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Chapter Fifty-One

Aurelia

V alerisse’s army arrives like floodwaters creeping over the northern slopes, a sea of black dotted with fragments of white.

Flanked by Axius and my princes, I watch them come. One of the camp servants presses a steaming mug into my hands, but the richly bitter beverage barely rouses my spirits.

All around me, thumps and clinks sound amid the numerous troops we’ve been able to assemble from all across Dariu.

The few dozen nobles who traveled alongside me have set up camp farther along the hill, wanting to leave me most closely protected by fully trained soldiers.

Several Rionian squadrons caught up with us last night in their sky-blue uniforms and have settled in at our right flank.

The mass of my army still looks so small compared to our enemy.

By the time Valerisse’s force has come to a halt a mile distant across the fields, I think it must be twice our size. And I’m not sure I’m seeing all of it or if even more soldiers remain concealed by the low hillocks behind them.

There’s been no signal to indicate that any of the disguised troops we were hoping would fall in with Valerisse’s have reached her army yet. The soldiers before me are all her loyal followers, ready to cut me down because she and her godlen claim I’m not fit to be empress.

As I stare at them, a tremor of doubt winds through my thoughts.

Am I proving them right? Am I sending thousands of the men and women I’m supposed to guide to prosperity to their deaths instead, for my own hubris?

How does this war set the empire right?

A glance at my gathered soldiers, standing in formation or stirring from their campfires and tents at the news that the enemy has arrived, sends an ache lancing through my gut.

I never wanted this. The plan I made with my parents and sister in hushed conversations in my palace back home only relied on me. I risked my life to bring down Emperor Tarquin. I let my lovers risk theirs too so we could survive Linus’s madness, and even that compromise wrenched at me.

I’m a wild princess from a backwater country most of these people have never ventured to and never will. Who in the realms am I to order them to lay down their lives so I can hold the throne?

Lorenzo notices my reaction and shoots me a quick, warm smile. Among my many guards, Kassun draws himself straighter with a nod to me as if confirming he’ll defend me to the end. All through the troops, soldiers dart gazes my way… and their expressions look brighter after.

I breathe deep against the swell of my nerves. These people want me on the throne. They believe in me and my way of ruling—one different from the imperial figures before and certainly far from anything Valerisse is offering.

They’re fighting not just for me but for themselves, for the empire they wish to live in. If I surrendered now, I might be saving them from death, but not from whatever miseries the tribune and her godlen would inflict next. I’d be letting my supporters down in a much worse way.

I know all that. I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t. It’s just harder to remember with the likely instrument of our destruction laid out in front of me.

I tap my fingers down my front, extending my prayers to all eight of the godlen I’ve appealed to over the past several weeks.

Elox and Inganne, Estera and Prospira, Creaden and Jurnus, Ardone and Kosmel, please stand with me and my people against this gravest of threats.

Guide us well and see us through. If I’m alive to do it, I’ll continue to honor you every way you deserve.

The plea feels desperate even to me. May the divinities recognize why the circumstances call for it.

From where he’s set up a temporary shrine not far away, Cleric Pierus catches my gesture. He echoes it, holding my gaze. “The gods are with you.”

Let’s hope that’s true.

Across the fields, Valerisse’s army appears to be settling in rather than preparing for an immediate attack. As evening begins to fall, fires spark amid the masses of bodies.

They’re going to take a break, eat and rest after their long trek. Why not, when they can see they have us well out-numbered?

They can’t imagine we would dare to force the confrontation when it’d put us at the disadvantage of giving up the slightly higher ground as well.

One figure on horseback breaks away from the sea of uniforms. It streaks across the fields toward us, waving a white flag of parlay.

My throat tight, I go forward with my closest associates and my guards to meet the messenger.

The rider draws to a halt several feet away from me where I stop at the base of the hill.

His eyes glint beneath his helm in the waning light.

“Princess Aurelia of Accasy, Tribune Valerisse offers one more opportunity for surrender. Have your people lay down their arms, and no blood needs to be shed here.”

That’s it. No real terms to negotiate, just, “Give up or you’ll be slaughtered.”

Never mind that I’d imagine Valerisse will slit my throat even if I fold now, but it’s possible she’ll simply exile me to Accasy as if I was never much of a threat to begin with.

