49. Chapter 49
Chapter forty-nine
Cyrus’s ship carved the sea as he drove a blistering pace for his army to follow. He had the coast of Osan in his sight, and he led his fleet up the inlet between Osan and the Shadowlands, toward the Osani capital port.
He’d contemplated landing farther down, on the southeast shoreline, but sailing straight to the capital was shorter and faster, and time was against him.
Initially, he’d hated that he had to march his army through Osan.
They were a kingdom with a rich history of peace and freedom.
But now they were allied with the Shadow King, and they’d share his fate.
In all, Cyrus had two hundred and twenty vessels carrying almost two hundred thousand men.
The challenge was keeping them all close enough to stay concealed under Essandra’s illusion.
The illusion witch in the coven wasn’t as strong as Miriel, but amplified with his power, she was strong enough to cover their ships, strong enough to project the simple open sea, and that was all he needed.
Cyrus had hoped Essandra would stay in Rael, after everything that had happened.
It felt too soon, but she’d wanted to come.
She’d wanted to be by his side, and he was proud to have her there.
He’d brought Teron too. He’d debated it heavily in his mind, but he needed to make sure when he reached the Shadow King, he had every advantage possible.
He couldn’t risk an injury before the final battle.
But Cyrus would make sure Teron stayed safe.
He’d surrounded the old healer with a small army of his own, and he’d brought the dogs.
“You still haven’t told us the plan for when we meet the Osani fleet,” Everan said to him as they made their way up the inlet. The Osani fleet was one of the most revered across both the Emerald and Andan Oceans. Osan had a naval force that was one of the strongest in the world.
They stood on the bow of the ship with Kord and Sergen.
“They won’t be a problem,” Cyrus told him. He kept his eyes on the coastline. Any moment now, he’d see the capital; any moment now, he’d know if what he’d just said was true.
Kord shifted uneasily. “How are they not going to be a problem? They’re not just going to let us sail into their capital. And with their numbers and their cannons, they have the strength to eliminate us from the water—every single ship, every single man.”
“ Viceroy ,” Cyrus called down the blood bond.
“ We’re in position, Sire ,” came the reply.
“ How many ships do they have? ” Cyrus asked.
“ Too many to count. ”
When Cyrus had first had the blood delivered to Serra, the viceroy had been reluctant to use it. It was easy to forget sometimes that communicating through a blood bond wasn’t a common thing, and that people not accustomed were quite put off by it. Orion had thought it was disgusting.
Orion…
His chest tightened.
“ Should we advance, Sire? ”
His mind snapped back. “ No ,” he replied. “ Hold until my command. ”
“Cyrus,” Kord pressed him. “What’s the plan? What are we going to do about Osan?”
“I said they won’t be a problem.”
Please, fucking gods, don’t let them be a problem. If Osan had split their fleet, they’d be a problem. Don’t let them have split their fleet.
“ Cyrus, how much longer? ” Bash’s voice cracked through the bond like a whip, sudden and jarring. “ Gregor’s going to realize. I need to get Miriel out. ”
The timing couldn’t be worse. Between the Serran viceroy and his shipmasters in his head, and Kord and Everan at his side, there were entirely too many voices.
Bash was still worried for Miriel—worried that Gregor would discover that Cyrus’s army had left and that only an illusion remained. But Cyrus needed her to keep the ruse, to keep Aleon’s attention on Japheth. Just until he reached the Shadow King…
“Cyrus,” Kord pushed.
He ignored him. “ Not much longer ,” he told Bash. “ As soon as I have the Shadow King in sight, you can pull her out. ”
“ Where are you now? ”
He hesitated. “ We’re almost to Osan. ”
“ You haven’t even made land? Fuck, Cyrus. ”
“Cyrus,” Kord pushed.
“It will be fine!” he snapped, both to Kord and back down the bond to Bash.
He prayed to the gods it would be fine.
It had to be fine.
It had to work.
“ Cyrus.”
“ What?! ” he stormed in reply.
It was Jaem. “ Mercia is marching to join Aleon. ”
Cyrus stilled.
“ The Shadow King is headed to the mountain stronghold alone ,” Jaem told him.
Surely he hadn’t heard that right. “ Mercia is marching to join Aleon? ”
“ Yes, and the Shadow King is headed to the mountain stronghold ,” Jaem repeated.
But it was still sinking in. Mercia was going to join Aleon, leaving the Shadow King completely alone.
Favor of the gods…
“ Cyrus, there’s more ,” Jaem said. “ The Shadow King has with him only about a quarter of his army. ”
Cyrus’s heart beat faster. It was more than just favor from the gods. It was a sign from fate. Fate was handing him this victory.
He looked up to find all eyes staring back at him. “Mercia marches to join Aleon,” he told Everan and Kord. “The Shadow King is headed to the mountain stronghold alone, with only a partial army.”
Everan and Kord glanced at each other.
