Age of War

Chapter 24

“I was thinking the same,” Jerl said.

Albrihn had been shying away from that thought, but of course it had occurred to him too. He narrowed his eyes at the horizon. “Betrayal,” he repeated softly. “Rykall.”

Morrow nodded. “He hated you.”

“He did. He resented everything I was. He didn’t trust me. He thought I was unfit to command.”

“He fought you back in Atlas,” she added.

Albrihn shook his head. “But would he do this? Could he turn on loyal soldiers and slaughter them?”

“This is civil war,” Jerl grunted, “it’s not so hard to change your allegiance. Not if you have reason to question the fitness to lead of the one you follow.”

“What are you saying?” he asked her with an arched eyebrow.

She shrugged. “He didn’t like you. He didn’t like the Empress either, I guess. Maybe he thinks Lord Saffron or whatever his name is would be better on the throne.”

“Saffrey,” he corrected absently. He sometimes forgot that others moved in different circles to him. He thought of himself as a common soldier, but now he was a commander, and even before that he was on speaking terms with some of the most powerful nobles and politicians in Atlantis. He knew Saffrey. But to Jerl he was just another lord, as valid a choice for ruler as Vion. All that kept most of the soldiers here on his side was loyalty to their leaders. To sergeants, lieutenants, captains. The chain of command; that’s what made an army what it was. Rykall had already made it clear he didn’t respect it. Was it so hard to imagine he’d throw in his lot with Saffrey entirely?

“So what do we do?” Jerl asked.

“We have to leave. Get back to Atlas and raise the alarm.”

“We can’t leave,” Morrow said.

Albrihn looked down at her. “We have to, captain,” he said gently, “Jerl’s right: it won’t be long until Saffrey’s army comes this way, maybe with Rykall leading from the front. We don’t want to be here in this state when that happens. We need to cross the mountains as fast as we can, regroup back in the city.”

“Hasprit’s still down there,” she said.

Albrihn looked back towards the forest. He’d seen Hasprit smashed from his saddle by that Ankhari barbarian. He’d hit the tree hard and hadn’t moved after he’d landed, but it was possible he’d survived. Just not likely. “Let’s take a walk,” he said to her.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s an order, captain. With me.”

They left Jerl by the stream and picked their way through a tangle of heather and gorse so they were out of earshot of the shattered survivors. There were birds whistling in the nearby trees, but not so many as there should have been. Everything was diminished: dying. It reminded him what was at stake, how this was just one battle in an unfolding cataclysm that he might be powerless to control.

“I know it hurts,” he began.

“You don’t have to say anything. This is my problem.”

“That’s exactly why I have to say something.”

She rubbed a palm against her eyes. “No. I have to be stronger than this.”

“In front of your soldiers, yes. Not in front of me.”

“You’re my commanding officer.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “I’m also your friend, Morrow. Aren’t I?”