“I know Empress Malini’s army stands against him,” Rao said calmly. He did not move, did not flinch, as his men waited for his signal. He didn’t think he would need to give it. “All I can tell you is that you should ally with Empress Malini. All I can tell you is that if you wish to ensure your future, that’s the best path. The only path.”
Kunal fell silent again. He was trembling. Slowly, his fingers unclasped from Rao’s wrist. He reached for the water. Took an unsteady drink, wild and wasteful, water running down his chin. He lowered it back down.
“I’ll ally with your empress,” Kunal said finally. “I’ve seen what Emperor Chandra is. I’ll do it. For—for Saketa’s sake. For our future.”
“Good,” said Rao. “That’s good. Eat now, and rest if you can. We’ll be on the move again tonight.” He clapped a hand lightly against Kunal’s shoulder, all friendly camaraderie, then rose to his feet.
He walked to the edge of their small encampment, away from the shadow of the fire. One of his men was on guard, sharpening his daggers with a spark of steel against stone.
“He’s lying,” the man muttered. “My lord.”
Rao gave the smallest nod.
“Go and eat,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”
“You haven’t eaten yet, my lord.”
“I’ll eat later,” he said.
Rao stayed where he was, staring out into the dark. He wasn’t hungry. His stomach felt weighed down by what lay ahead of him, and what he would have to do.
The nameless knew how much Rao didn’t want to do what was needful. But need—and the nameless—had little mercy for one man’s overly tender heart.
The first thing Rao saw, on their approach to the fortress, was smoke. The sky was gray with it. He could feel it getting into his lungs. Around him, his men were hacking. Prince Kunal looked gray as the smoke and ash surrounding them. He hadn’t expected this either, then.
Rao drew his shawl over his mouth and kept on moving forward.
When the bulk of Malini’s army had left the ground surrounding the Saketan fortress, they had left green plains of grass behind them. Rocky ground, yes, but trees too.
Now there was nothing but blasted earth, scorched by fire.
Rao’s small group were met immediately by an armed band of soldiers, bows drawn. But the bows were lowered swiftly when Rao announced himself.
They were led to the remains of the camp. A handful of tents. A straggling group of men, sparse enough that Rao knew without a doubt how close Aditya’s efforts were to failure.
Chained at the wrists, his arm held by one of Rao’s men, Kunal was trembling. But Rao could not think of him. He could only watch as a figure emerged from one of the tents, dressed in armor that had seen better days. Hair a little ragged, from mistreatment and too-close brushes with flame. Skin darkened by sunlight.
“Rao,” Aditya called. And there was no pause, after that, for pleasantries or bowing, for Rao to sayPrince Aditya, and explain his reasons for being here. There was only Aditya drawing him into a crushing hug. Only Aditya murmuring against his hair, “I knew you’d come.”
“Of course,” Rao choked out. This was right. This was where he was meant to be. “Of course, Aditya.”
Mahesh looked tired. Old in a way he simply never had before. His gaze dimmed, visibly, when he learned that Rao had not brought reinforcements.
“We won’t last for much longer,” Mahesh said bluntly. “You’ve brought us nothing, Prince Rao?”
Rao shook his head.
“The empress could spare nothing.”
“Then I pray the empress takes Parijat swiftly,” Mahesh said. He looked at Aditya. Then said, “We’ve faced battle once already today. Those priestly soldiers do not relent. Fire arrows and swords and their bodies thrown at us—they’ll do anything, as long as they think they’re acting in the interests of the mothers. Another attack like that, and I fear the High Prince’s men will escape our grip.”
“Lord Mahesh is correct,” Aditya said quietly. “We have little left to give.”
“You’ve stopped them from leaving the fort and marching on Parijat. That counts for something. I didn’t think you would manage that.” When Aditya gave him a look, Rao said, “I didn’t think anyone could manage that.”
“It counts for less than you would think.” Aditya pushed his hair back from his face. His hand left a smear of dirt and sweat in its wake. “The maze of that fort—we must infiltrate it to get to the High Prince, to end this—and, Rao, I can only send men in in small groups, and they’re felled fast. And despite the cost of this war—the lives we’ve paid with to hold them at bay—small numbers of his men keep breaking free. Somehow. We cannot stop them.” Aditya met his eyes, naked exhaustion in his face. “Their fires are dying. Whatever stock of flames they have—my sister was not wrong about that. But their water doesn’t run out. Their food doesn’t run out. And our own…”
Rao nodded wordlessly. Inwardly, he cursed. He should have brought supplies. But he had only made it this far, this swiftly, because he had come unencumbered. Even dragging Prince Kunal along had delayed him more than he would have liked.
