Page 142 of Scorched Earth
“You killed them?”
“Just one,” Lydia said softly, and the story of all that they’d learned poured from her lips.
Dareena muttered a string of colorful curses under her breath, then shook her head. “Even if Anukastre does join forces with us, it may not be enough. Rufina’s army of blighters is in the tens of thousands. Gamdesh would have been able to turn the advantage to us, but they are in no position to offer aid, as the Cel invaders from across the seas are marching north as we speak, their eyes on Emrant.”
Lydia’s thoughts went to Teriana, who was a prisoner of that army. Who’d be in the midst of those battles. Her chest tightened with a sudden flood of fear tempered only by her memory of Madoria’s words.Teriana is where she’s supposed to be.
“Kaira is near Emrant with a large portion of her army, with more mobilizing to aid. Emrant might well suffer under a siege, but there is no reason they shouldn’t be able to hold against the Cel until reinforcements arrive.”
Lydia exchanged a tense look with Killian, then said, “I wouldn’t underestimate the Cel army. If they gain control of that xenthier stem and the path is good, more legions will come. Tens of thousands of trained soldiers. Gamdesh needs to know what they’re up against.”
“The Maarin have warned them,” Dareena replied. “But the fact of the matter is, Gamdesh lost the majority of their fleet to Rufina’s attack on Mudaire. They don’t have the ships to move soldiers at speed and it takes time to march an army across a third of Gamdesh.”
A wave of unease passed over Lydia, and she pressed fingers to her temple. These decisions were all now hers to make, and she felt woefully out of her depth.
“Gendorn has refused our requests for aid,” Dareena said. “They think they can hide in the frozen north, failing to realize that while Rufina’s personal goal is the destruction of Mudamora, the Corrupter won’t be content until all of Reath is under his sway.”
Everyone was quiet.
“I’ve seen her host,” Dareena finally said, her green eyes haunted. “When they aren’t marching or fighting, they lie on the ground in heaps where they fall. Like mass graves of men, women, and children.”Her throat moved as she swallowed. “When it is time to march, they rise as one under the singular will that binds them. The blighters don’t fight well and are not unreasonably strong, but they also don’t feel pain. They keep fighting despite catastrophic injuries. The only way to stop them is to take off their heads or burn them.”
“She did the same thing to her own people,” Lydia said quietly. “Poisoned thousands then animated them to hunt for us. They are dead, though. Their souls are with the Six.”
“Tell that to the soldiers who have to cut them down.” Dareena passed a hand over her face as though trying to wipe away a memory. “We’re losing men to desertion by the droves, though where they think they can flee to, I don’t know. The whole gods-damned world is at war.”
Draining her cup, she said, “So to answer your question, no. We can’t defeat them by strength of arms, so all our hope depends on our ability to destroy the blight. Malahi’s ability, if what you say is true. Without it, Rufina loses her ability to raise the dead as blighters and we might have a chance at defeating them.”
“We believe Malahi can do it,” Lydia said. “There are ancient paintings in Anukastre that show as much. Beautiful artwork that has stood the test of time by virtue of being underground, and it shows people with branches for hands standing before rivers of black. The Anuk believe they were tenders of old.”
“But no records of exactly what they did?”
“No, the Anuk believe the paintings are a thousand or more years old, and any record that might have existed has been lost to war, fire, or time. Our hope is that the library in Revat will still have some record. Seldrid plans to send word to the Sultan requesting that he have the librarians assist in the search, but my plan was to go look myself, because it isn’t just the land that has been corrupted. My plan…” Lydia trailed off, reality slapping her in the face. “But that’s no longer possible, is it? The High Lords aren’t going to allow their puppet queen to traipse off to Revat to dig for answers in the stacks.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Lady Calorian, whose glass was empty in her hand.
“Hacken aims to be king,” she said quietly. “But though he holds a great deal of sway over the High Lords and Ladies currently sipping wine with him in his study, they refuse to kneel to him, which is reason for the betrothal to Ria. A betrothal that I expect will never see a wedding, for of a surety, his eyes are now on Kitaryia.”
That’s not my name.
“If he aims to try to marry me, he’s in for a harsh rejection,” Lydia muttered.
“You say that now, but you forget the power he wields,” Lady Calorian said. “Our lands are the few untouched by blight or war; our crops and water are nearly all that Mudamora has to feed the people. What if he makes his support, and all that comes with it, conditional on a betrothal? Will you say no? Because if he removes his support, you will be queen no longer.”
Lydia’s lips parted to unleash an angry retort, but instead said, “He wouldn’t do such a thing. It would be madness to risk the entire kingdom on a bid for power.”
“All my sons are gamblers, in their own way,” Lady Calorian responded. “Seldrid with his gold and Killian with his own life, but Hacken? Hacken gambles with the lives of others, and he does not much care how many he loses if it helps him achieve his ends.”
Killian abruptly rose to his feet, going to the balcony, and Lydia followed him. The rear of the manor overlooked a dense canopy of trees, the sunlight dappling the leaves and the air alive with the hum of insects, though she could also hear the horses in the pastures whinnying beyond.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “This is the last thing I wanted. But for all Malahi violated my trust, I understand her motivations. If I don’t wear the crown, theywillvote for Hacken, and I do not think he will act in the best interest of the people.”
“I know.” His brown eyes fixed on the trees, though she doubted he was seeing them. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy to dangle you before all those High Lords as a future wife for them or their sons.”
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest. “I’m yours. There is no future for me without you in it.”
“But…”
Growing up in Celendor had trained her in the arts of politics, and like it or not, the lessons she’d learned in the East had left their mark. “I think we need to string them along with the potential of marriage until we’re on the other side of it.”
