Lestara’s mouth curled up in a smirk as she bounced the baby prince. “I think your threats are empty, Zarrah. I think that you, and your consort”—her eyes slid to Keris—“are impotent in this conflict.”
She’d grown clever under the tutelage of the Harendellians, but Zarrah had never been one to back down. “Are you willing to make that bet?”
Lestara pantomimed shaking dice in a cup, casting them out into the air, to the amusement of the men watching on.
“So be it.” Zarrah eyed the Harendellian nobles, who were looking everywhere but at her. “This investment is going to cost you dearly.”
“I find myself growing weary of your threats,” Lestara snapped. “You were never invited here, and your presence is unwelcome. Leave, and on your way south, do let Aren know my terms.”
Zarrah looked at the face of the prince who was supposed to achieve such great things, her heart aching for the life he’d been born into through no fault of his own. “Long live the king,” she said.
Then she took Keris’s arm, and together they walked toward war.
94
Ahnna
The river stretched out beforethem like a green ribbon winding toward the sea—but to Ahnna, it felt like a noose wrapping around all their necks.
They were all going to die, and it was because they came to rescue her.
She crouched low in the narrow canoe, fingers white-knuckled against the wood, every muscle braced as arrows flew overhead. Her sodden dress clung to her skin, blood seeping from a shallow cut across her forearm, but none of it registered over the pounding of her heart.
They should have left me.
Another arrow thudded into the wood beside her knee, then the mounted archers gave up their pursuit, their mounts spent. A moment of respite, but like all the others, it would be short-lived.
James was crouched next to her. His face was set in grim lines, his shirt torn and wet with river water, one of his eyes swollen almost shut. He hadn’t left her side during their flight down the river toward the sea.
Yet part of her still struggled to believe he was alive.
“You’re too quiet,” he said, not turning around. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head, and though her throat felt too tight for words, she managed, “She said you were dead. Said that she’d killed you. I…” She didn’t know how to put into words that her heart had been shattered, and even with him living and breathing right next to her, she was still struggling to put the pieces back together.
“Is that why you went to William with your plan to take the blame?”
Ahnna shook her head. “No. But it made it easier to go through with it.”
He shifted to look at the opposite bank, but she didn’t fail to notice how his jaw flexed and unflexed beneath the scruff of beard. “I’m angry at you.”
It was awkward having this conversation with her people pressed in all around them, the threat of another force of archers coming upon them putting everyone on edge. Yet with death lurking around each bend in the river, no conversation could wait. “I didn’t see another solution.”
“It was never a solution.” He rounded on her, amber eyes flashing. “William would have kept to his word for a time, but Alexandra wouldneverhave let the bridge go. She’d have worked away at convincing him that he deserved the bridge, or that Ithicana needed his guidance, or whatever strategy she came up with, and Harendell’s navy would have set sail. Your death would have been a bandage, would have hidden the wound, but that wound would have continued to fester beneath.”
“Well, actually, given Lestara had already poisoned William when I went to meet him…” She trailed off as James’s glower deepened. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
Ahnna bit the insides of her cheeks. “What would you have had me do? What would you have done, if you’d been me?”
Instead of answering, James lifted an arm to point. “Aren, archers!” Everyone lifted shields and weapons, but he met her gaze again. “Wetried to be clever. We tried to defeat our enemies with manipulations and schemes to avoid a war, but here we are. All that is left is to fight. All that is left is to pit Ithicana’s defenses against the might of Harendell and hope that we can hold out until the storms come again. What I would have you do is pick up your sword and fight at my side until the end.”
In answer, Ahnna lifted a shield above their heads, her arm shuddering as an arrow struck the wood. “You’ll fight, even though it’s against your own people?”
“I chose you, Ahnna. I married you. Your fight is my fight until my heart beats its last.” He caught hold of her waist, and pulled her against him, kissing her hard even as shouts sounded from shore.
A volley rained from above. Arrows tore through the air, some splashing into the river, some striking the other vessels, others punching into shields. Ahead, one of their ships faltered, caught sideways in the current. Archers targeted it mercilessly.
