Horsemen's War (The Rebellion Chronicles #3) - Steve McHugh Page 0,42

to wait and be conquered.”

No one said anything for several seconds.

“That passion in your voice,” Nanshe said. “Use it. You will be talking to a hundred senators. You need only sway fifty of them.”

“Not fifty-one?” Medusa asked.

“You have my vote already,” Nanshe told them with a shrug. “Olympus is neutral, something I’m pretty sure you’ll all agree that Zeus would have hated, but here we are. I do not want war, I do not want to send people to die, but war is coming. We either help when we can, or we die when Avalon and Arthur decide we’re too dangerous to leave alive. Not much of an option in my mind.”

“Thank you,” Mordred said.

“Don’t,” Nanshe said, continuing on. “I remember the old Mordred, the one who terrorized, who terrified. I remember the darkness in your eyes. A lot of the senators will remember him too. They will not see a difference. They will see a killer with a sword of power. Excalibur. A weapon used to make you more dangerous. This will not be an easy sell.”

“I’m the king,” Mordred said with a sigh. “If I wanted an easy life, I’d have run away the first time someone told me to find Excalibur.”

Nanshe placed a hand on Mordred’s shoulder. “I always knew you were capable of greatness. I’m glad to see you in a better place. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you get there.”

“No one could have,” Mordred told her.

As they continued on, Hel took Mordred’s hand in hers and squeezed slightly. “That went better than you thought.”

Mordred nodded. “Let’s not celebrate just yet,” he said softly.

The palace was awash with guards, who watched the newcomers suspiciously, and as they traveled through to the council chambers that were attached to the side, Mordred wondered whether bringing war to even more people was ever going to be enough to stop Arthur. He mentally told himself to shut up—he had to be prepared for whatever came next, and second-guessing himself wasn’t going to get the job done.

While the palace was all marble and white brick, the council chamber was considerably humbler. It was made of white-and-red brick—much like most of the city buildings—but there were no large marble statues of various gods, nor ornate murals depicting battles. It was just plain and functional.

The council building was a giant circle, with various rooms for the workers around a central circular room. There was a large white stone dais with ten rows of benches encircling it, tiered to look down on the dais.

“We have a few minutes before the senate resumes for the day,” Nanshe said. “You came at a good time. An hour later, and you would have walked in on a session already in progress. I will go and send word that this afternoon is mandatory attendance. You will have a full house, Mordred.”

Nanshe left the team alone in the curia, and Mordred spotted the guards standing at the entrance to the palace. Nanshe might trust them, but that didn’t mean the guards wouldn’t be cautious.

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Loki asked.

“I have a good idea,” Mordred said.

“Do you, really?” Hel asked.

“Mostly, yeah,” Mordred said.

Senators started to come into the curia and took their seats on the benches as Hel kissed Mordred for luck, and the rest of his team went to sit. Nanshe entered and stood beside Mordred as the shocked whispers of the senate flooded the room, echoing. Mordred looked around. Among the shocked and curious faces were a lot of angry ones.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the senate,” Nanshe said, her voice turning the din of whispers into silence. “This is King Mordred. He has come from Shadow Falls to suggest an alliance. He will be heard. He will be afforded the respect that we would give anyone who comes to us for help. As leader of this senate, I suggest that anyone who takes umbrage with this leave now, and their vote on the matter will not be counted.”

No one moved.

“Excellent,” Nanshe said. “Mordred, state your case.”

Mordred took a deep breath. “Judging from the expressions in the room, all of you know who I was. Not am. Was. I was a murderer, a thief, a monster. I admit this. For a century I was imprisoned by my own father, Merlin, in a blood elf dungeon. My mind was torn asunder every day for a hundred years. Avalon tried to use me as a weapon, until I finally escaped. I can offer no excuses for what