Page 104 of Oath of War
‘I wish you could “just get drunk,” but you no longer have the luxury of hiding away. You are loved and respected by so many, and they will notice if you disappear—not just your friends or the dragons. The entire fucking army looks up to you as their personal saviour. They revel in your strength. Do you know what they’re calling you? The Harbinger of Light. Light, Annika. Brutal men who embrace death for breakfast are calling you their light, and their light can’t disappear without leaving the world in darkness.’
‘And if I want to? What will you do—chain me to a post, use my geas? I never asked for this. All those people you mentioned, do they know what I am? What I have become? I’m not their fucking light. I’m their death!’
My outburst left me exhausted, and my head hung limply as I let the tears fall to the floor.
‘Death? Sweetheart, are you blaming yourself for Katja’s death?’
‘Katja’s, the hedge witches’, it’s all on me,’ I answered. He sighed gently, taking a strand of my hair and wrapping it around his fingers.
‘I should have known when I saw that haunted look in your eyes. Katja’s death was tragic and cruel, but it could have been anyone standing there when the raróg attacked. And what hedge witches are you talking about?’
‘The peasant women from the borderlands. They sacrificed their lives so I could fight ... Weren’t you surprised I suddenly appeared on the battlefield? I was a broken mess the last time you saw me.’
He was confused and I could tell he didn’t understand. I explained how old Martha had used her magic so I could absorb the women’s life force to restore my power. The more I talked, the more he frowned. When I mentioned using the death spell, he stopped me.
‘Necromancers do that all the time’ he said. ‘I don’t see how your actions were any different.’
I huffed a brief laugh. ‘Necromancers work with death. The Dark Mother granted me a spell that fed on life. Death magic is forbidden for a reason. Only a madman feeds the spell with the lives of others because, in the end, the spell would consume them, too. I knew how it should’ve end when I accepted the sacrifice, but I needed my power back and the women ... they wanted revenge.’
‘You shouldn’t blame yourself, Ani. It was their choice. You gave them what they wanted and more.’ Orm grasped my hands and placed them on his chest. ‘If I had to sacrifice nineteen riders to save the army, I wouldn’t hesitate. War leaves scars, and no one walks away from the battlefield intact. There are always choices to be made and blood to be spilt. I wish I could spare you from it, but I can’t. Life isn’t fair, but instead of taking the blame, think of how many lives you saved.’
‘Maybe, but Katja didn’t volunteer to die in my stead.’ I ground my teeth as I hammered his chest with my fists. ‘She was therebecause ofme, and she died because the Dark Mother spared my thread.’
‘You can’t know that,’ Orm argued, but I turned my gaze away because having said it out loud made it even more real. He wrapped his arms around me. ‘Oh, love, you carry a burden that would crush the strongest heart. It’s not your fault. Katja’s death is not your fault; the hedge witches’ were not your fault. Even if you took their lives and the goddess spared your thread, it wastheirchoice, not yours.’
Orm cupped my face, urging me to look him in the eyes, his golden rims shining brightly. He knew now what I hid inside, yet he still held me close to his heart. He pulled me off his lap and gently sat me on the bed before kneeling at my feet.
‘I failed you. I’m your Anchor, but I let you down, let you suffer alone and seek solace in a bottle. I’ll do better, but you have to promise me—no more hiding. I’ll break any wall, any shell you build around yourself. You are mine, Nivale, and even if your heart bleeds smoke and pain, I will be there to chase the shadows away. All you have to do is let me in.’
I nodded, unable to speak. Orm’s love unlocked the layers of grief, and even long after we went to bed, my gentle bear of a man held me close, stroking my back as I cried myself to sleep.
I’d hoped that Annika’s mood would have improved after our conversation, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The woman whose mischievous smile could light up a room became withdrawn, and nothing I did changed it. She was calmer, though it felt like the calm before a storm.
The situation was made worse by the constant attacks during our journey to Katrass. Cahyon had learned from the previous battle, and in order to prevent Annika from taking control of his forces, he used guerrilla tactics.
The persistent hit-and-run attacks kept our soldiers from resting peacefully, and Ani was becoming frustrated at not being able to stop them. I made sure to reassure her that the attacks were being handled; we either destroyed the enemy or chased them away.
Reynard was gaining confidence the farther we travelled, especially after encountering settlements of humans and fae, descendants of the survivors of the Lich King’s purge during theFirst Necromancer’s War. He even confided in me that he hoped to rebuild Ozar after we freed the kingdom. I didn’t want to dampen his mood, but I was worried about our supplies, which were dwindling too quickly for comfort.
A soldier saluted me, stiff as a rod. ‘Commander, another group is headed towards the camp. Any orders?’
‘Reinforce the sentries and prepare for an attack, but don’t fire on them until you know if they’re hostile. And send the dwarven infantry and light cavalry commanders to my tent.’ I returned the man’s hasty salute and wondered how long we’d be delayed this time. ‘Wait, send the quartermaster, too.’
The soldier acknowledged the order and disappeared quickly, leaving me with a pile of reports, which did nothing to improve my mood.
They can wait, I thought, dropping onto the most uncomfortable foldable chair ever created. It creaked ominously under my weight as I considered Annika’s words.
To my satisfaction, she had joined our war council meetings. During the last one, while everyone enthusiastically discussed attack strategies, she had used a moment of silence to ask a question: ‘Where are the golems?’
The question had stunned the entire assembly. Within minutes, everyone made their excuses and left, not one of them addressing it.
Now, I found myself mulling over the issue. Wherewerethey? We hadn’t encounter any in the battle at Lost Ridge, and they were never a part of the guerrilla attacks. The Lich King’s most famous creations—resistant to magic and difficult to destroy—were singularly responsible for the destruction of Ozar. And we had yet to encounter the frighteningly effective fighting force.
We had thought that Cahyon had used all of his army during the Battle of the Rift, but I finally realised he’d been expecting an easy victory, so he hadn’t bothered committing his best forces.
I was starting to worry, and not just about the golems. As we advanced, the land changed. After the barren soil of the border, we’d passed through salty marshes where seasonal tides seemed to want to reclaim the land, our men, and supplies.
We’d emerged with minimal losses and were now travelling along an old road surrounded by roughly cultivated fields that proved people still lived here. But we were sadly lacking when it came to information. Who, or what, would we face when we arrived at Katrass?
