Page 392 of Of Empires and Dust
Mera shook her head. “They politely declined.”
“I will see them after this.”
“I’ll go with you.”
As the plates were cleared from the table, Rinek Larka sat forwards. “My queen. What are we to do if Loren does not wish to negotiate?”
Alina knew precisely what Rinek’s words actually meant: what are we to do if Dayne is already dead and Loren is ready for battle?
“We do what we have always done, Rinek. We face what is in front of us with courage in our hearts.”
“We lay siege,” Narek Vakira declared, slapping his empty cup against the table. “We lay siege, and we tear Achyron’s Keep to the ground. Then we mount the traitors’ heads on spikes across the Hot Gates for any that might dare follow.”
Alina raised an eyebrow at Tula Vakira, who simply gave a choked laugh at her son’s words. Alina and the head of House Vakira argued more often than even she and Dayne, but the woman was direct, blunt, and fair. Those were qualities Alina needed at her side, regardless of whether they grated on her.
“Calm your fires, son.” Tula sat back in her chair and took a long draught of her wine.
“Calm?” Anda Deringal shot upright, glaring at Tula, her fingers white around her cup. “Reinan Sarr and those traitors killed my aunt. They butchered Vhin and Sara. I will not be calm. I want their heads!”
Savrin, who had been standing in the back, glanced at Alina, but she shook her head. The night Senya and the others had been slaughtered, Anda had been but a timid girl, more used to dresses and dancing at sunset than spears and blood. And yet since that night, she had hardened. She had earned her third markings of spear and sword and been the first to volunteer for every assault. She had found the bottom of her cup this night, and Alina would not begrudge her that.
“To be calm does not mean to be timid.” Alina sat forwards and rested on her arms. “But rushing head-on into a battle where we are vastly outnumbered will do nothing but see more of our kin entering Achyron’s halls.”
“Then what do you propose we do… Your Grace.” Anda added the honorific with a touch of realisation in her voice, her eyes sobering.
“I too would like to hear what this plan is.” Savira Herak had seen thirty summers and bore four rings of the blade. She was hard as iron and just as rigid. “We march on a keep legendary for its walls. We are vastly outnumbered, and the Lorians have brought Battlemages. I’ve seen the death when warriors try to storm the walls of a fortress. Each defender may as well be ten. Had the reinforcements Aeson Virandr promised arrived, I would say we stood a chance. But what now? What hope do we have?”
Murmers spread about those gathered. Some agreeing with Savira, others arguing. One of the Wyndarii commanders was on her feet, hurling insults at the head of House Rudain.
“Our queen has not led us astray so far,” Kirya of House Tallic called out, her voice swallowed by the arguing. “We have over seven hundred wyverns. All of Valtara is finally?—”
“Oh, stop your rambling.” The Head of the Minor House Joral rolled his eyes and emptied his cup. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how many wyverns we have when Loren has a hundred Battlemages and outnumbers us two to one. All we?—”
“Silence!” Joros threw his cup across the table, pushed his chair back, and stood. The man’s hands trembled, and he stared at the ground, shaking his head. Joros had served in the Redstone guard for as many years as Alina had been alive. She trusted him completely. And her heart ached for everything he had lost.
Not a whisper left a single pair of lips as Joros’s fist clenched and unclenched at his side, patches of sweat tacking his tunic to his muscular frame. He drew a long breath and lifted his gaze, glaring at all those sat about the table. “Alina Ateres is our queen. That I need remind you all of this simple fact is a sign of your ignorance and the arrogance that matches it.”
Vhin Herak’s son made to speak but silenced himself after a cold stare from Joros.
“Queen Alina Ateres,” Joros repeated. “Let those words sink into your thick skulls. Queen.Ourqueen. A Valtaran queen for the first time in centuries. Freedom is within our grasp, and it is Alina who has brought us here. Alina who has united so many of the Houses and rides as First of the Wyndarii. If those at this table do not show her the respect she has rightfully earned in blood and sacrifice, then I will take it upon myself as High Commander of the queen’s armies to teach you that respect.”
Joros walked across the silent tent, collected his cup, and set it back down on the table. Slowly, he poured the wine.
“You are warriors of Valtara,” he said, placing his palm over the mouth of the cup. “If your queen says that we lay siege toAchyron’s Keep, then that is what we do. If she says that we scale the walls with nothing but our bare hands, thenthatis what we do. If Achyron himself stands guard over the keep, then we will cut him down and dance on his corpse. Dayne Ateres lies on the other side of those walls. Do you not think he would break the gates down himself if any of you were in his place? He is Andurios. He is the champion of Valtara. And I would rather die than leave him in Loren Koraklon’s hands. I lost my dear wife, my sons, my daughters – I lost everything at Myrefall – and I would see those treacherous bastards bleed into the earth for what they have taken from me. If Aeson Virandr arrives in time, all the better. But if he does not, then we will fight like Valtarans, and if needs be, we will die like Valtarans. But I will not live another day with a Lorian blade to my neck.”
Joros looked to Alina and pressed his hand to his chest. “I, Joros of House Myr, High Commander of the Valtaran armies, vow to follow my queen to the depths of the void. I vow to stand steadfast by her side, to fight in her name, to carry her banner, and to lay waste to her enemies. I vow to answer whenever she may call. The Warrior and The Sailor. By blade and by blood. I am yours, my queen. From this day until my last day.”
Amari and Lukira followed Joros, the Wyndarii captains joining. And as they spoke the same words, so too did Anda Deringal and Kirya Tallic, and Rinek Larka and the heads of the other Minor Houses.
Tula Vakira stood, looking to Alina, her lips spreading into a thin but warm smile. “I’m too long in the tooth for vows. My time left is my own. But I truly believe that Queen Alina Ateres would do anything to bring the Houses of Valtara together, to unite us under one banner – strong and fierce. The Lorians have stood over us for so long because we have been divided, weak. But when we fight shield to shield, the wyvern of House Ateres next to the raven of House Vakira, the bull of House Deringal, thestallion of House Herak… we are more than the sum of our parts. I believe it is most certainly time for the rest of Epheria to once again fear the blademasters of Valtara.” She grabbed her cup and raised it. “We are Valtarans! Long live the Wyvern Queen!”
“Long live the Wyvern Queen!”
As the chants settled, Alina pushed her chair back slowly, the wood creaking. When she stood, silence fell, the others still standing with her.
“My parents wanted nothing but the freedom of our home. They fought and died for that freedom. It was Loren Koraklon who sent them to their deaths, who hung them in the plaza for all to see. You have all faced your own losses, your own heartbreak. Our people have been fighting for generations. The other nations lay down and suckled on the Lorian teat, prayed at the altar of the lion. But not us. No. Valtaran blood runs hot. We are bronze, and steel, and scales, and we willnotbe bowed.”
Alina drew a long, slow breath through her nostrils, exhaling as she cast her gaze around the tent.