My resolve has hardened into an impenetrable shell around the soft heart she’d mock.

My reply comes firm and steady. “I am Your Imperial Highness Empress Aurelia as ordained by the gods, and I will not bow to a traitor. If she means to defy divine will, I must stand against her for the empire’s sake. ”

The soldier doesn’t appear ruffled by my reminder of the treason he’s a party to. He tips his head. “So be it.”

Then he rides off without another word.

As we stride back up the hill, Axius falls in next to me. “They’ll most likely attack at first light in the morning—once they’re rested but hoping to catch us before we’re quite roused. We should sleep in shifts and have everyone alert well before dawn.”

I nod, though the squirming of tension in my stomach suggests I’m not likely to get much sleep at all. “Pass on the orders.”

By my tent, the same dun canvas as the others so it doesn’t stand out as a target, I check the jugs that hold my two prepared concoctions and the bundled ingredients in case I need to invent another.

Three cauldrons are already filled with water, ready to be set to a boil as soon as I might need to brew something new.

My pulse thumps at a shaky rhythm, spiked with adrenaline. I lie down on my sleeping pallet and close my eyes, but my thoughts spin on in the darkness.

When the call goes up throughout camp for everyone to ready themselves, I can’t remember whether I ever drifted off. The pounding of my heart draws me to my feet and out into last dregs of the night.

Bastien appears near my tent, his auburn hair turned starker red by the wavering firelight. He has his bow slung over his shoulder alongside a quiver of arrows, but that’s not the main way he’ll be fighting today.

I tap the top of the larger jug. “As soon as they start moving, we’ll need the rain.”

His face tenses in momentary concentration. “There’s a damp patch of cloud not too far to the west. I can bring it here in a matter of minutes. I’ll start nudging it this way so it’s even closer.”

Marc steps up at my other side, his gaze on the distant slopes. “I’ve tried to sense their greatest weakness, but at the moment it’s nothing we could exploit without leaving ourselves open far more.”

I touch his arm. “We expected that. Don’t strain your gift—try again if it looks like the situation may have shifted enough to allow better possibilities.”

His mouth twists. “I’ve never wished more that I made a greater sacrifice. If my gift could?—”

His words are cut off by a louder holler. “They’re coming!”

Goosebumps dapple my arms. I spin toward the enemy encampment, but there still isn’t even a faint haze of dawn touching the sky. I can’t see anything other than the tiny flares of campfires and torches.

They’re striking out even earlier than Axius predicted. Maybe Valerisse has soldiers with gifts for helping their colleagues navigate the darkness.

All across our camp, my soldiers scramble with even greater urgency, tossing on helms and brandishing their weapons. The officers bark orders to assemble them into their formations.

I wrench the cork out of the jug and glance at Bastien. “As soon as you can.”

He signals his agreement, his face turned sallow and his eyes distant as he urges the wind against those far-off clouds.

I adjust the reinforced vest I’m wearing beneath my simple dress—a birthday gift from Raul that’s protected me before—and strap my sword belt around my waist. The hasty thudding of soldiers’ feet all around me echoes my racing pulse.

Bending, I quickly light the camp stoves beneath my waiting cauldrons. The more prepared I am, the more likely we’ll make it through this onslaught.

Axius calls for us to douse the larger campfires—to lessen what light we’re giving the enemy, I presume. But even as the flames flicker out with hisses of water, a few gray smudges of daylight creep up from the horizon.

Valerisse’s force has already crossed half the distance between our camps. If we hadn’t risen early in anticipation of a dawn strike, her soldiers would have caught us still scrambling.

As it is, the dark clouds to the west roll in much slower than my straining nerves can take comfort in. I bite back the urge to tell Bastien to work faster.

He can see the coming threat as well as I can. The rain won’t do anything for us if he’s too drained to carry out the rest of the plan.

Our archers shoot a flurry of arrows toward the approaching army, but most rattle against the shields the soldiers raise. The officers by our catapults yell for the larger projectiles to be launched.

One boulder smashes into the middle of the enemy ranks, toppling at least a few of our opponents. Another whips into their midst, and another—those stopped and broken into dust by someone’s gift as they descend.