“I believe…” Kieran squinted. “About fifteen thousand.”
I swallowed. “That’s all?”
“It’s more than I expected,” Casteel noted, biting into the first berry he picked from the bowl without paying much attention to it.
His comment surprised me. He’d spent time with the men when he was a Rise Guard. “But those are mortals, many who came from the poorest areas of each city and joined the Crown Guard as a way to escape poverty or were given no choice,” I reasoned. “You know they didn’t lift their swords out of love for the Blood Crown.”
“That may be true for many of them.” Casteel’s fingers absently traced the stem of his glass. “But you know they were raised to fear Atlantians—entire generations of their families told lies. We are their enemies and have yet to prove that we are different or show what our rule means.”
And if we lost our hold on Carsodonia, other Ascended and those who support Kolis would rise to take Isbeth’s place. All who renounced the Blood Crown would then face repercussions, both for themselvesandtheir families.
“But it goes deeper for many, even those treated the most unfairly by the Blood Crown.” His fingers stilled, and his gaze met mine. “They were still bound by the oath they made—an oath to their kingdom that gave them a purpose. An identity. To them, disavowing the Blood Crown meant disavowing an intrinsic part of who they are. For many, that is all they have.”
Taking in what he’d said, my hands lowered to my lap, and I sat back. Several moments passed as I stared at the food on my plate. “I didn’t expect everyone who stood against us to suddenly standwithus. I just…”
“You just don’t want to see lives lost unnecessarily,” Casteel finished, and I nodded. “They weren’t.”
My gaze shot back to him.
“Those who violently or…aggressively refused to swear allegiance to Atlantia had to be dealt with, but the others who simply refused? Minds are not impossible to change.” Casteel took a sip. “They may have chosen wrong now, but they could choose differently in the future. We,” he said, glancing at Kieran, “knew you would’ve wanted to give them a chance.”
I exhaled roughly, relieved and so damn lucky to have them both. “I do,” I said, knowing they would also want to give the mortals a chance in place of senseless slaughter.
“The soldiers could not be left to roam freely,” Kieran said.
“Obviously,” I murmured, my brow furrowing as Casteel reached over and nudged my plate. It hit me when I picked up my fork. Had they been sent to the mines? My grip tightened. Yes, some willinglychoseto work the mines, which was using the wordwillinglyliberally, but it did pay better than other jobs. Prisoners weren’t generally paid by the Blood Crown, though. And those who were sent to the mines as punishment were forced to provide backbreaking—and often deadly—freelabor. I seriously doubted there had been time to sift through the Royal Treasury to see what coin might be there to pay those sent to the mines. No minds would be changed that way. “Please tell me they weren’t sent to the mines in the Elysium Peaks.”
“They were given a choice,” Kieran began. “The mines or Harrowfeld.”
Harrowfeld was more of a penal colony than an actual city, located in the Niel Valley and closer to Three Rivers than the Willow Plains and Ironspire, where the citadel and military dormitories were located. If Harrowfeld was an option, that meant General La’Sere had either seized it before arriving in Carsodonia or after I went into stasis.
Something else occurred to me then. “How are the prisons in Atlantia? I never asked about that.”
“Not nearly as bad as those you’ll find in Harrowfeld,” Casteel said, which came as no shock. “We have more of a…rehabilitation approach for those capable of such, with several smaller colonies instead of one larger one. They’re normally stationed in or around our farming lands, which allows them to learn while serving their time.”
“And are they paid for the work they do?”
“They are given a fair amount.” A faint smile appeared on Casteel’s lips.
“I know you probably don’t like sending them to the mines or Harrowfeld,” Kieran said, sliding his fork back and forth over his plate. “But at this point, that is the best we can do. Once things are settled, we can revisit the entire penal system.”
Exhaling slowly, I nodded. That was not something we could undertake while at war with the true Primal of Death. “So, that leaves the Blood Crown with roughly fifty thousand soldiers, right?”
“Give or take a few thousand,” Casteel said.
“What about the Royal Knights?”
“We have yet to uncover the exact numbers, even after checking those held at Ironspire. We only know that Isbeth claimed there were several thousand.” Kieran’s fork stilled. “Whether that is true or not is unknown, but it seems the remaining armies likely escaped north.”
“To Pensdurth? The port city isn’t large enough to house that many soldiers.” The moment I finished speaking, I tensed. “Masadonia.”
“It’s possible,” Kieran said quietly and then straightened. “So, we need to consider all of that when deciding whether to send the generals back. I think we have to assume that the remaining armies now belong to Kolis. If I were him, I would aim for the most valuable cities. Beyond the capital, OakAmbler, Pensdurth, and Masadonia, I would set my sights on Whitebridge.”
“And not Three Rivers?” I asked, surprised.
“Three Rivers may be larger, but to many, it sits on the cusp of civilization,” Casteel said, lifting his glass. “With little else to be protected or gained, the farther southeast one goes. That’s not to say they aren’t aware of Spessa’s End. We know they are, but moving an army east would be noticed.”
“Unless they moved them from Masadonia,” I pointed out.
