Glancing up at her, he finally admitted on a rasp, low and husky, “Nothing I’d care to confess aloud.”
Chapter twenty-four
Dane
The deep tolling of the bells of Mysai filled the air, rattling through his bones, his chest, his heart. A palpable collective fear choked his senses—a noxious stink that left him nearly breathless as he pounded through the eerily empty streets of what had once been a bustling trade port.
Despite the hot afternoon sun seeking to scorch him through his armor, he still felt cold. It was a beautiful, cloudless day. Unease settled low in his gut again, driving him onward along with the dozen men who remained in his unit.
Something was coming—something far worse than all the soldiers, siege engines, and war elephants the King of Arath could fling at them.
Witches. A good handful of them, too, if Thorley’s last count had been accurate.
“Make for the docks!” Dane shouted again, his voice echoing off the elegant marble buildings stretching far overhead. Domes of gold, silver, and glass caught the light, seeking to blind him as he veered into the next street, banging on doors as he went. “All civilians must evacuate!”
“They’ve already left, Wilsham,” Thorley snarled, “and if we were half as smart, we would, too, while we still can. Other units have deserted already. We can, too.”
Dane tightened his jaw and kept moving. The clamor of many voices rumbled in the distance. The tang of salt water and rotting fish cut through the stench of fear.
They were getting close to the harbor.
“We have our orders,” he reminded Thorley without glancing that way. “Evacuate the civilians. After that, you canblightoff to the desert like a coward if you want.”
Elias barked out a laugh.
Thorley grabbed him by the arm and wrenched him around to face him. Even through the slit in his helm, Dane could clearly see the wild look shining in the other man’s eyes—like a spooked horse ready to bolt.
“Coward?” his bunkmate repeated, spitting the word. “I’d rather live a coward than die a hero.” Thorley glanced just over Dane’s shoulder, where Sir Conall’s sword was now strapped to his back. He sneered. “Dying man gives you a sword and now you think you’re all important, eh, Wilsham? Well, I don’t givea blasted fig what Sir Conall wanted. You’re no commander of mine.”
Dane gritted his teeth until his jaw ached as Thorley kept on, hissing straight in his face with his rancid, vodka-soaked breath, “A crybaby like you, always whimpering in the middle of the night when you think no one can hear. ‘Oh, please, Lord, let Hedley still be alive.’ How old are you, Wilsham? Because you sound like—”
Without a word, Elias stepped forward and slammed the butt of his warhammer down over Thorley’s head. The man immediately crumpled into a quiet heap at Dane’s feet.
Unconscious.
“Anyone else want to waste time flinging insults at Sir Wilsham?” Elias roared to the rest of the unit.
When no one answered, the northman grunted and looked back to Dane.
Sir Wilsham. He didn’t blame Thorley for balking. Even he found it absurd.
But he was the commanding knight for his unit now. He could no longer afford to be afraid, nor to doubt. His men needed him.
The people of Mysai needed him.
Nudging Thorley’s body with the tip of his boot, he rolled the other man off to the side of the street and prayed he might be missed by the horde of Arathians that was sure to follow, hunting for survivors.
“We continue on,” he commanded the eleven soldiers left, already setting off back down the street toward the stink of the docks. They had been stationary too long. They needed to keepmoving. “I don’t care about the other units. We’re seeing this through until the last ship shoves off. That is what the queen ordered. That is what we’re doing.”
“Aye, Lord Commander,” Elias whooped, following close behind.
Within the safety of his helm, Dane grimaced. “I’m not the Lord Commander,” he corrected. “Just a captain.” He was so far down the ranks, he had never so much as seen the Lord Commander of Fort Mysai, but he knew it hadn’t been Sir Conall.
And it certainly wasn’t him. Questionable promotion to knighthood or not, he could never be alord.
Elias shrugged. “You’re the only knight I see. Probably the only knight left in all Mysai who didn’t go slinking off the moment we got our orders. Which would makeyouthe Lord Commander.”
Dane tried not to think about that.
