Chapter VIII. One Last Day As a Lion
VIII
ONE LAST DAY AS A LION
“‘HEATHEN FUCKIN’ BITCH!’
“Lachlan slammed his fist upon the map table, stone pieces shuddering.
With another vicious curse he took hold its edge and flipped it, sending the whole rig spinning, tumbling, crashing to the ground.
Carlos and Tolman shared a troubled glance; Charlotte raised one thin brow, pursing her lips as Lachie sank into a crouch among the wreckage.
“‘How could she…’ His eyes found mine, gleaming, broken-bottle green. ‘How the hell could ye let her bend us over like that, ye dozy, cunt-struck fuckweasel?’
“Aaron was stood in the corner, studying his fingernails.
“‘I confess I’ve never encountered a penis that gets its owner into quite as much hot water as yours.’ He glanced up at me. ‘I hope it was a grand romp? I’d hate to think we’d thrown away our one true chance of slaying the Forever King for a humdrum shag.’
“‘This is nae fuckin’ joke, de Coste!’
“‘Do you hear me laughing, á Craeg?’
“‘What in the Almighty’s name do we do now?’ Charlotte hissed.
“Valentino brushed aside the flap and stepped into the tent, his peregrine on his shoulder. Dawn had not yet broken outside, and he was bleary-eyed from being woken early, still remembering to tip his hat and wink at my cousin.
“I rose to my feet, stomach in my throat. ‘Any sign?’
“‘Her tracks lead south. She stole a string of ponies, so they’re easy enough to spot, even in this gloom. But she made it to a stretch of deadwood, and Eirene lost sight of her.’
“Baptiste rested against one of the tent poles, arms folded, watching me with muted dismay. ‘Doesn’t take a falcon to know where she’s headed, Gabriel.’
“‘Augustin,’ I sighed.
“‘She’s got three hours’ lead, at most,’ Aaron said. ‘And she’s on ordinary horses. I can take Eclipse, ride her down swift, and deal with her swifter.’
“‘If you don’t find her by sunset, she’ll dance to her wealdshape. And then she’s a ghost in those bloody woods.’ I shook my head, jaw clenched. ‘And we can’t afford to lose you, Aaron. Especially now. I need you with me in the slopway.’
“Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. ‘You still mean to attack?’
“‘Goddamn right I do. Fabién Voss dies today.’
“‘And how the fuck d’ye plan to kill him?’ Lachlan demanded. ‘She took Ashdrinker!’
“The gifts of the Esani still flow in these veins, brother. And now, so does the power of the Moonsthrone.’ I picked up a stone soldier fallen from the table, crushing it to finest powder in one fist. ‘Anointed with Dior’s blood, a silversteel blade to his blackened fucking heart will still end Fabién.
Especially after I’ve boiled the blood from his veins.
But this power in me won’t long last. If we’ve a hope to end him, it must be today. ’
“My fellows looked among each other, uneasy.
“‘I’ll command none to ride with me,’ I said. ‘If you’ve lost faith in this cause, I’ll go on as I started. Alone.’
“Lachlan chewed his lip, dragging silver knuckles across his brow. I could see the rage in him, the disappointment. But still he heaved a sigh, rising slow to his feet.
“‘Never alone. Yer back, my blade, remember?’
“Aaron nodded. ‘I stand with you, brother. Always.’
“‘We.’ Baptiste stepped up beside his husband. ‘We stand with you.’
“Charlotte looked to her second, Mathieu. The grizzled lieutenant stared back at his dame, unblinking. His brow was still scribed with ashes, his trust in her undimmed.
“‘The men will go where you bid, Lionne Cendrée.’
“My cousin looked to Lachlan then, lips pursed. My old ’prentice met her eye, and though I knew not what had been said or done, something had shifted between them.
I could see how easily she might be swayed by a gentle word, but Lachie didn’t push, didn’t press.
Knowing this must be the decision of the Baronne of León alone.
“Charlotte turned to her second, chin held high.
“‘Muster the men. Today, we take back this empire.’
“Mathieu smiled, thumping one fist against his breastplate.
With a nod to me, he marched from the tent, already shouting orders to his aides-de-camp.
I heard soldiers rising, leather creaking, steel singing, my every sense still sharper than a thousand knives.
Valentino grunted, stepping to my side. And reaching to the beaten scabbards on his belt, he drew one of his beautiful swords.
“‘These were wrought by Forgemaster Argyle, God rest him. Honor and Valor I named them. Twins, like me and my brother, not made to be parted. But for the glory of being the blade that ends Fabién Voss, I’ll sunder them for today. If you vow to unite them again come the dusk.’
“He handed me one of the blades, gleaming silver in the brazier light. The pommel was decorated with a sevenstar, the crossguard set with the figure of Sanael, Angel of Blood, chalices in his outstretched hands. The silver patterns in the steel were like whorls in finest timber, and down the blade’s length was a quote from the Book of Vows:
“Fear is but the cradle of valor.
