Page 114 of War

“Has she made your mind weak, horseman?” At this point, the phobos rider just seems to be openly baiting War, which is never a good idea when dealing with a dude who happens to relish bloodshed.

The horseman takes an ominous step forward, and the crowd ripples with unease. He takes another and another, descending down his dais and entering the clearing.

He strides over to the man until he looms over his rider.

It happens so fast I barely have time to register. War pulls out a dagger from his hip and shoves it through the soldier’s heart. The rider’s lips part, and his eyes are just as wide as the phobos rider I killed earlier, like death comes as a surprise to him.

War withdraws his blade, and blood cascades out of the open wound.

The phobos rider chokes a little, his gaze swinging around at all the quiet people. He sways for a moment, then falls to the ground, dead.

The phobos rider’sblood hasn’t cooled before War muscles his way between the soldiers and scoops me up.

He’s quiet as he carries me back to his tent. I don’t bother telling him I can walk. I’m not too interested in opposing him right now, when he’s defied his own conventions twice in one day for me.

Behind us, the crowd is quiet, but once we’re well out of eyesight, I hear the noise ratchet up again, and then, all at once, the crowd seems to roar—undoubtedly as a result of the rest of the traitors’ executions.

I close my eyes against the thought of all those people I stood with minutes ago. They dared to stop the army, and they died for it.

The horseman carries me into his tent. It’s only once we’re inside that he sets me down.

He pulls out one of his blades and saws through my bindings, freeing my wrists before tossing aside the thick rope.

“War—” I begin.

“Don’t.”

One look at his expression, and it’s clear he isn’t fucking around.

Agitatedly he begins to remove the rest of his weapons.

“God didn’t send me a wife,” he says under his breath. “He sent me my reckoning.”

I stand there, rubbing my wrists, unsure where my feelings lie. On the one hand, I saw so much gruesome death today—and this man is responsible for it all. On the other hand, he saved a child, then spared me. I’m disgusted by his world, but I’m also strangely indebted to him.

“You shouldn’t be attacking my army,” he says roughly.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so!” he bellows. War turns on me now, his face enflamed in anger. “I saved a life for you—I went against my very nature to do so—and you thank me bykillingmy men in return?”

“That man was going to kill me!”

His face sharpens. “Don’t lie and pretend it was just one man who you killed.”

“Why does it suddenly matter?” I say, my own voice heating. “You gave me the bow and arrow knowing full well what I intended to do with it.”

“You’ve created dissention in my ranks,” he says.

I undoubtedly have. And people will hate us both for it.

“There’s already dissention in your ranks, or have you forgotten that you destroyed all these people’s cities and killed their families before you took them prisoner?”

A muscle in his jaw jumps.

War steps up to me, coming in so close our chests touch. “I have been lenient with you. I won’t make that mistake again.”

My heart drops at that. It was his leniency that spared Mamoon. That’s the one part of him Idon’twant changing.