Betrayal
Math summoned his shield immediately.
Oddly, though, the knights didn’t close, although perhaps that wasn’t so odd considering they were facing off against two adults and thirteen children, some as young as three, one of whom was the imperial empress.
If they wanted to make sure Asali wasn’t harmed, a little discretion would be necessary.
A logical explanation, but it rang false.
The knights weren’t hanging back in the hopes of a peaceful surrender.
They were distracted. Three of them weren’t paying attention to Math or Tanxi at all, but stood by a window, curtain drawn aside to stare down at the street.
There were knights covering the doors, knights watching out the other windows.
One woman sat at a table, wincing as another bandaged her arm.
Math wasn’t positive just how much time had passed since he last saw the man, but he really didn’t think it could’ve been more than thirty minutes.
What on earth had happened in the last thirty minutes?
Commander Talu had aged years. He stared at Math with an expression carved from stone: stubborn, angry, and yet somehow also resigned.
Math had grown up around the man his whole life. He knew him, or thought he did.
He understood that expression.
Something had gone wrong, and Math didn’t think it was his almost-escape.
“What happened?” Math asked, wary.
Talu’s jaw worked against his throat. His lips were such a tight, angry line they were almost invisible. He held up a finger. “Listen.”
Math did. At first, his mind refused to comprehend what he was hearing. Hard bangs, too sharply pitched to be exploding bombards, too tightly packed together to be someone hitting a barred gate with a battering ram.
But it was a sound he’d heard before. Just that morning, in fact.
Completely ignoring the danger, Math dismissed his shield and rushed to a window.
Not one of the knights made a move to stop him.
Math gazed out the window and felt his breath shudder in his chest, like the air itself was trying to retreat, hide.
Kaliri soldiers were advancing—on the palace, and on the cenobium.
More Kaliri soldiers than he could count. More than this city could withstand.
Math circled the proper spells, sharpened his vision, and confirmed his worst fears: they were, all of them, using Kaliri long arms.
Math turned and stared at his former commander.
“They told me they’d be sending thirty people to attack,” Talu explained in a dull, flat voice.
“Someone decided to add some zeros to that number,” Math replied. He felt sick, and he took no joy at all in being right.
Talu deserved everything that was about to happen to him, but the rest of the city didn’t.
“I don’t understand how they got so many people inside—”
“Weren’t you listening?” Math snapped. “I told you! I told the entire Council of Commanders! I just watched you activate a dead gate portal. Are you really naive enough to think that was the only one? That Sanistral didn’t have other missing pieces he gave to other agents?”
“Control yourself—” one knight chided.
“Fuck controlling yourself!” Math snapped. The last thing he wanted to hear from these damn hypocrites who ranted at, betrayed, and murdered people was that he needed to control himself.
“Math! Language!” Iduan chided.
Math let out a shocked laugh and tilted his head in acknowledgment of her scolding. He stopped smiling when he turned to face Talu. “I warned you,” he repeated.
“The Kaliri don’t have the infrastructure, the industrial capacity—”
“But Sanistral does!”
“I just couldn’t imagine the Kaliri putting themselves so fully under the control of another sovereign nation.” He sounded like he was in shock, still trying to rough out the shapes of his own failure.
“He’s a grim lord,” Math growled. “They literally worship him as one of their gods.”
A little girl’s voice interrupted everyone. “That doesn’t matter.”
Math turned to face Asali. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
She nodded at him, but kept her attention focused on Talu. “What are you going to do? Why are you here?”
“I need to know where the regent is,” Talu said.
Empress Asali’s expression turned obstinate. “No.”
“You’re a little girl. You don’t know what needs to be—”
Math could’ve told the man that was the wrong tactic.
“No!” Asali said in a louder voice.
A sharp, loud sound rang out, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. A small burst of plaster rained down dust from the ceiling. Several knights jumped back away from the windows.
They all paused, but no more shots rang out, at least not specifically at the cenobium. Maybe someone had seen a flash of armor and tried for a lucky shot. Maybe it had just been a stray lead ball.
“We can’t stay here,” Tanxi said. No one disagreed with her. The Kaliri were marching on the palace, but it was unlikely they’d ignore the Idallik headquarters.
Math turned back to Talu. “Why do you want the regent?”
Talu bared his teeth. “I am not a traitor, Mathaiik.”
Math stared. From off to the side, Tanxi let out a single, mocking laugh.
“I would never harm the empress. I was doing this because—”
“Don’t,” Math interrupted. “Just don’t. I am not interested in your excuses. Just answer the damn question.”
Talu’s jaw tightened. “There’s a command structure problem.”
Of course, there was.
Tanxi snorted. “What does that even mean?”
Math curled his lip. “It means he can’t ask for aid from the other cenobiums—because he killed their commanders. The Order has no authority over the army, and anyone who had that authority at the palace is dead.”
Math almost laughed. Sanistral had said the Idallik Order wouldn’t be a problem.
He’d been right.
“Except for the regent,” Talu said stiffly. Even saying it looked like it hurt.
“Fine,” Math said. “That fits with our plans nicely. But you don’t get to come with us. Once we’re outside Old Town, our two groups part ways.”
Talu said nothing for several seconds and then shook his head. “No.”
“No?” Math raised an eyebrow.
Talu’s expression turned obdurate. “No. We’re not leaving. My people and I will hold them off while you get the children out.”
Math paused. “You know what those weapons do.”
“I’d rather meet the Tri-Mother shot from the front than the back.” Talu stood, gestured for the other knights to fall in next to him. He held up his chin as he seemed to dare Math to say something. “I will not be hanged.”
A better man than Math might have forgiven him then, given Talu a pardon. Maybe Talu was even expecting it.
Math said nothing. He just picked up little Jura and walked out.