Aerity stood in a small room of a house in the valley of Craw Coorie, peering down at a map of Lochlanach with Harrison and two senior officers. They had gone over every detail of the plan with her. Enticing Kalor’s troops into the narrow land between the rivers was ideal because it would even their chances by thinning the Kalorian troops and not allowing them to outnumber the allies. And if the Zorfinans could sneak attack from the northern end of the waterways, it would trap the enemy. They would never make it near Craw Coorie, but a plan was in place to move the queen, princess, and lady farther north if the fighting moved farther than expected.
“What if they do not leave royal lands to attack?” Aerity asked.
Harrison sighed. “Then we will have to come up with a new plan to attack directly.”
“Your Majesty,” said the senior officer, “once we are able to storm the castle, we recommend taking Prince Vito captive so that after the battle is over there can be a public execution.”
The room was quiet as the men watched for her reaction. Aerity thought about it. A public execution would show her strength as a ruler and send a message that she did not take enemies of her kingdom lightly. But this was Prince Vito they were talking about. She shook her head.
“I cannot take the chance of his escaping. He is not to be underestimated. My orders are to kill him on sight, any way possible. Same goes for Rozaria Rocato.”
The officer gave a nod. “Do we have your permission to exhibit their bodies for the public to see?”
Her stomach turned. “Just this once, and not for an extended period. I will not make a habit of morbid displays of power.”
Voices outside made Harrison go to the window. “Townspeople are arriving from Dovedell and bordering villages. We’re told there will be Lochlan Lashed among them—people from your camps who are willing to lay hands on the enemy, and heal our men who are injured along the way.”
“I wish to address them,” Aerity said. “Gather everyone in the town center.”
The officers shared a glance before agreeing. She knew they wanted to keep her hidden and as far as possible from all people and the battle, but Aerity hated letting everyone fight while she sat back, comfortable and safe. All she had to offer them were her words, and so she would give them.
Each and every life entering the battle weighed on Aerity. She couldn’t believe King Gavriil had sent his son—granted, it was his second son, and his soldiers had insisted he not be allowed on the front lines. In fact, his battalion remained in Craw Coorie as the last line of defense. The insolent look on Prince Hanriil’s face when he’d been overruled had so reminded her of Vixie. She’d had to hold back her amusement.
Once the people were all ushered into the town square, Aerity was led to the center, where she climbed a raised platform used for town meetings. As soon as she appeared, the crowd broke into a cheer that made her cheeks warm and her chest tighten. She looked out upon regular townsmen and townswomen who stood alongside Lochlan soldiers and Torestan soldiers. It was a beautiful yet saddening sight. She let her voice rise into the wintry air.
“Good people of Lochlanach and Toresta! My heart aches to see you, and longs for better circumstances for our gathering. Among you there are farmers and fishermen, blacksmiths and bakers, Lashed and Unlashed, fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. I extend my fondest gratitude to each one of you for being here, willing to fight for our way of life—a life I hope to enrich during my rule—a life that will surely see further strife and wickedness if we do not take back what is ours.
“The time to rely on one another is now. Look around at those who stand beside you. Today I lift the laws against magic, for all of your benefit. Today, the Lashed who stand at your side will be there to heal you if you fall. You need not fear one another. I promise that when this battle is over, and victory is ours, I will spend my life working to repair a century’s worth of injustice done against each one of you, who has suffered knowingly or not, by what you have been denied.
“The enemy claims to be a friend of the Lashed, but he is a friend of no one. I have seen firsthand that the ruler of Kalor seeks power through fear and hate. He wishes to use magic for his own benefit, not for the good of the people, and I will not stand for it! This is an enemy who does not value life and will kill any who stand in the way of his domination over all Eurona. I pray to the seas that justice is swift and we can begin our lives anew very soon. To each of you, I bestow my heartfelt gratitude for your courage and valor. The seas be with you.”
A murmur of “Also with you” rose up from the crowd, and all were respectfully quiet as Aerity was escorted away.
