Page 53 of Flamesworn

She couldn’t think about Markos, or even her uncle right now. Stavros had been right, there was a traitor in their midst, and she was looking at him.

“You’re thinking about whether to kill me, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, and surprisingly, nodded. “Good. That’s exactly what you should be thinking. That’s what I meant. You see a threat, you’ll take it out, not form a council and debate it to death. Why do you think we left Katoikos in Atreus Akti’s time? The Katoikos senate was corrupt and the leadership treated the army like hired bodyguards or mercenaries used to settle private squabbles. Their patricians played with us like chess pieces, and yet not a one of them knew what it was to fight, to bleed, to suffer, to watch your friends die. Not a one of them, Kataida.Not even one.”

He said the Arkoudai motto like it was some guaranteed way to win her over, and hearing the words of their sacred oath in the air around her brought her closer than anything to losing her temper.

You’re wrong. You’re wrong, and you know it. We didn’t leave Katoikos because we were fed up with rich politiciansand settling land disputes and whatever else you think was so awful. We left because once the Diabolos Islands rose from the sea, the water levels changed and made it too dangerous for the Great Port to function. We came to the desert because that’s how people were going to come to Katoikos, across the Evrys Bay, and it would have been left unguarded.

We didn’t come to Arktos because we hated the Katoikos. We came to Arktos to protect them.

That’s what we are. We’re protectors. We took sacred oaths to protect our people and we have never broken those oaths. Not once.

Not even one.

That was the truth of the founding of Arktos. Historians loved to pontificate about why the army suddenly withdrew from Katoikos and took up residence in the desert, neatly placing itself between the narrow bay that separated the mainland continent from the island of Katoikos, at the time the wealthiestoriain Iperios. Dramatists liked to make it all about natural enmity, an army of dominants who grew tired of their spoiled submissive politicians and left to found a country not defined by wealth and idleness.

But she was an Akti with the lingering memories of Atreus, whose last thoughts as he lay dying in Ares’ arms had been of Katoikos and the man he’d left behind—the man he’d loved so fully that he’d taken his army into the desert, when all he’d ever wanted was to protect and serve. It was this man to whom he’d written letters every day after leaving Katoikos, the man who’d held so much of his heart that he hadn’t been able to love Ares like Ares loved him.

The Katoikos imperator, Augustus Ectorius.

It wasn’t like it was a secret, back when Atreus was alive, it was simply…not an issue. Now, the truth of it was found only in Atreus’ letters, the ones he hadn’t wanted Ares to read. But herfather knew, even Theron knew. Surely Menelaus would realize that she knew herself.

But he took her silence as a cue to continue, and she let him, needing to know what was waiting for her beyond the closed wooden door.

“Standing behind you is the god of war, willing to do as you say. Don’t you see, Kataida? You’re not only Atreus reborn, you wield the god of war and command their allegiance, just as he did! How could younotbe meant to lead Arktos?”

Because I’ve never wanted to lead Arktos, only fight in her name. I’m a soldier. I’m a killer. I’m Kataida, I am not Atreus.

“You want me because of them, Ares.”

“I am not yours to wield,” Ares said, from where they stood behind her. “You must know that. I’ve never answered your summons and I never will.”

Menelaus bowed. “Yes, lord, I understand. But you’ll answer hers. Kataida, you know I’m right. If we want Arktos to prosper, we need to return her to a far better steward than the one we have, a true Arkoudai.”

“Malik is an Arkoudaiandhails from the ancient line of Iperian nobility,” she said, but she kept her voice even, a little curious. “How is that not evenmoredesirable? You sound like a Katoikos, Menelaus. They revere their land as sacred, not us.”

“We revere the state,” he said, nodding, and she could tell that the more she allowed him to talk, the more he thought she was convinced. Good. “And we revere the being who is standing behind you. They revere you. What is that, if not a sign of who should be our Strategos?”

“Hmm,” Ares said, a soft sound, but other than that, they were being strangely quiet.

“Damian Akti fell thirty-one years ago.” Her gaze fixed on him, this man she’d trusted so blindly that she’d followed him out of campdespitehaving doubts and second thoughts. He’dknown she would come with him, and the betrayal of her loyalty to him stung almost as much as the hateful things he’d said about her family. “My father was twelve. Unless you can tell me how you just knew he was going to grow up and sire children with anoutsider,I think this is all an attempt to get me on your side because of Ares.”

“Damian was injured. A small group of us found him and helped him recover. When he heard what happened, how easily he was forgotten and passed over, he stayed. Make no mistake, he is with us willingly. It is only recently that he’s started to question if this is the right thing, another sign of the strain Arktos is under when her leadership fails. And your father has failed, Kataida. I’ve always taught you, haven’t I, that failure needs to be a learning experience?”

“You have, yes.” She didn’t believe him, of course, but she was still uncertain how to proceed. She was a soldier, but the art of subterfuge was lost on her. “Is he really here, or did you just want to get me as far away from Axon as you could?”

“Both, as it happens. Damian didn’t want to kill you, but he’ll happily killforyou, as will all of us who have pledged our loyalty to returning Arktos to her true glory. With Damian Akti leading your army as you wield the god of war, this can all be over quickly.”

“You want me to use them both, my uncle and my lover.” She met his eyes, and ah, there was something there when she said that–surprise, distaste, worry? It was gone too fast for her to catch. “To kill my entire family.”

“Not kill,” Menelaus corrected, so quickly that she didn’t believe him for a single second. “Exile. Your father can go back to Lukos with his wife if he wishes, and their children, even to Gerakia if he wants to be a scholar. It’ll be a life he’ll enjoy more, and don’t you want that for him?”

“Of course I do.”

“You know he’s never really been happy as Strategos,” Menelaus said, going in for the kill. He was standing in front of her now, sincere and dangerous, and she wanted her sword buried in his neck, wanted to watch him bleed out and die, wanted to take his coins and spit on his face like the fucking cowardly traitor he was. He had killed children. He’d lied. He had her uncle in chains. He thought her the sort of person who would cast of all her loyalties and familial bonds aside forpower.

She used to think that her family didn’t know her at all, and maybe they didn’t. Maybe they’d never understand her. But they loved her, and they’d never give up on her.

Not even one.

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