Page 109 of The Endless War

“That’s why I’m here and Keris is giving the speeches.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the man could talk his way out of hell itself, but do you really think this will work? Because I’m going to be angryif I fought my own way out of hell only to die because of a half-cocked plan.”

Zarrah ground to a halt, catching hold of the other woman’s arms. “No one has to do this. Not you, not anyone in your tribe. You’ve made that clear to them?”

“Yeah, they know. They agreed to it.” Daria pulled free and started walking. “We’ll see if they keep their nerve in the moment.”

Zarrah bit the insides of her cheeks, because she had the same concern about herself. A growing fear that when it came to it, she wouldn’t be able to allow others to take the risk and would leap into the fray. While many would call it bravery, in her heart, she knew it was because watching someone else suffer on her behalf was worse than enduring the hurt herself. It was a sort of cowardice, and not one a leader could afford. She needed to be able to trust her comrades. Needed to give them a chance to prove themselves, which was something Daria and her tribe desperately needed as well.

The noise of the crowd grew louder, people shouting, some angry and some pleading, but faintly, above cries of civilians, she heard sobs of pain.

And Welran’s familiar bellow.

“You have brought this upon yourselves,” he shouted as she and Daria reached the rear of the onlookers. “Long has Arakis hidden the villains who wish harm upon Her Most Gracious Imperial Majesty. Villains who conspired with Maridrina to unleash the demons of Devil’s Island upon Valcotta. Who split and weaken our defenses so that the rats in the north might descend upon us, slaughtering our people and orphaning our children. And to what end? What good has the commander and his band of mercenaries done for you? You hide them, feed them, arm them, and all they bring is suffering.”

A shrill scream filled the air, and Zarrah’s fists clenched as, through the crowd, she caught sight of one of the soldiers holding a hot iron to the foot of a young man. “Where is the commander?” the soldier demanded. “Where is his stronghold?”

“I don’t know,” the man screamed. “I swear it! I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“You were caught painting rebel propaganda on a building,” thesoldier shouted. “We know you are one of them! Confess, and your life will be spared!”

“I don’t know where they are!” His pleas turned to screams again as flesh sizzled, and next to her, Daria sucked in a breath before whispering, “He doesn’t know. Only a select few do, by necessity.”

Given that not even Daria knew the commander’s current location, Zarrah didn’t doubt her words. The crowd was growing, some brave enough to scream demands that Welran cease this horror, that he release those being tortured, but none moved against the spears and swords of the imperial guard holding the perimeter. They were too afraid, too aware that the soldiers would kill them if pressed, but beneath their fear, Zarrah sensed their anger was rising.

“Someone knows!” Welran shouted. “Someone in this crowd has the power to end this man’s suffering. Your friend. Your neighbor. Your brother. Anyone could be one of them, and that makes them the cause of this moment. Reveal the truth and we can end this! We can turn our sights on the commander who has caused this!”

“You caused this,” someone shouted. “You are the one torturing your own people! You’re the one burning the homes of anyone who refuses to kiss Petra’s ass!” The crowd roared their agreement, the air reeking of anger and distress, but those who shoved at the soldiers were knocked back with the butts of spears and the flats of blades.

“The commander has Zarrah Anaphora with him,” Welran shouted. “Intends to raise her up as a puppet empress, but you should know the nature of the woman. Despite Her Most Benevolent Imperial Majesty raising her as a daughter, Zarrah betrayed all of Valcotta for the sake of her lover, Keris Veliant. The King of Maridrina!”

“Shit,” Daria breathed, and Zarrah echoed that sentiment. Grief over Bermin’s death was driving Welran’s actions, not the Usurper’s strategy, and that made him far more unpredictable. Which was not to her advantage.

“The Veliants have been our greatest enemy for generations,” Welran bellowed over the clamour. “Have caused the deaths of numbers beyond counting, yet Zarrah does his bidding. That is who the rebel commander allies himself with, and you would protect them?” He circled the perimeter of the square, eyes searching. “They’veabandoned you. While you suffer to protect them, the commander and his puppet hide in their stronghold.”

“There will be a reckoning,” someone shouted. “The Usurper’s time is coming to an end! The commander will rip off her stolen crown and put it on a deserving head!”

Zarrah saw anger flare in Welran’s eyes, but his voice was mild as he said, “Is that so? By all means, then, let it begin. Let the commander step forward and make his first move, else prove himself a coward. Let Zarrah step forward and claim the crown.” Drawing his sword, Welran caught hold of the hair of one of the crying prisoners and held the blade to her throat. “If you are here, then show yourselves!”

He was going to do it. Was going to kill an innocent Valcottan for the sake of luring her out. Zarrah clenched her fists, desperate to act. Desperate to stop this.

The crowd stilled, looking among themselves as though expecting Zarrah to step out of the shadows to end this. Or if not Zarrah, then the commander they’d supported all these long years. “Come on,” Zarrah breathed even as fear made her want to scream a warning to Daria’s tribe to hold their ground.

Shaking his head, Welran said, “Just as I—”

“I am Zarrah Anaphora,” Daria shouted, stepping forward. “I am here to claim my crown!”

Terror flooded Zarrah’s veins, and despite this having been her plan, she reached for the other woman to stop her.

Daria was too quick. She shoved through the crowd, a pair of soldiers catching hold of her arms and dragging her into the perimeter even as Welran strode toward her, righteous fury in his eyes. He drew his blade, and Zarrah pushed against those in front of her, trying to get to Daria in time.

She’d made a mistake.

She should have taken the risk herself.

Welran lifted his sword, then wrenched back Daria’s hood. At the sight of her face, he spat on the ground. “You think I don’t know Zarrah’s face, fool?”

Before Daria could answer, a hooded man stepped forward. “I am the commander! I am here to fight against the Usurper’s tyranny!”

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