Two Lochlan women and a Lochlan man, wearing rags that were splattered with blood, ran as quickly as they could toward the royal gate. Each had fear in their hearts for what they were about to do, but that fear was overridden by their desire to help Queen Aerity in any way they could.
The sky was darkening as the sun set. Their panting breaths left trails of steam in their wake. The man suddenly skidded to a halt and held out his arms to stop the women. Their eyes followed his up to the top of the stone wall.
Their hands went up, trembling in the air, at the sight of Kalorian soldiers lining the wall, arrows pointed directly at them. The Lochlan man stepped forward and fell to his knees, his arms still up.
“P-please. We are under attack. They are killing all the Lashed!”
“My son!” wept one of the women, clutching her chest.
The Kalorians peered around at the empty fields and hills behind them, and then murmured to one another. One of them held a palm up to them, as if telling them to wait. Both women were crying in earnest, their fear apparent.
Moments later the gates opened just enough to show a Kalorian lord with a severe, long face. He stared at them, a lip curled in repulsion at their appearance, and then his eyes narrowed at the sight of the man’s hands.
“Come closer . . . now stop. Hold up your hands.”
Three pairs of dirty, shaking hands came slowly up for the man to see the lines on their nails.
“Ah.” He relaxed a small fraction. “Lochlan Lashed. Why have you come?”
“Please, sir,” said the man. “We heard you have many Lashed among you, that you’re a friend of the magical folk, that you’re going to change the laws around here.” The man swallowed hard, still trying to catch his breath. The Kalorian said nothing, so the Lochlan kept going. “They want you gone—”
“Who?”
“The townspeople in the north. They want to stop all our Lashed from joining you. They’ve got our Lashed ones locked up in the town hall at Craw Coorie and they’re planning to burn it tonight! They want to wage a battle to root you out.”
“My son is in there!” one of the women cried. She clasped her hands together, begging. “Please save them—I’ll do anything! I will be at your service for life.”
The Kalorian’s lips pursed into a tight bud of ire. “How many Lashed?”
“More than fifty,” said the quietest woman.
“And townsmen?”
The three of them looked at one another and the man spoke. “Hundreds. And more are coming from nearby villages, dragging their Lashed as well. They’re trying to make their own army. This has been boiling since the new queen opened the Lashed camps.”
At this, the man laughed drily. “It was only a matter of time. We will squash this uprising like a fat berry and leave its rotting flesh for all to see.”
“And the Lashed?” the woman asked desperately. “Can you save them?”
“Come through the gate and stand against the wall. If you move, you will be shot. I will fetch our general and you will tell him exactly where this town is located.”
“Bless you, sir!” said the women, sending their praises as the three of them rushed to the wall, still lined with Kalorian soldiers watching the spectacle with interest.
“Long live Prince Vito!” shouted the Lochlan man. The three of them clung together by the wall, rejoicing.
The sun had fully set, sending an ominous quiet over the town of Craw Coorie. Three messengers had been sent to start the war. She prayed Vito would take the bait. It was unnerving to know there were hundreds of soldiers and townspeople in her midst, ready to fight, all hidden within the town, and yet not a single sound could be heard. Aerity sat in a complete stranger’s cozy main room with Vixie, Wyneth, Paxton, Mrs. Rathbrook, and a hulking Furball.
Aerity chewed her thumbnail as her mind turned over scenario after scenario. What if Vito didn’t believe the three Lashed? What if he simply didn’t care that Lochlan Lashed were supposedly being killed? What if he was too busy searching for Aerity inside the castle and refused to have his men leave royal lands until they found her? What if they’d found the hidden passageways?
“Aer, you’re breathing funny again,” Vixie said gently.
Aerity sat up and took a deep breath. She wanted this war to be over with. She listened so hard that the quiet actually thrummed deep in her ears. “It’s killing me not to know how much longer we’ve got, or if they’re even planning to attack.” She stood and went to the window where Paxton was watching through a crack in the shutters with his arms crossed. Together, they did the only thing they could do. Wait.