people to do it.
Valcotta had been his kingdom’s enemy for generations, and while Keris knew that many were weary of the war, that didn’t mean they’d be willing to fight to liberate their enemy from a tyrant.
His father would have made them do it. Would have put the fear of refusal so deep in their guts that they’d have liberated the devil himself rather than risk disappointing their king, but they didn’t fear Keris that way.
And he didn’t want them to.
Using fear to force them to fight a war they didn’t want would make him the same as his father.
Worse, it would make him the same as Petra. Removing one tyrant only to replace her with himself, and around and around the world circled in the same cycle of horror.
They had to break that cycle, but Keris had no idea how. No idea what he would say, only that the moment was rapidly approaching that he’d have to make his own speeches to his people.
Which, ultimately, meant that he was going to have to return to Maridrina. And leave Zarrah behind.
Keris closed his eyes, listening to the throb of his heart. This was always the way. Walking toward inevitable moments of separation made necessary by duty, circumstance, honor. Every force but their own wills desired them apart, and he’d have given up hope that it would ever be otherwise if not for that hope being what kept his heart beating. What kept him pushing and persevering and fighting for the very things that would again drive them apart. The most vicious of circles, and one from which Keris saw no escape.
“We’re here,” Zarrah murmured, and Keris opened his eyes, taking in the cliff walls full of cave openings. Ladders and scaffolding lined the cliffs, the armed Valcottans on them watching the party’s approach.
“So this is where they’ve been hiding.” Sliding off the back of the horse, Keris reached up to help Zarrah down, caring little when his stupid shoulder screamed in protest. Everyone was watching them, and though life had made him used to scrutiny, Keris still had to fight the urge to move to the shadows.
“The True Empress has joined us,” Arjun shouted to the watching crowd. “And with her, she has brought the most mighty of allies, who has agreed to lend us his strength to tear the Usurper from Zarrah gave him a wry look over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the trail Valcotta’s throne.”
Keris nearly raised an eyebrow, for Arjun had quite recently referred to him as the weakest king Maridrina had ever known, but then the man grabbed Keris’s arm, lifting it into the air. “His Royal Majesty, King Keris Veliant of Maridrina.”
Keris braced himself for the ire his name usually brought, but the rebels lifted their hands and shouted, “Arakis has risen!”
changed her, hadn’t just moved the rebels, for Keris had nearly come undone, his emotions still riding
“This is a moment for celebration,” Arjun roared, “for tomorrow, we make plans to march to war!”
The rebel commander led Keris and Zarrah to a ladder that reached up to the scaffolding. “Can you climb?” he asked Keris. “I know you took an arrow to the shoulder.”