Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,137
battle?” Stepping right up into my face, he raises his lip, snarling the words as he speaks. “Do you know something we don’t and are jumping ship?”
“How dare you?” Jacob leaps up from the log on my right, jumping to my defence. Stepping right up to the painted chief, he draws him away, giving me some space to breathe. “She’s willing to risk her life to give you an advantage on the battlefield that might be the difference between winning and losing, and you accuse her of this?”
Now that I don’t have the chief in my face, I process what Jacob’s just done. He stood up for me. We’ve not really had much time to discuss that we’re half siblings, and to be honest, other than one tearful conversation about our mother, we’ve avoided it. He’s resentful of the years I had with Mother before the king found us. Yet those memories were stolen from me, and truthfully, I’m jealous of the years he had with Mother, even if he didn’t know she was his biological mom. He admitted to me that night that he always felt closer to our mother than the old queen, and he viewed her as more of a mother figure. Her death devastated him, even more so once he learned she had been his true mother all along. Things are still awkward between us, but the fact he’s standing up for me now gives me hope that we can work things out between us.
“How do we know?” Ragnar shouts at the prince. “We have no assurances!”
“Yes, you do!” Everyone turns to look at me. Taking a deep breath, I pray my voice stays steady as I address the group. I know this part of the plan won’t go down well, which is why I haven’t said anything about it until now, so I brace myself for the backlash. “I will be going alone. My mates will travel with you.” Raised eyebrows and shared looks from the chiefs and speakers meet my declaration, but I can feel the volatile reactions from my mates, so I quickly continue, “There is no way I would leave my mates to fight my battles without me.”
“What?”
“No way.”
“Clarissa—”
Voices mix as my mates object, but I turn to them with pleading eyes. I need them to support me in this. I know what I’m asking of them and how hard this will be—the idea of them marching into battle without me tears at my heart—but if I can do this, I know this will help us. Meeting their eyes, I can tell they’re torn. Grayson seems to be struggling the most, and I know that’s because he’s needed to lead one of the groups of mages. Eldrin and Tor also have their own groups to lead, but the former doesn’t seem to care. I know Eldrin would find a replacement and come with me in a heartbeat, his protective fae instincts not allowing him to let me go alone. Vaeril seems to sense this, his own instincts screaming the same.
“At least take one of us,” Vaeril suggests. “I’m not leading a group. Someone needs to protect you in case anything happens. I can also run you back if it doesn’t work so we get there in time.”
Could that work? Can I deprive the army of a capable fighter to help me in my task? If all goes to plan, you will meet back with the army outside of Galandell before the fighting begins, I remind myself, going over the plan in my mind. His comment does make sense, and I won’t deny that knowing he will be there in case anything goes wrong does help ease some of the panic that is wrapped around my chest. Biting my lip with indecision, I glance at the others, sensing their discomfort over the situation. Vaeril coming with me will help soothe all of us. Finally, I nod in agreement, seeing the relief in their expressions before turning to face the chiefs once more.
“You mark my words, she’s abandoning us to die,” Ragnar snarls before storming off towards his tribe, which is waiting in a huddled group.
Silence follows his prediction, and I sigh in frustration, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to ease some of the tension that’s built up there. Hearing footsteps approaching me, I open my eyes and lower my hand to see my aunt wearing a concerned expression.
“I ask this as your relative, not your chief—do you have to do this?”