35. Who Am I Fighting For?
35
Who Am I Fighting For?
Idris
M y feet slowed to a halt in the courtyard of the melted palace, and I stood still amidst the chaos, my head as hollow and silent as my heart. Snow and ash drifted all around me, stirred by a bitter breeze, and beyond them, people rushed back and forth, their voices failing to penetrate my ears, their frantic tasks failing to stir any emotion in me.
I was cold and numb, inside and out, and I didn’t know what to do next.
I had nowhere to go, no solitude to retreat to within those warped walls. I would find no shred of comfort here, or anywhere, not after the disaster that had unfolded outside the makeshift ward.
I was spared coming to a decision on what to do with myself by the clank of armour signalling my brother’s approach. He stomped out of the darkness with snowflakes clinging to his freshly sheared hair and blood splattering his painted breastplate.
“There you are.” His voice was hoarse. “I need you to lead a drift against Tir o Gwanwyn in two day’s time, perhaps three.”
Lead? I shook my head. My brain was as heavy as a rock. “I don’t belong to a drift anymore.”
I didn’t belong to anyone or anything .
“You do now. I’ve spoken with Lady Celyn and she has agreed to place Tir o Gaeaf’s drift under your control.”
He spoke as though he expected me to be glad of this news, as though I was riddled with the same ambition that governed him. Even if I had been, I was in no state to lead. I couldn’t think straight. Fog swirled inside my head. I would only lead those riders to their deaths.
“I can’t waltz in and take command of an established drift.”
“You can. You’re a prince.”
My shoulders drooped. Why did titles haunt my every step? Was there no escaping them? Only minutes ago, I’d given up the woman I loved, freeing her to shoulder a title of her own without the burden of me to hold her back, but no matter how far I ran, my birthright was always one step behind, trying to sink its talons in. I was unworthy of it. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to use it to wedge myself into yet another role of privilege. Something Anwir would never understand.
My twin took my silence as acceptance and ploughed on. “We will strike Tir o Gwanwyn with all haste. The preparations will begin at dawn’s first light, and I expect your presence in the council. If Lady Celyn’s forces can mobilise in time, we can attack in two days from now. The drift will lead the assault. I trust you remember all your training after all those centuries spent sleeping?”
I remembered everything, including the finer details of our arrangement. “What use will I be in the air without my magic?”
My power was stronger in the skies, and if not for the bargain I’d made with Anwir, the air would have been a perfect battlefield for me. As it was, I’d be nothing but an unarmed male on a horse. A male with nothing and nobody to live for .
“Are you asking permission to use your power?” Anwir sounded half aghast, half sneering.
I’d had enough. I didn’t want to be here, talking to him. I didn’t want to be anywhere. In the distant, echoing corners of my mind, I realised that I was shivering in the same too-thin clothing I’d worn to bring Aliza back from Tir o Hydref. The same clothes she’d hungrily watched me strip from my body yesterday evening.
That thought snapped something inside me, something that had held my temper at bay.
“I don’t need your permission to use what is mine! I could strike you down this very moment, with this kingdom as my witness, if I chose to, and there is not a thing you could do to stop me. You stand there doling out orders only because I allow it.”
Beneath a freckle-like dusting of dried blood, Anwir’s face paled.
“Remember that,” I continued before he could interrupt. “Remember it every time you think to open your mouth. I will fly with the drift if that is what is required of me, but I will not take command, and you will not command me .”
“Lower your voice,” Anwir hissed, despite the passersby being far too absorbed in their own affairs to pay us the slightest heed. They all cared for something beyond themselves. I could see it in their worry-stricken eyes, in the exhaustion dragging at their features. They had no time for the bickering of two spoilt princes.
“Please,” I snarled right back. “Lower your voice, please .”
“What has gotten into you?”
What had gotten into me? Nothing. There was nothing left inside me, when only this morning my heart had been full, as close to whole as it could ever be. Why did I care how Anwir addressed me? Why did I care that I would be as useless in the skies as I was everywhere else?
I didn’t. I didn’t care about any of it.
My voice flattened as I said, “I’ll fly with the drift. I’ll await the orders of the Colonel.”
Anwir narrowed his eyes as though my sudden compliance was a trick. “Very well. You are clearly exhausted, Idris. Get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I need you fit to fly. Right now, you look like shit.”
I nodded, refusing to rise to his bait as I strode past him and into what remained of the palace in search of a room to collapse in. I might look like shit, but I didn’t feel it.
I felt nothing. I was nothing.
It had been a long time since I’d flown with a drift, but the sight of a full regiment of fifty horses and riders soaring alongside me didn’t fill me with the exhilarating thrill it once had. Back then, centuries ago, it had been a game. There had been no wars to fight, only training manoeuvres to practise and perform. The irony of it wasn’t lost on me. Back then, with all the shortsighted bravery of youth on my side, I’d had something to fight for. Now, my son was dead and I’d let Aliza go. Now, I had nothing left to lose. How was I supposed to find the will to fight? Did it even matter anymore?
