Divined (29 page)

“Your Highness,” Joheq shouted when they stopped in front of the largest tent. “I apologize for the interruption, but I think there’s someone out here you’d like to see.”

“Go away, Joheq.” Derik’s voice sounded oddly muffled and breathy through the tent. Underneath, Clio could hear someone laughing—no, giggling. “Short of an invasion, there’s nothing worth leaving this tent for tonight.”

“I understand, Your Highness, but I’m holding the Oracle Clio and the commander of Morek’s forces. Shall I leave them outside your door until morning?”

The tent went silent. Derik cursed under his breath, and Zarae murmured something too quiet for Clio to pick up. A moment later, Derik emerged from the tent flaps, a marriage quilt knotted loosely around his waist. His chest was bare, his hair loose and hanging in front of his gray eyes.

“Clio, I—”

“You’re married,” Clio said simply, her gaze sweeping over her friend. He looked different, happier, his posture somehow easier.

“I am. As of sunset.”

Riece was watching Derik closely. “We would have come with gifts if we’d known, but somehow we weren’t invited.”

Derik raised an eyebrow. “Would you have? Neither one of you seemed all that excited when we made our announcement.”

“Why shouldn’t I be happy for your union, brother?” Riece flashed a grin. “I no longer have to worry about who else you might have taken as your bride.”

Derik laughed, and it was a sound Clio hadn’t heard in too long. “As if you had anything to worry about on that score…brother,” he added with a small smile. “No hard feelings about stealing your former betrothed away?”

“That depends. No hard feelings for stealing your former mistress?”

Zarae walked out of the tent dressed in a glittering silk robe. “Please. You two speak as if either of the decisions were up to you.” She looked at Clio. “You and I know better, I think.” Zarae strode up to them, stopping in front of one of the warriors. “Your blade.” She held out her hand.

“Is that wise, my queen?” Derik asked as Zarae took the blade and reached for Clio’s bound wrists.

“This is our wedding. No one should attend in bindings.” Zarae looked Clio in the eye and sliced the ropes from her wrists. “Besides”—Zarae freed Riece then walked back to her husband’s side—“they have nothing left with which to oppose our strength.”

Clio knew she should have been concerned by Zarae’s confidence. Instead, all Clio could think of was the way Derik’s arms wrapped around his bride, the way he kissed her gently, almost absentmindedly.

Her dearest friend, her only family, had found happiness this night, and Clio wasn’t thinking about the war and death that awaited her. She walked up to Derik and cupped his face. “You look happy.” Tears rose in Clio’s eyes. Tears not of grief or pain or fear.

Derik’s eyes softened. “I am.”

“I’m so glad for you. Truly. If I had known this was what you wanted, I—I’m so pleased to be here, to see this—you.” Ealis and Ixie, Derik and Zarae—happiness awaited them. If Clio could defeat her father, if she could break the Order, it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t survive. It would be enough to know the joy her friends would find.

“I’m pleased you’re here, too,” Derik said finally, something almost sad in his eyes. “I wanted you at the ceremony. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s no matter. I’m here now.” Clio grinned and wiped her tears.

“This is all very touching, dearest,” Zarae said, taking Derik’s hand. “But I suspect Clio and Riece didn’t come here to celebrate with us.”

Derik looked out to his men, to the scores of warriors enjoying a final night before battle. “No.” He walked back to his tent, his shoulders set and determined. He held open the canvas flap. “Let us speak.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Their tent was draped with silks and rugs of every color. Candles were lit along the walls, their flames giving off warmth and the scent of lavender. There was a small sitting area in the center of the tent, and Clio tried to hide her blush at seeing the rumpled bed as she took a seat.

Derik offered them plates piled high with the remnants of their wedding feast, and Clio and Riece gratefully accepted, knowing they weren’t likely to see another meal before the war.

“So,” Zarae began, pulling on a heavier robe and taking a seat. “Let us begin the threats.”

“We don’t have any threats.” Clio set down her plate.

“I find that exceedingly impossible to believe.”

“What could we threaten you with?” Riece asked. “We have nothing, as you well know. No men, no throne, no allies. All we have is a plea.”

Derik reached for the wine. “You want us not to attack Morek.”

