The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles #3) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,149

general played his games, his daughter was caught in the middle of it. I remembered the fear in her eyes, and her trembling hand as she signed the documents. The girl was afraid and wanted no part of me, but I had ignored it because I was desperate and angry.

“Let’s move on,” I said. “What happens between me and Lia isn’t something that needs to be on the table. We have an unbeatable army marching this way.”

“You don’t believe that,” Sven said, finishing off his pie, “or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I got a look at the troops this morning, and it’s worse than we thought. Azia called it pathetic.”

Sven grunted. “Pathetic is a strong word. The few I saw seemed astute and able.”

“The few you saw is exactly the problem. It’s not that they lack skill or loyalty, but their ranks are depleted. This is their biggest training post, but they’ve been dispersed all over Morrighan in small units. Only a thousand are stationed here right now. Gathering them all back here will take weeks. Even then, it won’t be enough.”

“The Vendan army may not all be headed this way. Dalbreck is a closer target. We’ll sort it out. First things first. The assembly this afternoon. Strategizing a plan after that.”

A plan. I had decided not to tell Sven what I had done. It would either work out or it wouldn’t, and telling him would only incur a blistering lecture about being impulsive. But it hadn’t felt impulsive when I rode to the camp outside the city gates where the handler was ensconced with the Valsprey. After I gave him the messages, I looked back at Civica, and the weight of its history settled over me. I felt the centuries of survival. This was the beginning, the first kingdom to rise after the devastation, the one all the other kingdoms were born from, including Dalbreck. Morrighan was a jewel the Komizar hungered for, a validation of his own greatness, and once he had it, along with its abundant resources, no kingdom would be spared. My doubts vanished. He was coming here first.

Sven eyed me suspiciously, as if he could see the inner workings of my mind. He set his papers aside. “What did you do?”

We had been together for too many years. I sat down in an overstuffed chair and threw my feet up on the table. “I added a request in my message to the colonel at Fontaine.”

“A request?”

“An order. I told him to send his troops to Civica.”

Sven sighed and rubbed his eyes. “How many?”

“All of them.”

“All of them as in all of them?”

I nodded.

Sven jumped to his feet, jarring the table and spilling his cider. “Have you lost your mind? Fontaine’s our largest outpost! Six thousand soldiers! It’s our first line of defense for our western borders!”

“I sent the same message to Bodeen.”

By now Orrin and Jeb were both sitting up.

Sven sat back at the table and rested his head in his hands.

Orrin whistled at the staggering news.

I figured this was a good time to leave. Any more revelations, and Sven might burst a blood vessel. My decisions were made and there was no changing them now.

“Not a word to anyone,” I said. “This isn’t an answer to all their problems. They need to remain earnest in their efforts.” I walked toward the door.

“Now where are you going?” Sven asked.

“First things first,” I said. As much as I hated to admit it, Kaden would be a critical part of the plan to save Morrighan. “I promised to make some peace.”

* * *

I checked his room. When he wasn’t there, I followed my next best guess, and I was right. I spotted him, one hand pressed to the wall, poised at the top of the stairs that led to the lowest level of the citadelle—where the prisoners were kept.

He stared down the dark stairwell so consumed by his thoughts he didn’t notice me at the end of the passageway.

He is Morrighese, I thought, just as Lia had claimed.

He was born from a line of nobility that went all the way back to Piers, one of the fiercest warriors of Morrighan lore. A Holy Guardian, Sven had called him. He had given me a brief history lesson the night before, when I noted my surprise at Kaden’s parentage. A statue of a muscled powerful Piers dominated the entrance to Piers Camp.

Kaden didn’t look powerful now. He looked beaten.

But last night—I swallowed, remembering how they looked together when I went