The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

It was much later before I had it figured out, why the battle had felt easy. Mott was asleep by then, as were most of the men. Roden still hadn’t returned, but there was another fire not far from ours where I suspected he had gone. Whether he was still angry or not, I would make him listen to me.

Mott and I had come here because of what Fish Breath had said, that the king of Avenia meant to break through these lines. I had noticed a few Avenians in the battle, but not many, and certainly not an army. Beyond that, King Vargan wasn’t here, nor any sign of his banner.

Perhaps Fish Breath had lied to me, or perhaps the plans had changed since he heard them. Either way, it didn’t matter. We’d fought Mendenwal here, but that’s all it was — a fight. Vargan was letting me wear down my numbers while he remained in the background. Avenia was still out there somewhere, spreading destruction in my country like a silent plague. I had to find them. Because until I defeated Vargan, I could never end this war.

I heard Roden’s voice long before I saw him. He wasn’t speaking loudly, but everything else had become so quiet and still. I caught the sound of my name and silently moved toward him. He’d been angry for what he considered my insult to his skills in battle, and I could only imagine what he must have to say about me now.

I saw him in silhouette with his back toward the fire, and planted myself behind the trunk of a tree nearby where I wouldn’t be seen. I vaguely recognized the man he was speaking to. It was the soldier from Bymar who had led us behind the lines, a commander in a fine uniform whom the others addressed as Lord Orison.

“Pardon my observation,” Orison said. “But you are as young as your king. Why did Jaron choose you as his captain?”

“I’m still asking myself that question,” Roden answered. “If you figure it out, please let me know.”

I had already answered him weeks ago, when he and I had fought before the pirates. Anyone fierce enough to threaten Carthya is strong enough to defend it, I’d told him. And I had meant it. When it came to a battle, Roden did not blink.

“I only wonder because we all know how focused King Vargan is on recapturing your king. He has made those intentions very clear, and yet we both know what would happen to Jaron if Vargan gets hold of him again.”

Roden nodded in agreement, but for my part, I didn’t like the way the conversation was going.

Orison continued, “If this war became yours to command, could you do it?”

Roden shrugged. “Jaron won’t let himself be captured again, and he knows how to survive on a battlefield.”

“Yes, but if something did happen, could you command the war?”

There was a long silence while Roden thought it over. I pressed in closer, eager to hear what he had to say. Finally, Roden drew in a breath and said, “When Jaron first sent me to Gelyn, I was a boy with a sword, only pretending to be the captain of an army. But after several hard-fought battles, I am not that boy anymore.”

No, he wasn’t the same. But it still wasn’t the answer Orison wanted.

n another hour, more Carthyans arrived from the same direction as Mott and I had come. Certainly, these were the extra soldiers from the Falstan camp, and they were fresh and eager to prove themselves. With their help, and Bymar’s continuing support, a retreat was soon called by Mendenwal, and shouts of victory were raised through my armies. Mendenwal emptied from the field faster than I could have imagined possible, with Bymar and Carthya still in pursuit.

Roden found me shortly after. He was on horseback and looked exhausted, but as far as I could tell, he was uninjured. He had another horse with him, a smaller one, which he offered to me. I pointed out he should give me the larger horse that he was riding, but Roden insisted he was quite comfortable already and if I didn’t want the small horse, he would find someone who did. As we laughed, Mott said he would stay behind and help with the wounded, then meet me again behind the lines.

I climbed onto the horse and Roden said, “You don’t need to stay here tonight. Harlowe told me what you went through in Avenia. You’ll rest better if I take you back to the castle.”

“And miss all the fun?” I asked. “No, I’ve been away from my armies long enough. They will see me here.” We rode farther, and then I asked, “Are they your armies too?”

He weighed that in silence, and just when I thought he had decided never to answer me, he said, “It is always your army, Jaron. But they are my men now.”

“What changed?”

He shrugged. “I did. I realized that I couldn’t expect them to think better of me than I thought of myself. So if I believed I was too young or stupid or inexperienced to be a captain, then that’s all I would ever be.”

“So what do you believe now?”

Refusing that question, he only chuckled instead. “I believe you need a solid meal. I’d think with the way Mott watches over you, that he’d be more concerned for your health, and stuff a meat pie in your mouth every time you open it.”

I laughed along with him. “He’d probably like to try that, just to keep me from talking myself into trouble all the time.”

“That’s not a bad idea, you know. We have no meat pies behind our lines, but there will be good food to celebrate this victory.”

“How are the people in Drylliad? Do they have enough food?”

Roden shrugged. “That’s a constant concern. Far more people came to the city than anyone expected and shortages came with them. Lord Harlowe needed more supplies, but the men couldn’t keep the walls open and defend them too.”

“Then how —”

“You met the women at the river, didn’t you?” When I said I had, he continued, “The women in Drylliad told us that if we could push the battle this far from the city walls, then they would keep the supply lines open. The men may have fought for this city, but it will be the women who save it.”