how many letters I sent in hopes of negotiating peace, the royal house of Rhyne would not listen. All they wanted was my head on a pike: a life for a life, a prince for a princess.
Amira. I pushed away the memory of her golden hair and gentle smile. War was no place to get lost in the past. I had other lives depending on me.
With a sharp click of my tongue, my horse leapt into a canter and made for the front line. Thousands of men and women clad in steel armor stared back at me, the griffin crest of Wilheim etched across their hearts. They stood at the ready, their backs ramrod straight and gazes locked forward, the white banners with their purple emblems snapping in the wind. We had no drums. We had no horns. We had no need to declare our presence. This was our home, and the quiet town at our backs was the only reminder we needed.
We would not lose.
As I came to a halt, one man broke rank and guided his stallion to my side. A scraggly beard crawled down his neck, and when he tipped his head my direction, umber eyes locked with mine. He gripped my shoulder with a smile.
“Let’s get this over with. There’s an ale with my name on it waiting back at camp.” A laugh rumbled through his chest, cut short by a wet cough.
Dread stirred in my gut. “Thaleus?”
My general waved me off. “It’s nothing a little ale won’t fix. Best get on with this so I can wet my whistle.” Straightening, he pounded a closed fist to his chest a few times, seemingly loosening whatever had caught in his throat. The coughing died, but my unease didn’t. He touched a finger to his cracked lips and winced. No doubt there were purplish bags swelling beneath his eyes, too.
This plague—or whatever it was—was just as skilled at killing my men as Rhyne had proven to be, and if we didn’t get out of this gods-forsaken marsh soon, I wouldn’t have a kingdom left to defend.
Before I could say anything more, a low horn sounded from across the marsh. It picked up an octave right at the end before dying completely, signaling Rhyne’s attack. The ground rumbled from the sudden quake of hooves and feet, and thousands of jade soldiers crashed through the muddy banks toward our ranks.
Beside me, Thaleus took charge. “Archers!” His voice rang out loud and clear. Maybe this plague hadn’t marked him for dead quite yet. The tiniest sliver of relief settled my fear. We’d live to fight another battle together. We had to.
Archers raised their bows to the skies at his command, and Thaleus unsheathed his sword. “Nock!” His bellow was followed by the stretching of string and arrows clacking against wood. Shoulders tense, they held position without wavering. I turned my back to them and faced the oncoming threat. Tightened my grip on my sword.
“Steady,” Thaleus called. Blood rushed to my ears, carrying with it the frenzied beat of my heart. I took in a slow breath. Let it out. Repeated the action. Sounds dimmed, and all I could feel was the steady vibration of pounding feet. The time was here.
“Loose!” Thaleus’s order preceded a volley of arrows that blackened the sky. The sun winked out, and our world was cast into temporary shadow. The low whistle of wood and feathers sung through the air…until metal-tipped heads clanked against armor or sunk into flesh, and the definitive sound of bodies hitting the earth interrupted the steady cadence of Rhyne’s war drums. Angered bellows answered our attack, and they broke formation to charge.
Thaleus signaled for another round of arrows before yanking his own sword out of its sheath. Turning to the men at our backs, he raised his weapon high. “Infantry with me. Riders with Prince Aleksander. We will not fall!”
The company of horsemen to my left waited with baited breath, their mounts pawing anxiously at the ground. Among them were three imposing figures clad in mercury armor. Sentinels. Wilheim’s elite force of soldiers tasked with protecting the city and the royal family. An army of them would have destroyed Rhyne’s men in a matter of days. Instead, thousands of men and women, soldiers I’d grown to love over the years, were forced to give up their lives so that my home could remain protected.
Despite the war, despite my arguments with Father, the Sentinels of Wilheim remained stationed atop the gleaming diamond and