Chapter 3 #2
I thought of Harlon, how much easier this would have been if he was here by my side.
He wouldn’t look at me like I was some untouchable deity.
He’d see me as me. But I didn’t even know where he was.
He’d chosen the Reapers, he’d turned his back on me and broken his promise that he would never pick them over me.
It hurt. And what hurt more was that Mavus had said Harlon would do this in the end.
And I hated that that snake of a trader had been right all along.
Mavus had sold me out and left me fighting for my life and as soon as he was brought to me, I’d cut his head off. I couldn’t believe I’d started to trust him. I’d been a damn fool to think he was making a friend of me for anything more than personal gain.
It surely wouldn’t be much longer before they found him. Then he’d meet with the sharp end of my sword.
“They’re calling you Kysharna, you know?” Ransom said with a smirk. “Our saviour.”
My chin lifted at that. This was what I’d wanted, what I’d raved about for years.
I was the revered warrior I had always hoped to be.
So why did I feel like I was drowning in a cloud of darkness?
Why did I think of Kaiser’s death with a knot in my chest?
Why did I ache for the easy company of a warrior of Stormfell?
What had happened to the girl who knew she was destined to lead Cascada to victory?
I scored a hand over my face.
“I thought you’d smile at that, runt,” Ransom commented, assessing my reaction to the use of that word. But it felt good not to be on the receiving end of more fake fawning.
“You wanted to be a legend, now here you are,” he added.
“How would you know what I want, pishalé?” I tsked.
“Oh come on, you never shut up about it,” he taunted. “You talk loudly as well. A lot. It’s no wonder you have no friends.”
Again, he assessed my reaction, the jibe only making me relax further. Ransom’s dislike of me was a strange kind of comfort. A normality in a sea of change.
“You’re not going to lick my ass anymore then?” I questioned. “Didn’t you call me your favourite sister the other day?”
Ransom pursed his lips. “Father’s been telling me to do a lot of things, but I know you’re not buying it.”
“No, I’m not,” I agreed. “Don’t bullshit me like the rest of them. At least let our hatred for each other be something real that I can hang onto in this new life.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “I mean, I don’t like you. But hate? Nah, I’m not going to waste my energy on that.”
“Well I hate you enough for the both of us, I suppose,” I mused and he grinned, almost making me do so in return. But fuck him.
“So? Will you have a word with Father?”
“I’ve tried everything. He ignores my requests.”
“Why is the great Void requesting anything?” Ransom asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I say she could demand whatever she likes or all hell might just break loose.” He rose to his feet. “You want this war to end, Everest. So make it end. You don’t have to answer to anyone anymore.”
He left me with that thought and I frowned after him, finding the fruit men peering back inside hopefully.
“Oh come on then,” I relented, waving them in and reclining myself on the pillows as they surrounded me, flexing their muscles as they started feeding me grapes.
I chewed them blandly, trying to enjoy the experience, but I couldn’t really get into it.
When one of them brushed my arm and gave me a seductive look, I realised I could probably lose myself in the heat of their muscles if I wanted.
But my thoughts turned elsewhere, to the keen press of a hard body, to the feel of an enemy mouth against my own, to the burning wetness I’d felt between my thighs when I’d rocked my hips over the hardness of his cock.
I clapped a hand over my eyes, a stream of curses leaving my lips in fury at myself. I was only quieted by the touch of a strawberry to my mouth and I gave in and chewed the delicious thing until it was mush.
These thoughts had to be some sort of fucked up taboo fantasy because they deserved no place in the real world. They needed to be cut out and burned. He was dead, rotting on a battlefield and all these strange thoughts of him needed to follow suit.
“Silka la vin.” His voice was a rough echo in my mind that made my heart thunder. Killer of mine. That was the meaning of those words. But it only left me with more riddles than answers. How had he known I would be his end?
“Kaské, that’s it.” I shoved to my feet, knocking some blueberries flying and sending the men scrambling to pick them up in my wake. I strode outside to another raucous round of cheers, but I had eyes for only one person.
I made for my Father who was standing on the shore, looking out to where the White Mare was anchored in the cerulean sea and talking with a few of his men. The ship was a beastly thing, casting a shadow that dominated the shoreline, the mare at its helm dazzling under the bright sun.
A flash of blue caught my eye, dancing across the waves and I frowned, trying to see it clearer, thinking of my traitorous companion Calcifiend. But it must have been the light because I found nothing as I hunted for him.
