Page 21

Those record books were still buried in the ruins of Gror Grar, and between the Tarenhieli-Escarlish army still camped on the plateau and Laesornysh’s magic still lingering in the stones as if seared into them, it would be a long time before the records could be retrieved.

The trolls who had tried to use their magic to clear the rubble from the road through the mountains reported that Laesornysh’s magic burned too painfully for them to do anything.

How was he going to rule his kingdom when he wasn’t even sure how to build his marriage? For the past two days, Princess Melantha had been hard and distant. When he suggested she tour Khagniorth or oversee the distribution of supplies in the stronghold’s kitchen, she did it without a complaint.

He almost wished she would complain. That she would unleash the fire he saw burning in her eyes behind the icy mask. He had seen glimpses of that Princess Melantha when she had defended her brother Laesornysh there in the dungeon. Rharreth liked that Melantha, though he was not sure how to tell her that. Not when she was giving him this hard, serene mask from dawn until dusk.

A knock came on the door, then the stone slab opened. Zavni strolled inside, his large sword at his side, while Drurvas, the tallest of their shield band, had to duck as he sauntered inside. His large ax rested against his back.

“What is the report?” Rharreth focused on Zavni first.

“The invaders are in the process of pulling out. Their entire army should be gone from our soil by tomorrow evening.” Zavni’s mouth twisted, as if it was a struggle to stand by and allow the Tarenhieli-Escarlish army to leave unhindered. “They turned over what food supplies they no longer need, now that they are returning home.”

“Good.” As much as it grated on Rharreth to accept anything from Escarland and Tarenhiel, the supplies were a final gift as part of the treaty that would, hopefully, see Rharreth’s people through until the first trade shipment of grain and produce arrived from Escarland. Rharreth’s people would starve, otherwise. “See to it that the supplies are properly distributed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Zavni grinned and bowed.

Rharreth sighed and resisted the urge to shake his head. That title would not be official for a few more days. He had decided to wait on his and Melantha’s coronation until the invading armies were gone from his kingdom.

It had been one thing to allow the elves and humans to witness the wedding. Quite another to have them involve themselves in something like the coronation. Rharreth would have a hard enough time dealing with the rumors that he was just a puppet king put there by the elves.

But Zavni seemed to get great pleasure out of irritating Rharreth by using the title.

“Drurvas, were all their weapons returned to them as specified in the treaty?” Rharreth had inspected the return himself yesterday, but he wanted confirmation.

Drurvas crossed his arms and nodded, his smirk twitching into something sour at the corners. “Of course, though I don’t like just handing them over. We got those weapons fair and square. It isn’t our fault that they were handed to us by traitors in Escarland. Nor does it look good, Rharreth, just rolling over to all of Escarland’s demands like that. There is already talk about you being a weak king.”

“I know.” Rharreth scrubbed his face with a hand, glaring down at the pile of paperwork spread before him.

While he hadn’t liked how his father and brother had run Kostaria, he had never truly wanted the responsibility of the crown to rest on his head. No matter what he did, there were those who would question his strength and honor.

He braced himself against the desk. “We desperately need peace with Escarland and Tarenhiel, little as our warrior families want to acknowledge it. Our people are starving. Without food from Escarland, thousands will starve this winter. Better we make peace now while we have some position of strength than go begging to them in the spring after winter has broken our people.”

“We have had other hard winters in the past few years that we survived without Escarland’s help.” Drurvas shrugged, his fingers flexing as if he wanted to draw his ax and start the war with Tarenhiel all by himself.

Thousands had died in those winters too, even more than had died in the war at the border. But Charvod hadn’t cared how many died. He had just given more speeches about how it was an honor to die for Kostaria until the entire kingdom bought into the twisted version of honor he and their father had believed.

But Rharreth had to believe that it was just as honorable to live for Kostaria as it was to die. That peace could be as honorable as war.

Drurvas and Zavni were still standing there, waiting for his answer. Rharreth faced his shield brothers. “Each of those winters weakened us. How else could Escarland and Tarenhiel defeat us in a mere week on our own home ground when they didn’t even have the aid of their greatest warrior until the final battle?”

“We didn’t have the aid of our greatest warrior until that battle either.” Zavni raised his eyebrows as he gestured toward Rharreth. “In choosing not to kill Laesornysh outright, Charvod sidelined you, his best warrior, to guard the elf.”

Beside Zavni, Drurvas’s smirk dropped for just a moment before it returned in full force. While Rharreth was the strongest with magic in all of Kostaria, Drurvas was one of the best—if not the best—at hand-to-hand combat.

“Still, my point remains. We need time—and food—to rebuild our strength. Tarenhiel has gained strength through its close alliance with Escarland. Perhaps we can gain the same.” Rharreth stood and met first Drurvas’s gaze, then Zavni’s. “That is why I handed over the weapons and married the elf princess. I firmly believe this is best for Kostaria, and I need my shield band to stand by me. Eventually, Kostaria will improve, and everyone will see that this was the right plan.”

“The shield band stands by you.” Zavni rested his hand on his sword’s hilt.

“It is our duty and our honor.” Drurvas reached over his shoulder to pat the head of his ax. “We are willing to do what it takes for Kostaria.”

Rharreth could not ask for a better shield band. With them at his back, he might survive long enough to save Kostaria.