“‘I swear it.’ I grasped his arm and squeezed. ‘Merci, brother.’
“Valentino tipped his tricorn to Charlotte. ‘See you in the chateau, mademoiselle.’
“With a wink to Lachlan, Valentino stalked from the tent. Carlos shook my hand and wished me Angel Fortuna’s grace before following his twin into the cold.
I’ve said there’s a strange fellowship forged in combat, coldblood.
A brotherhood no one who hasn’t bled beside another man can understand.
And though a life of war is no man’s true desire, I was grateful that at least in mine, I’d had the fortune to know fellowship like theirs.
“Tolman the Scarred rumbled to a halt in front of me, looking me up and down. Though we’d journeyed months together, fought beside each other, never once had I heard him say a word.
He regarded me mutely, piggy eyes set in a face knotted with scars, and I wondered if this was the moment he might offer some hidden wisdom—his silence held so long as he had no meaningful word to speak.
“‘Twat,’ he growled.
“And out from the tent he stalked.
“Baptiste chuckled, and even Aaron found a smile. Lachie was gathering his gear, checking his pistols, and quiet as a whisper, Charlotte drifted to his side. Not a word passed between them; only the simplest of touches to Lachlan’s shoulder, the gentlest reply of his fingertips against hers.
It lasted but a moment, fragile as porcelain.
But as Charlotte marched from the tent, Lachlan behind her, my old ’prentice and I shared a glance, and the smile on his lips told me all I needed to know.
“As I checked my gear, loaded my wheellock, I saw Aaron take up Baptiste’s hand. Looking into his husband’s eyes, Aaron’s own were rimmed with bloody tears.
“‘I go with Gabriel now. But I’ll vow to return … if you’ll be waiting for me.’
“‘Always,’ Baptiste declared.
“‘With the reserves, Baptiste. At the back of the line.’
“The blackthumb hung his head, his husband leaning forward to catch his eye.
“‘Forever is nothing without you. Promise me, love.’
“The big man glanced to me, shoulders slumping.
“‘I promise.’
“Aaron kissed Baptiste’s lips, some small measure of their old warmth returned.
And together, we stepped into the chill.
The winds were sweeping down from the hills, that dark before dawn piercing each man’s soul.
Soldiers were forming up; infantry with blades and shields, engineers with troop ladders and cable, rows of archers armed with those magnificent mechwork bows.
Cortez and his ’prentices were checking the workings, the forgemaster nodding once to me.
And though the dark was near bottomless, the foe ahead deathless, my heart was lifted up to see them; twenty thousand of my countrymen, standing tall despite their fear, set to burn this horror from the earth.
“We stood before our legion in the tumbling snows, silversaints clad in black leathers, I in my silver-heeled boots and the greatcoat I’d stolen from that dead brother in Maergenn.
I touched the blade at my waist, Phoebe’s blood still filling my veins with fire.
I felt the power, the strength, the faith of these brothers around me.
But more, most, reaching to that vial about my throat, warmed by the beat of my own heart… ”
The Last Silversaint smiled then.
“I felt ready.
“‘Soldiers of León! Hear me now!’
“The troops fell silent, the winds seemed to still as Charlotte raised her voice. She was sat upon a fine grey gelding from our grandfather’s stables, trotting down the line.
The wind blew her hair back from her face, those burns she’d earned defending the city of their birth.
One eye was covered by her patch, but her other blazed with the faith and fury of a hundred suns, meeting each man’s gaze and filling them with the same.
“‘By heaven’s horn are we here assembled! The might of God is on our side this day! The Testaments tell all on earth below and hea’en above is the work of his hand! And all the work of his hand in accord with his plan! Then so too this his will!’
“‘Véris!’ came the cry, fists pounding on chests. ‘Véris!’
“‘We are the sons and daughters of León! The monsters we face have bled our homeland dry, and I say they are owed a bleeding in kind! One day as a lion is worth ten thousand as a lamb, mes amis, mes frères, mes s?urs tous! And if this be the day I die, I vow I will make it a day to be remembered!’
“Charlotte drew her mechwork blade high into the air, the song of steel bright in the rising dawn. Flames were etched down its length, gleaming in the eyes of every man who looked upon her. And her voice was a song in every heart.
“‘Long live House de León!’
“‘De León! La Lionne Cendrée! ’
“Lachlan drew his silversteel, roaring over the wind. ‘For San Michon!’
“The silversaints roared in kind, a bellow of challenge ringing across the snow-struck valley, upon those fangs of stone.
On the mont above, Chateau San Maximille crouched like a carrion bird awaiting the feast. But the blood in me was singing, vow and vengeance calling, and raising Valor high, I roared at the walls above.
“‘One last day as a lion! ’
“And toward battle, victory, an ending, we charged.”