Riece looked to Clio. “Not to attack, but to defend it.”

Zarae laughed. “You jest.
Defend
Morek? This may be our only chance to free our cities, and you wish us to defend our enemy?”

“The people of Morek are not your enemy,” Clio said quickly.

Derik’s eyes narrowed. “So you
are
one of them after all.”

“Does it matter? I would say the same to Riece if he were planning an invasion on Sheehan.” She turned to Zarae. “Or the Corner.”

“He’s already invaded the Corner, Clio, or have you forgotten? The Empire conquered us all.”

“I didn’t shed blood in your home,” Riece argued, his voice rising. “I saved you. Without me, without the Empire, the Corner would have faltered under the constant attacks of your neighbors. We put an end to that. The Empire brought you peace.”

Zarae scoffed. “Peace. Yes,
thank
you for that, Commander. You conquer us, allow your vile priests into our lands, demand slaves for offerings, and you call
that
peace?”

“That’s the Order, not the Empire,” Clio added.

Derik shook his head. “There’s no difference between the two. There never was, and now I hear an Order priest himself sits on the throne. The Empire
is
the Order.”

“What if it wasn’t?” Riece asked, his voice quiet.

“What do you mean?” Derik studied Riece, then laughed. “You mean yourself? You think
you
could defeat the Order and still hold the Empire?”

“Not just me.” Riece looked around the room at each of them. “But we could. All of us.”

“I have no wish to fall under the Empire’s rule again,” Zarae spat.

“Not under. As equals. I’m speaking of an alliance.”

Derik leaned back, considering. “And we would, what? Command the rest of the Empire together? Conquer more lands? Not all of us wish to expand our reaches and destroy the freedom of others.”

“And you make this decision for all the kingdoms, the cities, the villages in the Empire? The Empire has protected its subjects. Villages that would have succumbed to raiders and bloodthirsty neighbors have been protected by Empire men. Not all have considered our rule such a burden. What will happen to them when you break the Empire? Will you leave them to fall back into constant warfare? Or will you rule over them too?”

“It should be their choice. Not yours. Not ours,” Derik said slowly.

“Perhaps. And as allies we could discuss these matters. We could approach these kingdoms and make them offers, new treaties, grant them new terms. If we break the Order together, we can offer everyone peace.”

Derik hesitated, thinking.

But Zarae wasn’t satisfied. “You speak as though this alliance is something you can offer us. You have nothing.”

“You’re right,” Clio agreed. “But Riece is the heir to the throne. He heads the army. He could take back power if we destroy the Order, and together we can burn every one of their temples to the ground.”

“Again, a pretty dream, Clio.” Zarae’s eyes remained cold. “I’ve exchanged vows with you before. Why should we trust you this time? You have nothing to back up these promises.”

“I’m trying to save your people! The Order is working with a Deity. They plan to sacrifice thousands in a ritual that will give them unprecedented power. If you storm the city, you will only be walking into a massacre.”

Zarae and Derik exchanged a quick look. “And yet you ask us to help defend your city? If this is true, shouldn’t you be advising us to run, to leave Morek to its fate?” Derik asked. “It sounds as though you would sacrifice your own people to save a doomed city.”

“Derik, if we don’t stop the ritual, it won’t matter. Sheehan will fall next. Then the Corner, then Cearo. It won’t stop. But we can work together and prevent this. We can save all our kingdoms.” Riece’s voice shook with emotion.

Zarae laid a hand on Derik’s arm. “No. We can’t help them only to hand power back to the Empire and simply hope that things will be different.”

“It’s not hope,” Riece began. “It’s trust.”

Clio stood, crossed to Zarae and knelt in supplication. “You asked what we had to back up our promises, and the answer is nothing. Nothing but ourselves.” Clio looked up into the young queen’s face. “You once stood before me and showed me how you and I weren’t so different. You were right. We’re not. We both care for our people. It’s because of how alike we are that I trust we can find peace—it’s what we both want after all.” She turned to Derik. “Derik. You are closer to me than my own family. Can’t you find it in your heart to trust me? To give me a chance to make things right? I know you’re looking for certainties, for absolutes. You want your freedom to be guaranteed. But there are no guarantees in this world. The closest we mortals have is trust.”

