Zimri noted it as well.
But Ian did not know if these men would listen to their general or their prince.
“Since when has Iseldis been a kingdom that slaughters the innocent?” Ian cried, speaking past Zimri to the soldiers themselves. “These people are clearly unable to defend themselves. My father, the king, would not condone this.”
Zimri slowly lowered his sword, drawing it down in a straight line rather than the charged fall of an attack order.
Ian nodded, still breathing quickly. Perhaps Zimri was beginning to see the truth.
The Chendas soldiers on the bluff started to turn behind them, reacting to something that Ian could not see.
The Iseldan soldiers below noticed this and turned to look up as a cavalry rode into view on the bluff above.
Chapter 49
King Gareth had arrived.
He sat atop a massive horse, his golden armor catching the first glint of direct sunlight from over the horizon.
Ian squinted, resisting the urge to cover his eyes. He would not cower in front of this false king. But his knees wavered for an entirely different reason. If Gareth was here, the time for negotiation was past. The Majis would die. But it would be over his dead body.
He forced his eyes to remain open, staring at the bright reflection from Gareth’s armor. This was the last sunrise he would ever see.
A cheer went up from the Chendas soldiers at the sight of their king.
The Iseldan soldiers followed suit, but half-heartedly.
Recognizing their confusion, Ian turned his attention back to Zimri. “Do not do this. Iseldis has trusted you with her safety for nearly thirty years. Do not do this. You do not want this blood on your hands.”
Zimri did not respond to Ian. His attention had turned back up the hill to where Gareth was now dismounting.
The soldiers remained quiet as Gareth stepped down the bluff, flanked by General Gautho on one side and the tallest man Ian had ever seen on the other. Ian did not recognize the tall man. Most of his body was covered in armor, but his head had no helmet. It was protected only by long, matted dark hair and a thick beard that obscured his face.
“What battle is this,” Gareth asked as he walked toward Zimri, “that takes place without the blade?”
“I have no blade,” Ian said.
“The prince who ran,” Gareth said, raising his voice to be heard as far as possible. “Here to show his true colors,” Gareth continued. “Tell me, Ian Sirilian, on whose side do you stand?”
“I stand for Iseldis,” Ian said, keeping his voice raised despite the burn in his salty throat. He gestured to the Majis behind him. “These people are innocent, forced to be here against their will, and clearly unable to defend themselves. As Crown Prince of Iseldis, I order you to stand down.”
“They are not unarmed!” a soldier yelled somewhere from Ian’s left. It was close enough to be one of the men from Iseldis, as the Chendas soldiers were too high up the bluff to be heard so clearly. “They are Majis! They have magic.”
Gareth did not smile, but he seemed pleased with this public outcry.
“These men and women will not harm you!” Ian yelled back, looking to either side of Gareth and Zimri, speaking to the soldiers themselves. “Where are their ships? This is clearly not the Return you have feared!”
The sharp snap of energy drew Ian’s eyes back to the left, and he caught sight of a flash of lightning as it hit the man who had cried out about the magic moments before.
The man screamed. He fell to his knees, looking down at the colorful sparks that danced across his metal breastplate.
The man next to him pointed to the Majis. “They attacked!”
Ian did not see where the attack had come from, but he was entirely certain that it was not from the group of crouching Majis behind him.
The Iseldan soldiers pushed forward, clearly wanting to rush the Majis, but too well trained to do so without the express order from their general.
Gareth held up his hand, cautioning the soldiers to stop. “Give this man a sword,” Gareth said, turning to Zimri. “Then let us see if he will fight for those who are unarmed.”