Yes .
That tiny voice fought through the grey fog swirling inside me, small and weak, but insistent. It mattered, it cried out . I mattered. Avenging Taryn, securing a safe future for Aliza, even saving the innocent lives of Neath… all of it mattered.
Why couldn’t I bring myself to care?
Even the wind roaring past wasn’t enough to clear my mind, nor was the changing landscape. The moonlit mountain range bordering the south-eastern coastline of Ymyl Cefnfor was giving way to craggy hills and steep valleys. Before long, they would soften into gently rolling waves of land, and soon after that we would cross into Tir o Gwanwyn. There, we would fight. Some of us would die.
I glanced back at my comrades, my hair whipping across my eyes. Most were strangers. A few vaguely familiar faces were dotted amongst the ranks, but they were no more than half-forgotten acquaintances. This was not the drift I’d trained with as a young male. I didn’t know them, and they didn’t know me. Nothing good could come of my presence. At least Anwir had backed down on his insistence that I fill the role of Colonel. The males and females present would fly better under the command of someone they knew and trusted, even if they’d claimed it was an honour to accept a prince into the fold.
Honour was a trap. It had been honour that had driven me to sever whatever was growing between me and Aliza. It was the reason I had cut her free of the shackle of me. I could not allow myself to be a factor in her decisions. My reluctance to rule would not be permitted to sway her from the throne, if that was what she wanted. Whatever her choice, it would not be because of me. Without me, there would be nothing to hold her back from stepping into the role she was already filling so well. A brave and compassionate queen.
My guts twisted into an impossible knot, and I tightened my hold on Saeth’s reins. The horse’s ears swivelled in my direction, alert to every tiny adjustment in my seat and grip. I swept my hand over his mane in reassurance. I’d reluctantly braided the long, blueish-grey hair into a row of neat buds cresting the curve of his powerful neck, standard practice amongst the drift, intended to keep things streamlined in battle. Perhaps I’d survive long enough to remove them. If not, one of the other riders would see to it.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge this despondency. If I couldn't rid myself of it by the time we crossed the wards protecting Ymyl Cefnfor, I would die. I would be slow, faltering, and I would pay with my life.
I cared little, but the thought of leaving this world with Aliza’s hurt and fury fresh in my mind did not sit easy on me. Had she begun to understand that I only held her back, or did she hate me? She had every right to do so, but if I was to take my final breath, I didn’t want these to be the thoughts I took with me.
The sight of Lady Celyn’s army, assembled near the border, did nothing to dispel my melancholy. My brother was down there, somewhere. My useless, selfish brother. He wouldn’t risk unleashing his magic, however dire the situation became. He would sooner be buried as a displaced king than live as a prince. I was no better. My power would remain hidden too, as would my true identity. A fine pair, we made. What would our mother think of the cowards we had become?
What would become of us when that too-small army teleported one final time, right into the midst of the city?
Would Aliza mourn me or rejoice at the severing of our bond ?
The answers evaded me, but as we sped over the heads of that army, as those on the ground turned their faces skyward, pointing in awe, as we led the charge into Tir o Gwanwyn, I knew my moments of ignorance were dwindling with every beat of white wings.
Dawn’s first light bled into the sky as I nudged my calves against Saeth’s flanks, a few inches behind my natural riding position. At the signal, the horse tucked his wings tightly to his side, blanketing my leather-clad legs in damp feathers. For a brief moment, we floated on the wind, but then Saeth’s muzzle tilted almost imperceptibly down, and the ground hurtled toward us at unnatural, eye-watering speed. With it, came the dark mass of the still sleeping city of Dwyrdd, capital of Tir o Gwanwyn.
My eyes squinted at the onslaught of air, suddenly alive with the zing of magic. My comrades readied their elemental weapons, but I ignored the crackle of lightning stirring within my bones, and instead unhooked the bow from my body. I drew an arrow from the quiver secured behind my thigh, nocking it to the string.
Pathetic.
What use was an arrow compared to raw, harnessed nature? But I couldn’t. I couldn’t use it, and not just because of my promise to Anwir. If I showed the world who I truly was, then there would be no escaping my destiny. I would be shoved to the forefront, expected to take up the role I’d run from all my life, and Aliza would never be free of me. I was too selfish and broken and full of hate to stand beside someone so pure. So good. I was not worthy to stand beside such a queen.
The drift hurtled toward the city walls, which loomed out of the blanket of morning mist, growing larger with every rapid beat of my heart.
