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Five

The grief cries

T horn helps me walk out of the tent, and when I do, the heat hits and instantly makes me groan. Grinding my teeth, I walk slowly past the tents, and once we break out into the clearing where the battle took place, I freeze.

There are so many bodies.

The people left behind limp around, their arms, legs, and torsos covered in bandages. Their eyes are wide and grief-filled as they move corpses and dig graves. Sweat pours off them from the sun pounding down on us. The scent of death and blood fills the air, almost making me gag.

So much fucking death.

Each body I see weighs me down further. They died for me, for us, The North. But I led them into it. I will never wash my hands free of that blood, and I refuse to let them die in vain or go without respect. We will bury them all. I will remember every single fucking face and name.

I will learn who sacrificed their lives for us.

Who died for us.

A murmur goes up, and they all turn, some shielding their eyes as they look up at me.

It’s silent for a moment, and I feel the heaviness of their stares and judgement, making me stand taller and pull away from Thorn.

I am a leader, I am a fucking queen. They are looking at me for leadership in their grief.

But then, suddenly, a cheer goes up, causing me to blink in shock.

They chant my name, pumping their fists into the air. All clans join in, mixed together as one. “Champion! Berserker Queen! ”

I can’t do anything but gape as I feel my men spread out behind me. Why are they cheering? “Look at your people, Angel.”

“ Mi Alma , you gave them a reason to fight and you won. You did what no other could do. Look at your people, because they are looking to you now more than ever…but we are here. Remember, you don’t need to be strong with us,” Maxen murmurs, and I turn my head to see him next to me.

He offers me his hand, and I gladly take it, accepting his strength.

He’s right.

We won, but that was only the beginning. The rest is up to us now, and they are waiting to see how I will respond. I refuse to ignore our dead, however, since this isn’t a case of you lose some, you win some. These people lived and they died, they deserve respect. They deserve grief.

They had lovers. Family. Children.

Whole lives were snuffed away. Now isn’t a time for celebration, so I lift my hand. They slowly grow quiet, their expectant eyes on me. I search the gathered people, noting they are looking for the same—the right to grieve.

“I’ve never been good with words, but I want you to know how fucking grateful I am for all of you.

For continuing on, even injured and broken.

We won the war, The North is ours.” I shake my head.

“But now isn’t the time to celebrate, that will come.

Now is the time to bury our dead and mourn the loss of life.

We all knew it was a possibility we would die today, but that doesn’t fucking make their loss any easier.

I see them, the men and women who died for me…

No, not me. Us. For The North, for our freedom.

Today, we bury them and fill the sands with the songs of their lives and sacrifice, and tomorrow—tomorrow we celebrate and plan our future, but today?

Today, we mourn.” I look to Dray. “Shovel.”

He nods and grabs one from a passerby before handing it to me, his fingers stroking along mine.

“My queen,” he murmurs respectfully, which is odd for Dray, but then I realise he’s a leader.

His people lie dead down there, and there’s one thing I know for certain about Dray—he might be crazy, he might be rough and insane, but he loves his people.

He is grieving, he just doesn’t know how.

He’s never been allowed that luxury, none of us have.

It is deemed a weakness, but caring for others so much that you embrace your pain and honour their memory when they are gone isn’t a weakness.

It’s the ultimate strength, because even though you knew they could hurt you, you loved them anyway.

I turn back to the onlookers, somber and grieving now that they know it is okay.

“We bury our dead. We don’t leave them like The Cities does!

We bury them, and we mourn! You have every right to be mad, to be fucking angry and sad.

I wish I could change our people lying out on the sand, but I can’t.

I will, however, feel this with you. Your pain, our pain.

“This might be our beginning, but it’s their end, and without them, we wouldn’t have this chance. Let’s never fucking forget that!” I lower my head and press my fist to my chest.

When I peek up, everyone is doing the same, paying our respects to the fallen.

After a minute or two, I lift my head and slowly start towards the closest body.

Each step sparks agony through my body, and it fills me like fire, but the pain keeps me on my feet, even as my head spins and sweat covers me for a different reason.

I refuse to be weak right now, I refuse to lie in a tent and lick my wounds while my people are out here.

A queen has many responsibilities, but I won’t be one ruling from afar. Leading is about sacrifice, it is about pain, and even when it seems dark, you keep going, because if you don’t, they won’t.

A great queen knows how to lead, a great queen knows when to surrender.

I am not a great queen, I’m a fucking excellent queen, and we will never surrender. We will never stop. We are the fucking champions of The Wastes, and even as blood covers us and our dead lie scattered between us, we know.

This is the start of the rest of our lives.

The sand crunches under my boots, and I feel blood dripping slowly from my wound, but I ignore it.

I stop above the body of a young woman. I didn’t know her, but she was beautiful and strong.

Her body was a weapon. Her eyes are open and unseeing, blood covers her, and her stomach is ripped open.

Her skin is pale and flies hover around her.

Leaning down, I close her eyes and bow my head.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” I murmur before standing. I stumble slightly before I find my balance, the weakness threatening to pull me under.

Pressing the shovel into the ground, I feel my arm protest, probably from the arrow, so I have to use my boot and dig it in. I groan when I throw the sand away, and I feel more blood running from my wounds, but it only makes me dig faster, anger filling me.

