Rule of Wolves (King of Scars #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,124
that we may still find new followers among the Grisha.”
Chernov clapped him on the back. “A worthy goal once the war is over.”
He contemplated tearing Chernov’s arm from its socket. Instead he shifted his approach. “But what of the Apparat? The priest will return to Ravka with Demidov, will he not? He’s fought the Darkling’s Sainthood at every turn.”
“We believe we can win him to our cause in time.”
This is all wrong. On that, Yuri and Aleksander could agree. Yuri had been a member of the Apparat’s Priestguard for a time. He’d watched the Apparat side first with the Sun Saint and then with no one at all, waiting for Alina and the Darkling to wage their battles as he and his followers stayed safely underground. The Starless shouldn’t be content to plead for scraps from the priest’s hand, no matter what sway he held with Ravka’s people.
“The sun will be setting soon,” Chernov said as the Starless gathered, facing to the west. “You’re just in time for services. Brother Azarov will be speaking.”
“No,” said Aleksander. “I will speak.”
Chernov blinked. “I … well … Perhaps it would be best to take some time to settle in, to reacquaint yourself with—”
Aleksander didn’t wait to hear the rest. He strode to the front of the congregation and heard a few murmurs of “Yuri!” and “Brother Vedenen!” from those who had not yet seen him in the camp. Others were strangers, people who had joined the Starless after Yuri had left their ranks.
“Brother Azarov,” Aleksander said, approaching the young man with yellow hair who was preparing to speak. He had the pallor and charisma of a glass of milk.
“Brother Vedenen! I’m so pleased to see you again. Your preaching was sorely missed, but I’ve been trying my hand at it.”
“Chernov has an urgent matter he wants you to attend to.”
“He does?”
“Indeed. Extremely urgent. Go on now.” He strode past Brother Azarov and took his place where he belonged, in front of the crowd.
Aleksander looked out over their faces, confused but eager, waiting for someone to give them something to believe in, a spark of the divine. I will give you a conflagration. I will give you a new name for fire.
Yuri’s joy coursed through him. The boy had been a preacher himself. He understood this exultation.
“Some of you know me,” he said, his voice carrying over the crowd as the light from the setting sun turned golden and washed over their faces. He heard them react to his unfamiliar voice with whispers and gasps. “I am not the man I was. I traveled to the Fold, and there I was visited by the Starless One himself.”
“A vision?” asked Chernov, amid the startled exclamations of the crowd. “What did you see?”
“I saw the future. I saw how we are best meant to serve the cause of the Starless One. And it is not to live as cowards.” Troubled murmurs rose from the pilgrims. “We will not march south. We will not hide from this war.”
Chernov took a step forward. “Yuri, you cannot mean that. We have never troubled ourselves with politicians and their games.”
“This is no game. The Apparat betrayed the Darkling. He fought against naming him a Saint. He allies himself with Ravka’s enemies. But you would go to ground, trembling like animals without teeth or claws.”
“So that we may survive!”
“So that we can run back to a corrupt priest when he joins Demidov’s court? So that we can return to begging for his notice by chanting outside the city gates? We were meant for more.” He met the eyes of those watching him, exchanging angry whispers. “No doubt some of you joined this group for the very purpose of avoiding battle. You didn’t want to pick up a gun, so you put on a robe and carried the Starless banner. I will tell you right now, we do not want you here.”
“Yuri!” cried Chernov. “This is not our way.”
Aleksander wanted to cut him down where he stood, but it was not yet time to show his true power. He’d endured lifetimes of hiding just how strong he was. He could wait a little longer.
He spread his hands wide. “You are afraid. I understand that. You are not soldiers. Neither am I. And yet the Darkling spoke to me. He promised that he would return. But only if we make a stand in his name.”
“What are you suggesting?” Brother Azarov asked, his face fearful.