The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

The men kicked at the dirt, clearly not convinced, but they lowered their weapons.

ghed. “We can talk. But as you probably noticed already, they’re not my men.” Then he motioned me down the ridge to a quiet cove that didn’t appear to have seen any fighting.

Once we were alone, I sat on one of the smoother rocks and invited him to sit as well. He shifted the weight on his feet, as if he felt more comfortable poised for battle. I understood that, but the fight was over and he and I needed to talk before the next one came.

Finally, he sheathed his sword, and then sat with his hands clasped together. He glanced at me briefly, then hung his head, and scraped at the ground with his boot.

We sat in silence until he finally said, “The night before we took this garrison, I overheard the men talking. They knew it would be hard, and risky, and most of them expected to fail. I almost stepped from the shadows just then, to assure them that I’d fight at their side until the end. But then they said if we failed, it would be my fault, that I had no business being their captain.” When he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with sadness and doubt. “They’re right, Jaron.”

For some reason, a memory from childhood came to my mind of standing before my father as he sat on his throne, staring down at me in full disapproval. Earlier that day, I had taken all the coins from the offerings dish at the church. Stolen them, he said, like a common thief. Looking back now, I knew my actions had embarrassed my father, but all I understood then was his anger. I couldn’t explain that I had given the coins to a young widow in town who’d been threatened with debtors’ prison. Much as I wanted my father to understand my reasons, I worried I might get her in trouble too. In front of the entire court, he had told me I was nothing like a prince should be.

Uneasy with the memory, I stood and reminded myself that this talk was for Roden and not me. With a shrug, I said, “You know my flaws, Roden. I make plans that don’t work, mistrust my closest friends, and do stupid things when the easier option should be obvious. I’m wrong all the time. But I am not wrong about you.”

“I’m a terrible captain!” Roden said. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

“Oh no, I agree with that,” I said. “You are terrible.”

He drew back. “Is that meant to encourage me?”

Once again, my memories transported me back over the years. “After my father sent me away, I sometimes overheard people talking about the missing prince, about me. At first, I had expected to hear sadness, how much they mourned my loss. They were sad, yes, but not in the way I thought. They didn’t miss me, only my mistakes, my pranks, whatever I’d done that gave them a story worth laughing about. These were people who had bowed when I entered a room, but they never loved me and certainly never respected me.”

“I see.” Roden nodded. “You had no business being a prince.”

“Nor a king. Before I went to the pirates, do you know why Gregor was able to so easily manipulate my regents?”

“Because they were ridiculous and stupid.”

“Well . . . yes. But they weren’t evil. All they knew about me was the boy my father had sent away from the castle. If I were still that boy, then they shouldn’t have allowed me to rule. If they didn’t trust me to lead, that was my fault.”

Now Roden stood. “But they follow you now — they bow because they respect you, not just your title. It’s different for me. I am not worthy of my position, and you know it.”

“How dare you doubt me?” My anger was sudden, but justified. “Why do you think I went to the pirates? For the pleasure of their company? For entertainment? It certainly did no favors to my health. I came for you, Roden. I risked my life for you. So don’t you ever again disrespect the risks I took by claiming you weren’t worth it!”

“I’m only a displaced orphan,” he mumbled.

“So am I!” Then my voice softened. “But I’m also a king, and you are my captain. Doubt yourself, if you must, but you will not question me!”

He stepped back, then lowered his head. “I can read a battle and I can swing a sword, and my strategies are good if anyone will listen. But they don’t. I can’t do this job if they won’t give me respect.”

“Nobody gives you respect in this life. You must take it, you must earn it, and then you must hold it sacred, because no matter how hard respect is to attain, it can be lost in an instant.” I nodded my head toward the garrison. “Go get it, Roden. People won’t follow a leader who doesn’t know where he’s going. Show them that you do.”

Roden nodded, and then started walking beside me back down the hill toward the garrison. “I do know where we’re going, and I will get us there. Jaron, with this army, I’m going to hold this border until all of Gelyn surrenders to you.”

By the time we returned to camp, the dead were being separated from the wounded, and the healthy prisoners had been disarmed and placed in an enclosed area of the garrison that seemed to serve as a temporary prison whenever the need arose. They looked crowded and uncomfortable in there, but I figured they had survived the battle, and we would treat them better than they’d do for us. They had nothing to complain about.

“Call your men to attention,” I said to Roden. “Talk to them as their captain.”

“And say what?”

“Well, they did just win a major battle,” I scowled. “You might mention that.”

He called the men into lines, but someone replied that first they were building a fire for the bodies. Roden glanced over at me and I arched an eyebrow, waiting to see what he’d do. He called again for his men, but this time he was roundly ignored. I had no intention of helping him here. In fact, stepping in would be the worst thing I could do. It’d suggest to the men that he needed my help, that they only had to obey him when I was nearby. So I stood back and waited.

The fire was being built just outside the garrison. The bodies of the dead had not yet been placed — a strong, hot fire was needed first. On this rocky soil, it would be the most respectful end we could give them.

Beside me, Roden watched it too. Many of the men working at the fire were the ones who had been with him from the first attack. They were good warriors, some whom I had admired since my earliest years. A few of them had even taught me at times. But at the moment, they were in the wrong.

Finally, Roden nodded his head as if he had come to a decision. He grabbed a bucket and walked out of camp. Only a minute or two later, he returned, this time with the bucket so full that water sloshed from all sides as he carried it. He walked directly up to the fire, and just as the first sparks were beginning to take hold, he splashed it all over the wood, making sure plenty splashed onto the men too.