I can feel my men wanting to protest, but they know better, so instead, they grab a shovel and help. I hunch my shoulders as I dig, tears blurring my eyes that I will never let fall.

So much death. Everywhere I look, blood is baked into the sand. This place will forever be touched by it. I can’t think about the victory or the future right now, all I can think about is honouring those who gave their lives .

I bury her and move onto the next, thanking them again before burying them. Each cold, empty face fills my head. They are dead on my orders. I want to cry and scream, but eyes are still on me.

They died for us, and I refuse to dishonour that with my own issues, so I keep digging, pouring all of my emotions into the task. Looking around after I finish burying an older Berserker, I spot Nan attempting to dig a few feet away, so I head over, wincing when I see Reeves on the ground.

His eyes are closed, there’s a slash mark across his mottled face, and his chest has a huge, gaping hole in it, coated in blood and displaying bone as flies settle into the wound. I look to Nan then. She is staring at the ground and has stopped digging.

She loved this man, I know that, but Nan is like me. Words won’t help her, not yet, so I start digging, working side by side with her, and when it’s deep and wide enough, I step back to her side and stare down at him.

“He was a good man,” I murmur.

“He wa a fookin’ drunk and a bastard,” she snaps, then laughs. “But a good fookin’ man, girlie. He would be glad ta ave die in battle.” She kneels, and I kneel at his head, both of us lifting with a grunt and managing to move him into the hole with great effort.

Nan looks worse for wear too, her grey hair wild, her face covered in sand and blood, and her cardigan is gone, as are her pearls. She looks like a fucking badass, a warrior. She kneels at the edge of the grave, and I kneel next to her as we stare down at him.

With him gone, there is a void in place for his people, but none of that matters right now.

She reaches over and clasps my hands. “I loved him, girlie. I didn’t tell him enough.”

“He knew,” I assure her.

She laughs. “Fookin’ cocky bastard did.” She looks up at me then, tears swimming in her eyes. “When I die, girlie, bury me next to him, let us be together in tha next life like we could never in this un, you hear me?”

“Nan—” I start, but her eyes narrow.

“You fookin’ promise me, right here!” she demands.

I swallow and smile. “I promise, you old bitch.”

She grins then. “Fookin’ respect ya elders.”

“Sure thing, old lady.”

She reaches over and smacks me, her eyes running down my body. “Ya okay?”

I hold my chest in mock shock. “Oh my God, is that…concern I hear? I knew you loved me,” I tease.

“Fookin’ dick,” she snaps as she stands, but her hand reaches down and she helps me up. “Just wanted ta make sure you weren’t going to keel over, ya insane man would murder me.” We both turn to see Dray not two feet away, his eyes locked on me, his hands covered in blood, just staring.

Okay…

“He’s seriously fookin’ nuts, that one,” she murmurs, making me smile widely.

“He really fucking is,” I say almost dreamily. “I heard he went insane when I died.”

“Insane? Girlie, I thought the fookin’ wrath of hell had come to earth again. One moment, he was just a bloody man, then the next, he was a goddamn monster. Remind me to never piss him off again, I know why they follow him nah.” She snorts.

“Liar, you will still piss him off just for fun.”

She winks at me. “And you don’t?”

“Ah, but the difference is it leads to orgasms for me, for you it usually leads him to nearly murder you.”

“Which ain’t different from ya sex from what I’ve heard.” She snorts. I know she is stalling covering Reeves, but I let her, knowing she needs this lightness in the face of such darkness and death.

Sometimes, you just need someone by your side when life gets hard to share a smile with, to hold your hand. Nothing they say or do can make it easier, but being there for you? It helps.

“I’m tired,” I admit to her, “of burying my friends.”

“I know, girlie. Ya lost so much, but look where you are and what you have done. The time for death is past, now you decide the future. Ya won’t ever forget them, but it will get easier every day, and one day, tha will be stories and songs of the people who helped save The North.”

“Goddamn, you old bitch, why you gotta be so smart?” I grouse, even as I clear my throat. “Go back to being a cranky old cunt, suits you more.”

“Let’s cover the old bastard. He would love this, two women staring at him, tha pig.”

I laugh and help her bury him, patting the sand down and watching as Nan places her pearls across the top. I blink, wondering where she hid them, but now doesn’t seem like the time to ask. “Bye, ya old bastard, love you.”

I leave her to say her goodbyes and head to Dray. His arms circle around me as soon as I get there, but I don’t care, I lean into him. My feet are almost dragging, I’m that weak and exhausted. Dying really takes it out of you.

His head drops to mine as he holds me up.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you were something special, soulmate. It was the determination in your eyes, but even now, I see that same determination. Your journey isn’t done, this is just a blip, so don’t let the pain and anger consume you and blind you again. ”

I nod and pull back, staring into those cold eyes as his lips quirk up.

“And don’t ever die again, or there won’t be a force on this planet that can stop me from killing everyone and joining you.”

“Crazy man.”

“You know it, wife.” He winks. “Now, let’s finish up, then you need to rest. I like the blood on your skin, but I need you more than half dead for what I have planned for you.”

“Oh, going to make it hurt?” I whisper.

“Always. Just a little reminder of what happens when you try to leave me,” he murmurs.

Leaning up, I kiss him. “I can’t wait, my king.”