The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

“Actually, I’m grateful to have been part of your demonstration,” I said, still rubbing my backside. “Down to my bones, I am impressed with you.”

“Thank you, sire.” Dawn hesitated and glanced at the other women. “My king, there were rumors about your fate in Avenia. Lord Harlowe assured us he had seen you alive. It gave us hope, but it’s still a great relief to see you with my own eyes.”

“It’s a great relief to be seen.” Then, speaking to all the women and their daughters, I said, “Will any of you volunteer to go up this river and into the castle?” This was the same way I had gone several months earlier to claim the throne, and I visualized it perfectly. “Once you’re inside, you must tell the people the king requests every ounce of heating oil, animal fat, and pitch in the city. Upon my signal, they will pour it into this river.”

“Why destroy all our oils?” a woman behind Dawn asked. “How will we cook, or light our lanterns?”

“We’ll eat cold food in the dark if it saves our lives,” Dawn said to her. “We obey the king.”

“I’ll send a signal when I’m ready,” I said. “A single flaming arrow into the air, straight up.” I looked over to the girls, as strong in heart as their mothers, though most were no older than Fink. “Who will do this for me?”

A smaller girl near the outside of the group raised her hand. From the comparison of their faces, I instantly knew this was Dawn’s daughter. Confirming that, Dawn walked over and gently brushed a hand across the girl’s shoulders, then crouched down to face her.

“There should not be any danger between us and the walls,” Dawn said. “Still, you must run fast and don’t look back. Once you get inside, tell them you have a message straight from the king.”

The girl curtsied to me, then set off so quickly I doubted even the wind could catch her. I thanked the women, then we started back toward our horses, but I heard Dawn calling to us. In each of her hands were leather brigandines marked with the blue and gold colors of Carthya. Mine was a little large and Mott’s a little small, but far better than our thinner Avenian coats.

“We sewed these ourselves,” Dawn said as she fastened mine. “They may not be fit for a king, but they are good enough for the proud warriors of Carthya.”

“That’s all I ask,” I said, happy to finally be rid of the Avenian colors. “How can we get behind the lines from here?”

Dawn explained our best possible route, and Mott and I rode that way, though it took us back amidst the fighting. Mott stayed ahead of me through most of it, protecting me with the might of several men. I did my part, but he had been right before. I often needed both hands on my sword, and felt tired sooner than I should have. I vowed that it would not be necessary in the next battle.

I couldn’t guess at the numbers Mendenwal had here, but as far as I could tell, Avenia was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, Carthya was assisted by a large number of men from Bymar. Amarinda had told me once that their armies were cavalry, but I hadn’t appreciated their skills until seeing them in battle.

A Bymarian soldier ahead of me fought both to his left and right as needed, and used his horse to fight forward. They acted as one, with the horse seeming to know instinctively what its master required. My skills weren’t half so polished, and I promised myself that after the war I would seek out the Bymarians for training.

Mott shouted to the Bymarian soldier that he was here with me and that we needed his help to get behind the lines.

He turned to us. “Your captain has already called for a retreat behind those lines. The bridges across the trenches will be removed soon, and Mendenwal won’t be far behind.”

“Show us the way,” I asked.

“I can, but it won’t do much good. We’ll be overrun before this night is over.”

“No,” I assured him. “We won’t.”

He pushed forward, and with Mott’s help and mine, we cut a path toward the lines. Though I saw great courage in my men, the war itself was nothing but ugliness and horror. I resolved again to end it as soon as possible.

We were permitted through the lines where the men were being organized for their next round in battle. Our numbers were falling, and it wasn’t hard to see that if they were sent out again, most of them would not return. Yet they were calm and focused, and ready for whatever might come. Once Mott and I got under the canopies, I was immediately recognized by several of the men. I asked where Roden was and they said the captain was in a tower at the center of the lines, waiting for the last possible moment to raise the bridges so that as many of our men as possible could get here to safety.

“What if Mendenwal gets across?” I asked one man.

“The captain says we are to hold this line just as we held the border of Gelyn.”

“He’s right.” I stepped closer to him and asked, “How is the captain received by your armies now?”

The man thought about it a moment, then said, “I would give him my life, Your Majesty.”

I would have asked more questions, but by then, Mott had found us some archers and we hurried along behind the crowded lines. I relayed my plan along the way, and with wide smiles they told me it wasn’t likely to work, but they looked forward to trying anyway.

Word spread quickly that I had come, and a man approached me and said Captain Roden wondered if I had orders for him.

I asked, “How long do you think before Mendenwal is at our lines?”

“They’ve fallen back to regroup, sire. We’ll hold them off with our trebuchets and archers, but that won’t work for long. We expect them within the hour.”

“Then tell the captain to keep our men inside these lines.”