And the fact that so many of her followers did not want to be with her at all. They knew exactly why they had been called in by the newly installed Warlord: their bodies a buffer between her and whatever the resistance had planned. They knew the rebels had their champion. They knew an attack was coming. And they knew their role: shields.
Well before midnight, Luca stood among his men, Tala by his side. The fire pit had not been fed in hours, and yet it still burned, lighting up the trampled remains of the encampment. Healers were out, doing what they could, and a second wave of resistance members combed through the tents now, providing food and water to anyone in need. They were all one now. At daylight, they would see just what that looked like.
“Those who ran will not be hunted,” Luca announced, as loudly as possible. His voice had started to go, water and rest needed. Beltza the black wolf nuzzled his side. “We will not begin this campaign with fear.”
In a perfect world, this would be the only true battle on the journey to reinstate the Kingdom of Torrence. The rest of the fight coming with words—changing minds, sharing plans, gaining support.
Luca knew he could not control what others would do. Just that moment someone might be watching the stars with the seeds of prolonged resistance on their mind. But if he had his druthers, this would be the only blood shed.
“To your assignments, and your rest. Good night, my friends. Hitz ematen dizut.”
The men responded in kind, and Luca turned away, Tala by his side, Beltza leading the way toward the camp tent the resistance had procured and guarded for Luca. Amarande waited for him there, and he’d been informed she’d tried to push past the guards at least once—they were there to protect her as much as keep her from joining the fray, injured and unarmed.
“My Otsakumea, by morning, we must tell the entire group of the Warlord’s deception,” Tala said with a long sigh. This man was not one to enjoy his victory with so much to be done. The information they’d learned about the faux transfer of power had rattled him, to be sure. “Those who toiled in the shadow of the Warlord for so long deserve to know that the snake has not been cut off at the head.”
Luca touched the man’s shoulder. The battle was catching up with him now—he could no longer hide his limp, his stitches were stiff and inflamed, and everything from his skin to the hair atop his head ached. “Yes, and by morning we will have a plan. For Geneva, for Inés and her army. For all of it. Rest, Tala. You need it and deserve it. Your plan worked better than we could have imagined.”
The old man ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. At his side, the black wolf sat back on her haunches. Waiting.
“How can I rest when my mind churns with the start of a new plan? Our people are tired; they may not be ready yet to face down the Itspi. It worries me so that we must do this again. And at the home that raised you—I know you care for Ardenia. It will be—”
“It will be fine.” Luca squeezed the man’s shoulder and then removed his hand. “I know you do not trust Ardenia and this new information does not help. But I need you to trust my princess—”
“My Otsakumea, I feel badly about your princess. I must apologize.”
“Tell her tomorrow, Tala. After we’re successful.” Spent, the leader nodded, relenting. Luca smiled. “She will find a way for us. I will find a way for us.”
CHAPTER55
THEprincess, the Otsakumea, the general, and the pirate convened in the officers’ tent set up on the outskirts of the encampment. Eight pro-Otxoa soldiers manned the exterior perimeter. Inside, the world as they knew it lay in pieces atop blankets and flickering under candle lamps.
The fingerprints of dead kings littered it all.
Domingu’s greedy attempt at mass regicide leading to a false revolution that became a real one.
A prince, orphaned by said revolution, being hidden in plain sight in Sendoa’s kingdom, the best he could do for the family he helped murder.
Then, in a second act, a queen stealing the king’s bastard son, abandoning her family, and raising him for her own and becoming the leader of the revolution her abandoned husband started after she refused to kill him.
And now, after more calculated deaths, they were left with two women on thrones they’d stolen via conquest rather than blood, facing off against each other for the continent.
Unless they were able to stop it.
“I do not pretend to understand the whims of royals, butwhat in the stars is wrong with you people?” Ula asked after a quiet moment, brows tucked together, as she rethreaded a needle to address the princess’s wounds. She’d already cleaned and repaired some of Luca’s stitches, gone ragged in the fighting. “Someone should’ve sunk a dagger in Domingu’s heart twenty years ago and circumvented this mess.”
“If not Domingu, it would be someone else. In fact, itissomeone else,” Amarande answered through clenched teeth.
Amarande was balled up on the tent rugs, held still by Luca’s embrace. Her prisoner’s tunic was sliced open, half her arm stitched as Ula again sterilized the needle over the flame. The wound from theprison cart cut her open from the bone tip of her shoulder down to the top of her wrist. The upper part was a violent wreck, and they’d agreed to attempt to keep the stitches above the elbow. Amarande swallowed and rushed out the words while she could. “It just took twenty years for the chips to fall and it happens to be two women vying for the end of the patriarchy.”
Luca dropped a kiss on Amarande’s shoulder and tightened his grip as Ula prepared to dive again into the princess’s arm. “It would be poetic if not for the fact that unless these two powerful women kill each other, they’re coming for us next.”
He was not wrong.
Koldo stood and began a measured pace about one side of the tent, her soldier’s mind silently churning.
“Hold still,” Ula commanded Amarande. “I can’t with this shaking.”
“I’m not trying to,” she insisted, grabbing a fistful of the rug that had been laid out for them. Ula had offered a stick, but she’d not taken it, wanting the chance to participate in the conversation. “One would think the amount of alcohol in my bloodstream from the disinfecting portion of this would make this easier.”