“Father,” I called and he turned, his eyes brightening at the sight of me.
“Ah, Everest, I was just regaling the moment your Void swept through enemy armies and–”
“And it shall do so again this very night,” I said firmly. “We’re not going to sail around Cascada on some victory parade. Not yet. Not until we win this war. Then we’ll visit them with the news of our triumph.”
My mind turned to the Reapers’ monster at Never Keep again, but surely this was the most urgent task. We could deal with that as soon as Cascada had secured peace. The Magistrine would handle it then.
Father’s lips firmed into a tight line. “Like I said, we have a plan that–”
“You have a plan and I am denying it. Because I am the Void and I am in charge. I will not do this at all otherwise. So we march on Pyros. That’s an order.”
His mouth opened and closed while his friends shared uncomfortable looks.
Father’s fists curled and I remembered the strike of them as a child, my instinct to back up rioting in my flesh. But I didn’t. I stood firm, staring him in the eye and reminding him of who was really in control here. If he wanted the Void, then he had better do as I say.
He wetted his lips, considering me for several seconds then he painted on a smile for his friends, slid an arm around my shoulders and marched me away from them.
“We need time to rest and send for reinforcements,” he reasoned in a low mutter.
“A week then.”
“You do not understand what is needed for the preparation of battle. Our warriors need to recuperate. Strategies must be laid.”
“And they shall be.” I pulled away from him, raising my chin and forcing him to face the decision in my eyes. “How quickly can our forces be ready?”
I looked to the ocean of people around us and the many soldiers who were basking in the sunlight. They’d already eaten many nourishing meals and they had that spark in their eyes again that told of a thirst for bloodshed.
Cascadians didn’t need long between battles.
We were born and bred for this life. Father just wanted us to boast about our newfound advantage over our enemies.
But we’d be fools to give them time to lay their own preparations of our next strike.
If we did this swiftly, we could have peace in mere weeks.
Once the rest of The Waning Lands felt the power of the Void, they would bow to us.
“A couple of months perhaps,” he said firmly.
“Bullshit,” I growled and his jaw ticked as if he might punish me for that retort. He certainly would have done once. But he saw me as I was now. The truth of my strength.
“They could be on the road in two weeks and you know it,” I hissed and I felt the Void rising in answer to my ire. How easily I wielded it now. Like a door had been thrown wide inside my head and unleashed the beast within.
His throat worked as he felt the touch of my power, the kiss of the threat. A reminder of who he was denying.
“They might be on the road in two weeks but they would be ill-prepared. In six weeks I will have them marching back to war,” he said quickly, shuddering at the lost connection to his magic.
“Four and you have a deal,” I said in compromise.
Father took a slow breath as I withdrew the Void from him and he gave me a stiff nod.
He touched his fingers to his throat to amplify his voice across the crowd. “Warriors, we have a change of plan. We sail for Pyros in four weeks. Rest up, for we will soon return to war to seize our first victory!”
A bellow of assent went up and a chant of ‘Kysharna, Kysharna, Kysharna,’ followed, making me feel all-powerful. Ransom had been right. I wasn’t Father’s pawn after all.
“Let’s talk tactics then,” I rounded on Father again. “I think we can do this without bloodshed, or at least minimal bloodshed. If we’re attacked then of course we’ll counter, but I think we can force our enemies to surrender with the mere power of the Void.”
Father laid a hand on my back, leaning down to speak in my ear and sending a shiver along my spine at his words.
“You don’t know true war yet, my child. We may march on your order this time, but my warriors will play to my rules out there.
You might be the crown in this game of war, but while I have you, that makes me the king. ”
“Key words, Father: while you have me,” I warned and his eyes flickered dangerously.
“You’re either with me or you’re against me, child.
I’m your flesh and blood. Deny that and you deny your family and everything you were bred to be.
Is that what you wish for? To be alone in this war with no experience of battle strategy.
I am your ally and your greatest tool in the victory you seek for Cascada.
So what will it be? Do it together or do it alone? ”
My chest burned as I stared at him, the truth of his words all too sharp.
“Together,” I breathed because he was right; I didn’t have the knowledge to wage this war alone.
And the thought of doing so left me suddenly uncertain.
I had no one else in the world since I’d taken my father’s hand on that battlefield.
Harlon had chosen the Reapers. And I’d chosen this path over a crazed plan with the Sky Witch.
But with Father’s hand lifting to rest on my shoulder, I felt the full weight of that choice.
And for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I’d made the wrong one.