“Are you saying the Grim King is the god of Merseh, and the Host is his priest?”
Lysandros hesitated. “In the eyes of the Empire, yes. It’s a rare,but not unprecedented, form of god worship. This was why I was tasked with finding the Chief Herder, and not the Grim King, to make an alliance.”
She now realized what Lysandros had meant on the steppe—that it wasn’t Eldred but Yuma who was the king of Danras. Because the Grim King was the god, the Host his priest, and Yuma the king… And none of these three were deemed acceptable by the Empire.
“You swore to me, in the pouring starlight,” she whispered as her voice shook. “You swore.”
Every word of what he’d said was clear in her mind. Those words had comforted her on nights she was kept up by thoughts of fighting the Grim King.I swear, as an emissary of the Empire, that I shall use all my power as an inquisitor of the Imperial Office of Truth to aid Yuma, the Chief Herder of Danras, to save Merseh from Eldred.
“I remember,” he said, his eyes looking into hers. “And I’ve done what I’ve sworn to do so far, have I not? Only months remain until Merseh is saved from the Grim King forever.”
“But the Merseh to come is not the Merseh of now. And I am not the Chief Herder of Danras in that Merseh.”
“Yuma…” He gently took hold of her shoulders. “I’m sorry this isn’t what Chief Herder had in mind. But the world changes. And the reign of the Grim King will be over. Danras will prosper with the Empire. As unexpected as it is, haven’t the fortunes of all Merseh improved in the end?”
Yuma didn’t answer. She could not think of anything other than the steppe, and the wind in her hair. Merseh would soon change into something else, like Lysandros said. Yes, Merseh would become Mersia, as the outsiders called it. And there wouldbe no place in Mersia for the Chief Herder, the Host, or the Grim King. It turned out she had made sure of it.
“Let’s go to the Imperial Capital together,” he said. “I can stop this wandering and get a post there. Chief Herder can become a councillor in the Commons. Chief Herder would represent Merseh in the Capital. Andwecould be married.”
The form of “we” he used was perfect and affectionate. His words were earnest, his voice soft. There wasn’t a shadow of suspicion or regret. Tears rose in Yuma’s eyes.
“Danras is a great city, but the Imperial Capital is different,” he continued. “It is the largest and busiest city in the world. Chief Herder could meet with the Host any time.Wewould pick from the people of Danras for the prefect’s seat, and Chief Herder could sell or lend the share of oroxen to them. And whenever Chief Herder misses home,wecould always come back and ride the horses.”
Yuma swallowed her tears and said, “Can the Host officiate our wedding?”
“Of course! The Host is not a prisoner after all.”
“And the ceremony will follow our traditions.”
“It never occurred to me to do it otherwise.”
Yuma smiled weakly and quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.
Lysandros, reassured, hugged her. “I’ll be off then. I need to oversee a few things before the Fifth Legion arrives. I will see Chief tonight.”
She nodded. Lysandros kissed her on the forehead, laid another gentle hand on Yuma’s stomach where Tychon lay, and left the room.
As his footsteps faded, Yuma opened her wardrobe. She tookout her clothing from the herding, washed and neatly mended since their arrival. The chaps were a little tight, but they had been a generous fit to begin with, so she could still slip them on. She put on the white tunic, tied the string around her neck, and put on the vest. Her leather belt still had her dagger on the side. She put on her boots, her spurs having recently been polished to a shine. Finally, she reached deep into her closet to retrieve her brown wide-brimmed hat, and placed it on her head.
She put her hand in the vest pocket. The two stones the Grim King had given her were still there.
Coming down the stairs into the hall, she came upon Old Vella once more.
“Going out, Chief Herder?”
Yuma nodded. “Please tell the stables to ready Aston.”
Vella nodded and left the room. Yuma stood by the doors. They had fought the Grim King’s undead army here in the beginning of winter. She opened the cupboards and packed some of the winter-dried meat.
A boy whose name she didn’t remember came with Aston to the doors. Yuma hitched her sack of dried meat to the saddle and hoisted herself up. Getting on the horse was a little harder than the last time she had done this.
“Chief Herder, where are you going with all this food?”
Yuma smiled and patted the child’s head. This child would never have to fear the Grim King again.
But neither would he go out to the herding or receive the blessing of the Host.
Yuma lightly spurred Aston to move forward and was soon galloping toward the castle of the Grim King.