“It’s fate,” Cyrus said, almost a whisper to himself. Did they see it now?
The Osani capital came into view, and his pulse thrummed heavily in his ears.
Kord leaned over the railing, as if it would give him better visibility. “Where’s their fleet?” Only two ships sat in the harbor. He whirled back to Cyrus. “Where’s the rest of their fleet?” he asked again.
“Engaged with a threat on their west bank,” Cyrus said.
His brows stitched. “What threat?”
Cyrus spoke the words aloud as he sent them through the blood bond. “ Viceroy. ”
“ Yes, Sire ,” came the reply.
“ Attack. ”
Kord’s eyes flashed in alarm as he realized. “You sent the Serran fleet to bait them?”
“We had to draw them out of the inlet somehow.”
Kord shook his head. “Those men don’t stand a chance.”
“They don’t need to.”
Kord glanced at Everan, then took a step back. “You sacrificed them?”
“They went willingly,” Cyrus said.
“Do they know they’ll die? All of them. All of them. They’ll all die.”
That wasn’t necessarily true, but even if it was… “It’s the price to pay to land our ships.” The price to pay to kill the Shadow King.
He heard his own words echo back at him. A younger version of himself might have railed against a man who said something like that.
Orion would have hated this. Kieve would have hated this.
But Orion and Kieve were dead. And this was the cost of winning.
Kord shook his head again, his mouth agape.
“These are the decisions that need to be made to win this war,” Cyrus told him.
“Who are you?” Kord took another step back. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.” He lingered for a heartbeat, the shock in his eyes hardening into something colder. He turned without waiting for a reply and left Cyrus on the bow. Sergen cast his eyes to the deck, then followed after.
Everan leaned heavily against the railing.
“There was no other option,” Cyrus told him.
His friend sighed wearily. “Except the option not to come at all.”
“That wasn’t an option.”
Everan said nothing.
The two Osani ships that had remained in the port put up a good fight, but even with their cannons, they were no match for Cyrus’s numbers, and they were quickly overwhelmed.
As his ships moored and his men landed, they were met by the Osani king.
He came with only a couple hundred men and now stood between Cyrus and the capital—in a single line, swords drawn.
Their iron-plated armor reflected the sun, and their red-and-yellow banners rippled with the wind.
These were royal guards, and now Osan’s last defense.
There was something majestic about men staring down their inevitable fate, bold and unafraid—something that pulled at the heart.
“Cyrus,” Everan said quietly. “Entreat him to let us pass. Leave him unharmed. Osan isn’t our enemy.”
“He’s allied with our enemy.”
“No, he’s not. He’s an ally of an ally of an ally. There is a difference.”
Cyrus’s horse threw its head impatiently. Cyrus didn’t blame the animal—Cyrus was impatient too.
“Tell him we’ll simply pass through,” Everan urged him again.
Cyrus looked at Essandra, who sat quietly on her own mount, and she gave him a nod.
“Fine.” Cyrus slid down from his horse. As he approached, the king broke from his meager line of men and walked to meet him.
They stopped two paces from each other.
The king pulled off his helm.
Cyrus eyed him. He was older, perhaps thirty years Cyrus’s senior. His long dark hair had been grayed by time and was tied neatly behind him.
“Let us pass, and I’ll let you live,” Cyrus told him.
“Turn around and leave, and I’ll let you go,” the king replied.
This king was fearless, Cyrus would give him that. It was a shame Osan had invested so much into their naval fleet rather than a real army.
“Stand aside,” Cyrus warned again. “My sword is sharpened for the Shadow King. I don’t need your blood.”
“My blood will curse you.”
Cyrus gave a dark chuckle. “I am already cursed.” He was also running out of patience.
“Evil will not prevail here.”
The word cut a trail down his spine, and Cyrus paused. “Evil?” The irony, given this man’s ally.
The king pointed his sword at Essandra. “You bring that wickedness here and expect passage? With her darkness and destruction? I won’t allow it. Not your army nor your witch whore. Leave these lands,” the king commanded.
Cyrus stepped closer so that their faces were no more than a hand’s width apart. “That’s not my witch whore,” he said, his voice low and calm. “That’s my witch wife.”
And faster than the king could move, Cyrus sank the blade of his dagger into the old man’s throat. He held him, blood running down his arm, as he leaned into his ear. “This world has no idea what destruction is,” he whispered. “But I am happy to show them.”
He released the king, who dropped to his knees, sputtering as blood pulsed down the front of his armor before falling forward onto the ground.
Cyrus watched the blood pool toward his feet as chaos erupted around him. He let his men respond to the charging Osani guard, and simply turned and walked back to where Essandra, Kord, and Everan waited.
He reached for Essandra’s hand and planted a kiss on her fingers. Then he swung up onto his horse.
Kord and Everan gaped at him.
“He said no ,” he told them.
Cyrus raised his sword. “Forward!” he thundered to his army.