Shalador's Lady

CHAPTER 45

There was nothing Theran could do. The more he tried to hold on to the land his family had guarded and cherished for so long, the more of it fell away.

Two weeks after the Heartsblood River Province deserted Dena Nehele and gave itself to Cassidy, one of the northern Provinces that bordered the Tamanara Mountains became part of Shalador Nehele. A week after that, the other Province that bordered the mountains turned away from its heritage.

Only four Provinces left. A land that had held for centuries had been reduced to a third of its size within the space of a couple of months. Kermilla was almost hysterical in her demands that he do something, and he tried. But nothing worked.

Nothing.

When the news about the second mountain Province reached him, he didn’t summon the Warlord Princes living in the four remaining Provinces.

This time, they summoned him.

They met in an old barn next to an abandoned farmhouse. A familiar kind of gathering place, Theran thought as he slipped inside. During the years when these men had fought against the twisted Queens, they couldn’t gather at an inn without coming to the attention of the Queens’ guards and they wouldn’t gather at anyone’s home and put that man’s family at risk.

He knew their names, but it was understood that no names were spoken at this kind of meeting. Foolish, really, when there were so few of them left they all knew one another, but that caution had been too well trained into them.

“Prince.” A Purple Dusk Warlord Prince stepped forward. “I’ve been asked to be the voice of my Brothers.”

Theran tipped his head to acknowledge the man—and to acknowledge that these men had gathered for a discussion at least once without him. “I’m listening.”

“The day after I reached my majority and my training was declared complete, I walked onto my first killing field. I’ve been fighting for Dena Nehele in one way or another ever since. I guess that’s true for all of us here.”

The other twenty-six Warlord Princes nodded.

Only twenty-eight of us to guard four Provinces, Theran thought. How in the name of Hell are we going to do that?

“I’ve fought for Dena Nehele,” the Warlord Prince said. “My father and my grandfather and his father before him all fought and bled and died for Dena Nehele. And as much as we respect Ranon and Jared Blaed, we want to live in Dena Nehele. The Queens in our Provinces feel the same. We don’t want Dena Nehele to become nothing more than a memory.”

Thank the Darkness. “Then come back to Grayhaven with me. Meet with Lady Kermilla. Help me form a court so that—”

“No.” The Warlord Prince took a step back. “We’ll protect Dena Nehele. We’ll defend the Blood against the landens, and we’ll fight to keep our Provinces safe from outside attack. But none of us will serve Kermilla.”

Theran’s temper flared hot. “You’ve never given her a chance. She’s young, and she doesn’t have as much experience as she thinks she has, but she’s not an evil woman or a bad Queen. Befriending Correne was a mistake, and I know the girl’s influence on Kermilla’s behavior left a bad taste in a few men’s mouths, but—”

“Theran.”

The breach of etiquette shocked him cold.

“We’ve heard words like this before, Theran. Heard them from good men who couldn’t see the blood on their Queens’ hands or tried to justify brutality because they couldn’t live with the truth.”

Theran said nothing.

“We won’t serve her, and we won’t stand by and let her become Queen of what is left of our land. We serve Dena Nehele, and we’re willing to let the Grayhaven line stand as the ruler. But not her. Never her. If we have to meet you on a killing field and end the Grayhaven line to make sure she doesn’t become Queen, then that is what we will do.”

He didn’t want to believe the words, but he couldn’t doubt what he saw in their eyes. If he helped Kermilla set up a court, they would kill him—and then they would kill her.

“She gave up everything to stay here and be our Queen,” he said, desperate to make them understand.

“I doubt she gave up anything, but you believe what you choose. It’s clear enough she’s your Queen; that doesn’t make her ours.” The Warlord Prince sighed. “Two weeks, Prince. She’s safe from us for two more weeks. After that, we’ll come hunting.”

They flowed around him, predators heading back to the territories they claimed as their own.

Theran stood there, alone, long after the last man had caught the Winds.

Where was the promise of a new life, a better life? Where was the hope? There had been hope a year ago, hadn’t there? Gone now. All gone. He didn’t know how to fix it, any of it.

And he didn’t know what he was going to say to Kermilla.