Over the roar of the wind, the frantic clangs of the warning bells were nothing but faint, shivering notes floating through the air. The guards manning the walls were flitting shadows. I adjusted my aim, lining the arrowhead up with my target’s chosen course. The string cracked across my arm guard as I let the arrow fly.
A ball of whirling flames burst into life, hurtling toward me.
On instinct, I threw myself low over Saeth’s neck, using my body weight to signal. Saeth swerved. The ground loomed at my side, waiting for my grip to fail. I tightened my knees under Saeth’s wings and seized one of the loops at the front of my saddle in my free hand, my entire body tightening in my effort to maintain my seat. Hot air whooshed past, the streaking flames lashing inches from the horse’s tucked legs and trailing feathers.
Saeth spread his wings wide, spiralling, and for a moment I was upside down, the sky below and the ground above, a manoeuvre that had once flooded me with sheer, undiluted joy. Now, there was nothing but grim resolve as the world righted itself and we resumed our course.
We were barely level when I nocked my second arrow and let it fly.
It found its target only seconds before Saeth and I sped over the wall, wards raking over us like claws. It was minor magic, complacent. Perhaps they had not anticipated an attack, or perhaps the civilians residing within the city were deemed insignificant. Unworthy of the protection that would surely be afforded to the powerful aristocrats and city leaders, dwelling deep within the centre.
I took aim again, this time narrowly missing my target, an armoured male sprinting for the wall. I glanced back, but Saeth’s speed whipped us away before I could catch more than the briefest glimpse.
We flew low, the tips of my horse’s wings skimming the upper storeys of the residential buildings. White streaks, visible briefly in the gaps between houses, told me that the rest of the drift were keeping low too, using the cityscape as coverage as we aimed for the heart of the town, and its sleeping leaders.
In my moment of distraction, a hail of dart-like thorns sprayed in my direction, hammering against the side of my helmet. I ducked, throwing my arm over my face. Sharp pain bit into my tricep as the thorns sank through my leather. I grunted, swiping them free of my flesh as Saeth sped me out of range of the earth wielder.
The sting of torn flesh faded into insignificance as I refocused, extracting another arrow from my quiver.
At a flick of the reins, Saeth banked, taking a corner with a tilt that had one wing sweeping over the cobbles. When we righted, low, golden sunlight beamed over rooftops and between structures. It glared into my vision, but though it made it difficult for me to find a target, so too did it shield me from watchful eyes.
The buildings here were taller, their facades adorned with sculptured carvings and a flora that hinted at the increasing wealth this deep into the city. I recognised these streets; much had remained unchanged in the centuries since my childhood, when many happy vacations had been spent in this realm. Now, I would paint these familiar cobbles with blood .
A dark flicker of movement caught my eye, and I turned in time to see people streaming onto a rooftop terrace slightly ahead. My next arrow was in my hand when a ripple of air blasted in my direction. I lurched sideways, throwing my weight to Saeth’s left shoulder, and he banked, but not quickly enough. The solidified air smacked into his wing, and with an explosion of feathers, we were thrown off course, into an uncontrolled spin.
My arrow fell as I lunged to grip the saddle again. The air grasping and tearing at me now was not magic, but deadly all the same. It fought to drag us down to the unyielding ground below, ground which approached in rapid, swirling glimpses as we tumbled and flipped end over end. My stomach rose to my throat.
It was instinct and training that had me seizing the reins in one hand and driving my heels into Saeth’s flanks, gathering him, attempting to harness his balance. His wings snapped wide, and our descent slowed, but not enough.
“Come on!” I roared, taking the weight from his shoulder by leaning back.
The cobbles were only feet below us when Saeth managed to level out. I loosened the reins and urged him up. Each strained beat of wings surged us higher and higher, and I took us straight up, out of range of the buildings. Only when the streets were a spiderweb below us did I loosen my breath.
That had been too close.
I twisted, peering through my visor at Saeth’s wings. A patch of feathers on the right were crumpled and sparse, those that remained sticking up at odd angles and jittering in the wind, but the wing supported us, even if we did list slightly to one side .
Saeth was unhurt, but manoeuvrability was compromised.
Now what?
The city sprawled below us. White darts streaked along the same route I’d tried to take, all battling to reach the great manse nestled in the centre. If I rejoined the fray with Saeth’s accuracy and agility compromised, we would doubtless take another hit, and we might not be lucky twice.
The foot soldiers battled on the wrong side of the walls, attempting to raise siege ladders. The drift would receive no reinforcements until the walls fell to our army, though a few riders still patrolled the walls, picking off guards as they went.
Frustration bubbled inside me, mingling with the charged hum of my power. One well-placed bolt of lightning would bring down the wall, but here I was, circling high above it all, as much use as a stray wisp of cloud during a drought.
Fuck it all. There were other ways I might be of use.
Taking care with the damaged wing, I eased Saeth into a wide, gentle arc, and fixed my sights on the distant gate.