“Arlanson!” the prince barked, and Latham reluctantly turned to face them. He sneered at the two of them.
“How cute. The second spare and the disgraced general,” Maddock said, voice barbed.
“Will you four fight with us?” Latham asked.
“Latham, you can’t do this,” Solveig insisted.
He would not meet her eyes. “Actually, I can.”
Though it was likely pointless, she tried to reason with him. “You know what this will do to our people. They will not survive.”
“We are the strongest Vanir legion to ever exist. Your lack of faith in your own soldiers is pathetic,” he spat in response to her honest plea.
“And your bullheaded pride will be the death of us all,” Quillon chimed in.
“Latham, listen to me. You know me. I have never run from a fight I can win, and we cannot win this. We have no magic to protect us, and no measure of skill in combat can prevent the onslaught of whatever power the mortals have gained. How many people have to die for you to see that?”
“You don’t know that, Solveig,” Latham said, sounding less sure.
“We all know this, Latham! Or do you not remember the years before the raids? We’ve tried this already, and half of our people were wiped out!”
The Fae jolted in surprise at the information. The Southern Wilds Legion had been shrouded in mystery since it formed, ensuring no one ever really knew the specifics. They had been far, far greater than their numbers now.
Maddock shrugged. “You’ve trained them better. They don’t rely on their magic anymore.”
“That doesn’t warrant an attack, Commander. And with all due respect, if Jotunheim is not willing to aid our cause, you can keep your opinions to yourself,” Quillon chastised.
“Say we are better trained to fight without our magic. Have you sent scouts to check for traps? Studied their new guard movements? Developed any sort of strategy?” Solveig asked.
“Of course there’s a plan,” Latham replied, indignant. “We have the element of surprise. They’ll be taken off guard.”
“That doesn’t answer my other questions. A surprise attack is all well and good, but we don’t want to be the ones surprised.” She was trying to get him to think rationally but he was having none of it.
“We? Oh no, Solveig. You are not coming,” Latham said.
Everyone, including Maddock, looked at him with varying degrees of surprise and disgust. Solveig instinctively reached out to grab the prince’s arm a second before he took a step towards Latham. His body was tense, poised to attack, but relaxed under her touch.
“There is nothing you can do to stop me from coming,” Solveig said. From the corner of her eye, she noted Veda, Signe, and Idunn waiting in the wings, ready to jump in if needed.
“I can have you thrown into the Vault for disobeying an order from your direct superior.”
Solveig laughed out loud. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious. You are a danger to others and to yourself. I order you to remain here.” He drew himself up to his full height, hand going to his sword.
“I don’t take orders from you,” she said calmly.
“Guards!” Latham called and four sentinels rushed over. Her shieldmaidens made to move towards her as well, but she shook her head.
“Seize her!” Latham ordered. The guards exchanged wary glances, clearly unsure what to do. “I said seize her!” he yelled. Still, they didn’t move.
“Forgive us, General Arlanson, but we cannot,” the one closest to Solveig said quietly. Latham’s face achieved a new shade of red.
“You mean to tell me that you are refusing a direct order from the war general of Asgard?” Latham cried.
The guard went to speak, but Solveig cut her off. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong, Latham. You might be General of the Southern Wilds, but that does not make you the General of Asgard. That appointment comes directly from the queens. Assuming they have not sworn you in through letters, of course. That position died with my assumed death.”
“They are not two different titles!”