“Trust,” Derik repeated, his voice soft. He smiled, and Clio knew he would do this for her. There had always been trust between them, even when they each had nothing. But she knew his wife could be the one to hold them back.

Zarae shook her head. “All the risk, all the trust is on our side. You will have staked nothing.” She stood and paced across the room.

Riece took a drink. “How do you plan to get into the city? Your force is too large to enter on this side. The Order would have you pinned.”

“You expect us to tell you?” Derik asked with a laugh.

“The main gate,” Riece answered for himself. “It’s the only way. But you know the Order will have placed their own men as well as the remains of my army there. What if the gate were left open and unguarded for you?”

Zarae stilled. “How?”

“Let me take some of my men back with me. We will be able to join with Morek’s warriors at the gate, and the Order will be stretched too thin across the city to resist.”

“You would open your city to us?”

“If we ask you to help fight the Order, then we must.”

“But how can you be certain we won’t simply turn on you and take the city anyway?”

Riece set down his cup. “We can’t. But I’ll trust your word. Tell me you’ll help us, that you’ll trust this alliance, and I’ll show you trust in return. Instead of fracturing the world, we can remake it.” He rose and took Zarae’s hand. “It would be my greatest honor to align with you. To give both our cities freedom without further bloodshed. Consider it a belated wedding gift.”

Zarae smiled as she took her hand back and walked back to Derik. “Not completely without bloodshed.”

Clio stood. “No. The Order will bleed for this.”

Zarae reached for a glass and lifted it. “For once, something we can all agree on.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

They left the tent, Riece and Derik walking ahead to speak with the men who would accompany Riece back to the gate.

“You think we can stop this great evil you speak of?” Zarae said, taking Clio’s hand as they walked through the still-celebrating warriors.

“The four of us have accomplished the impossible before, haven’t we?” Clio smiled, looking to the mountain peaks above them.

“That we have.”

“Zarae?” Clio spoke after a moment. “You will be good to Derik, right? He’s a better man than I think I ever knew.”

“He is,” Zarae agreed, nodding to the line of warriors who bowed before their queen. “I confess I’m quite happy with him. I didn’t think I would be when we first spoke of it, but…” She turned to Clio. “And what of you and Riece? Can we expect such happiness for you two when this is over?”

Riece and Derik stepped outside of a warrior’s tent, Riece’s arm thrown affably around Derik’s shoulders.
 

“I would like that,” Clio confessed, tearing her gaze from Riece. “If we survive, that is.”

“You have to survive now.”

“And why’s that?” Clio asked. They had stopped outside a small tent.

Zarae grinned. “Because you need to survive and marry Riece so I can come and interrupt your wedding night as you’ve done mine.”

Clio laughed, surprised how easy it was to imagine a ceremony, a celebration much like this one. She wanted to live for that.

“Stay here tonight.” Zarae gestured to the tent and started to walk away, but stopped, something serious settling on her face. “I want to trust you, to believe in this vision of the future you speak of.”

“You can. This peace is more certain than a Vision. I should know, right?”

Zarae laughed. “I suppose you would, Oracle. I’ll see you on the other side of this.” She nodded, then ran across the field into Derik’s open arms.

He smiled at Clio before lifting up his queen and carrying her back into their bridal tent.

Clio searched the crowd, finding Riece among a group of Morek men. When she walked into her tent, she was still smiling, feeling not at all like this was her final night in the mortal world.

If she was to die tomorrow, she was going to make sure she’d done all she’d wanted. She would be happy because she believed what she had told Zarae. The peace she’d helped built this night
would
come to pass. She’d trusted in it more than she had any Vision from the Deities. Clio could die tomorrow. They all could. But for the first time in longer than she could remember, she wasn’t afraid of the future, of what
might
happen. Because that was the truth—the future was only ever a possibility, only ever as certain as Clio believed.

She walked across the tent to a water basin beside the bed. Looking down on her reflection in the dark water, her white hair, her warrior’s clothes, Clio felt like herself. This was who she was.

Her hands were steady as she unbraided her hair and untied each piece of her armor. She walked to the small sleeping mat, dressed in nothing but her plain shift, her hair loose over her shoulders, and waited. Waited for a future she didn’t try to predict.