An Oath of Brothers

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Soku, commander of Volusia’s armies, could not believe the twists and turns that fate had taken. But a moon ago, he had been in command of only a few thousand soldiers, guarding the well-fortified city of Volusia, with little for him to do. It was a steady and safe position that had not changed much ever since even the time of her mother.

How much, and how quickly, things changed. Now, since Volusia’s capture of Maltolis, her gaining of two hundred thousand soldiers, the men under his command had grown far beyond what he could have expected. Their missions had grown increasingly bold, their conquests increasingly greater. At every turn Volusia had proven him wrong, had surprised him, had shown more cunning and ruthlessness than any general he had ever known.

And yet, he also was not pleased with the current state of affairs. Volusia was too unpredictable, too reckless, too fearless; he did not know what she would do moment to moment, and he did not like to take orders from people he did not understand. She had won thus far, and yet it may have all been by chance.

Most dangerous of all, she believed too much in herself, was too drunk with her own power. At first he had thought that her claiming herself to be a goddess was merely a plot, a cunning ploy to keep power over the masses. He had admired it.

Yet now, the more time he spent with her, the more he came to see that she really believed it. She really considered herself a goddess. She was growing dangerously out of touch with reality each day.

And now it had come to this: a pact with the Voks, the darkest, nastiest, least trustworthy race of all. It had been, in his view, a terrible and fateful choice. She had gone from being megalomaniacal to being delusional: she really believed that she and her two hundred thousand men could capture the capital and conquer the Empire’s millions.

Soku knew it was only a matter of time until her downfall—and he did not plan on being on the wrong side of it.

“And which path do you advise?” Volusia asked him.

Soku snapped out of it, looked up and saw Volusia staring back at him. He stood there with her large entourage of men around her, Aksan, her personal assassin, and most unnerving, Koolian, her sorcerer, who gaped back at her with his wart-lined face and glowing green eyes. She was also joined by her other commanding generals, all of them going around and around, as they had been for hours, debating the best strategy.

Soku looked down at the crude drawings etched into the desert floor at their feet, three diverging paths, each leading to three different circles, each representing a different Empire division. They’d all been debating which one to attack first. Soku knew that the best approach would be to attack the circle to the far right, the Empire’s second flank. That path led over mountains, would give them the high ground, and give them the advantage of surprise. If they took that route, they might even gain enough momentum to continue on to the capital.

But Soku did not want Volusia to win. He did not want to advise her in her best interests; he wanted this war over. He wanted her out of power. And he wanted power for himself.

Volusia did not know it yet, but Soku had already struck a deal with the Empire. He had sold her out, and he would be given power in her place. He had coordinated exactly where their armies would meet, had coordinated the truce procession that would lead to her death. All he had to do now was to sell her on it—and his path to victory would be complete. She had always trusted him; that had always been her weak point. Just like her mother before her. Volusia would be ambushed, surrounded, and vanquished, and he would be given the position of command of the Empire’s millions.

Soku cleared his throat and put on his most earnest expression.

“Goddess,” he said. “If you wish to win, there is but one path to take. Straight down the middle,” he said, outlining the path in the dirt with a stick as he spoke. “You must strike approach the capitol unashamedly, in the Valley of Skulls.”

“A foolish idea!” Aksan said.

“Suicide!” a general added. “No one else advises such counsel. It is the most obvious route.”

“Let him speak!” Volusia said, authority in her voice.

The others fell silent as she turned to him.

“Why do you counsel this, Soku?” she asked.

“Because it is the path the Empire would least expect,” he lied. “They have greater numbers, and they would never expect us to attack them head on. They will put all their strength on their flanks. You will catch them unaware, and divide their flanks. More importantly, if you approach their city head-on, they will see you coming. They will send messengers. They will send offers for a truce. You must give them a chance for a truce, Goddess. After all, there remains now no Supreme Commander of the Empire. They need a commander. They might voluntarily choose one in you. Why fight for a victory when one might be handed to you?”

Soku was impressed with his performance; he’d said it with such authority, he nearly believed it himself.

“A reckless proposition,” another general countered. “The Valley of Skulls is where the Empire is strongest. It is the very front door of the capital. It would leave us vulnerable to ambush. And the Empire will never negotiate a truce.”

“All the more reason the Empire would not expect it,” Soku replied. “And all the more reason they might offer it. When you approach from a position of strength, Goddess, they will be more inclined to embrace you as their ruler.”

She met his eyes, and she stared at him long and hard, as if gauging him; he felt his palms sweating, wondering if she was seeing through his charade. If she knew he was lying, he knew she would have him executed on the spot.

He stood there, his heart pounding in the thick silence, waiting.

Finally, Volusia nodded, and he could see in her eyes that she trusted him completely.

“It is a bold plan, Commander Soku,” she said. “And I admire courage. I will follow it. Prepare the troops.”

She turned to go and as one all her advisors bowed.

Soku, elated, turned to leave and as he did, he felt a cold hand on his shoulder.

He turned to see Volusia standing there, staring back at him, her eyes glistening as if filled with fire.

“Deliver me victory, Commander,” she said. “I trust in victory. And I do not forgive defeat.”

Volusia turned and walked away, and as he stood there, watching her go, he felt a pit in his stomach. She felt all powerful, untouchable.

Would he really be able to topple her?