A Shield of Fate and Ruin (Apollo Ascending Book 3), page 19
“I probably shouldn’t have asked you to come in here. I’m sorry… I’m…”
“Grieving,” he said, as he stepped in closer. “Of course.”
My lip trembled, my throat stinging, like tears might fall again. I wondered if hurt ever truly went away, or if it shaped a person, changed them, left them marked for life. I bowed my head as tears slipped down my face. Gods, how could I deal with all of this alone? I needed a friend or my brothers or someone. But here I was in a strange house in an unfamiliar city, in the middle of political upheaval.
Galeson hesitated for a moment, but then he closed the space between us and wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head on his shoulder and sobbed, breathing in his bright, spicy smell. He rubbed a hand in a circle over my back, and I pressed myself against him, like touching someone else might keep me from falling.
When my tears dried up, I lifted my face. “Gods… You say you’re the one who makes a fool of yourself in front of me, but look at me right now.”
In the morning sunlight, the texture of his shaved jaw glimmered, rougher than his flesh appeared from a distance. He brushed his hands over my curls, and I shivered from the intimacy. “I am looking at you, and I see nothing foolish in the least.”
For a moment we remained still, our breaths trembling against each other’s cheeks. He leaned down, slowly, hesitantly, his nose brushing mine. I should have pulled back, should have turned away.
But I was so desperate for the comfort of someone’s touch.
I leaned in, let our lips brush.
Galeson melted in towards me, his hand sweeping down to the lower part of my back. When our lips peeled apart, I gasped and took a step away.
Galeson’s face paled. “I’m sorry. You’re grieving… of course… I shouldn’t have taken advantage…”
“You didn’t, it’s…”
I cleared my throat.
What could I say?
I’m in love with someone else? I just betrayed him? But I don’t want to hurt you because you’re lovely and kind and I think—if it wasn’t for him—I could fall for you. And that makes me feel guilty for both of you and ashamed.
I brushed my fingers over the robe. “You’re right… I’m grieving and… I shouldn’t have invited you in here when I’m not even dressed and… everything.” His eyes grazed down my robe, but then snapped back up to my face. “I’m sorry, Gale. You’ve been so kind to me.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.” His head drifted towards his shoulder, and he offered me a gentle look that made me feel guilty down to the tips of my toes. “Is there anything I could do for you?”
I turned away from him, facing a window that overlooked a fountain that trickled water that gleamed like silver paint over the contours of its stone form. “I’m sure you’re busy today.”
“I’m not. I’m taking the day off.”
I released a puff of a breath that fogged the pane of glass. “How can you do that when the army leaves tomorrow?”
He stepped beside me, his footsteps echoing against the carpet. He stayed far enough away that a gap of space lingered between us. “We’ve already made every decision involving the war that we can.” He shifted his face towards me. “And the king of Niria has passed.” I took a shaky breath as he continued speaking. “More importantly, your father has passed. Everyone understands and those who don’t can kindly fuck off.”
My breath caught, and his ears pinkened, as if he wondered if he had misread me and had offended me. I laughed then, right down to my stomach. “I agree, actually.”
“Well, then…” He shrugged. “What could I do for you today? We’ll have the fallout of this battle to deal with soon, but that can keep until then. We’ll pretend that won’t happen for now.”
I considered that, traced my finger through the lingering condensation on the window. Where the world continued to carry on as if nothing had changed. How I longed to hug Father one more time, to listen to him speak and laugh at his jokes.
“I mean… if it’s not too much trouble…” I bit my lip. “I would love it if you’d read my father’s letters out loud again.” Tears stung my eyes. “I… I want to hear his words.”
Galeson nodded. “I’d be happy to.”
I gestured to them where they sat in a stack on a table by a couch. Galeson walked over and lowered into the seat before picking one up and brushing his thumb over the parchment with reverence.
And so I spent the afternoon listening to the smooth sound of his voice as I paced across the rugs, tears spilling over my face.
And for those few hours, I pretended none of the troubles existed. That Hyacinth and Apollo hadn’t undertaken a dangerous voyage, Temi and Valerian didn’t prepare for battle, my brother hadn’t scorned me, I hadn’t kissed Galeson.
For a moment in time, I was just a daughter grieving for her beloved father.
26
Artemis
Arion snuffled, reaching down to snag clumps of grass to eat. I patted his shoulder. Some horses that soldiers had lined up to march tossed their manes and jostled their riders, irritated with the sloughing rain. But not Arion—my sea stallion. He flicked his tail as happily as a dog offered a bone.
The weather had been strange again.
It had me worried.
About Apollo.
Could something have happened to him and Hyacinth?
But, no… somehow I felt I would sense that. I would know the world no longer held him.
But my grief over Magnes—a valley that had sunk me the previous days—ached through me and left me wary and sorrow-ridden.
I grabbed Arion’s reins and jumped onto his bare back over his fur that stretched in dark streaks from the rain. Orion trotted over on his horse. “Made all of your last-minute prayers?”
I side-eyed him. “Do you see me as religious?”
“You’re not?”
I scoffed. “Hardly. Who would I pray to? My brother? Not fucking likely.”
Asher called out, organizing the lines, the army a haze of navies and greens and grays under the wash of the storm. Orion pulled a hat lower over his brow, the rim of it keeping the rain off his face. “You seem a strange candidate to be non-religious, but I can respect that.”
“And you don’t strike me as the type to foster deep spiritual devotion.”
He grinned. “May we keep surprising each other.”
I huffed a laugh, but the sounds of the army, thousands of voices and hundreds of clattering hooves, swallowed it. “So what god do you patronize? Do you mind me asking?”
“Ack. I don’t mind, but I don’t worship the gods of Olympus or the west.”
“Something we have in common, then.”
He tipped his hat, water spilling down his arm. “If the stars allow me to outlive this war, perhaps I’ll make an exception and offer some dedications in your honor when you ascend.”
I groaned. “If you have any respect for me at all, please do not do that.”
He laughed and swiped rain off the neck of his horse.
Another group of riders galloped up and stopped behind us, all donning the royal colors of Niria, with elegant stitching on their saddle blankets and clothing. In the center of them, Emrin sat. His features hardened as he faced the world.
Orion and I exchanged a look. None of the kings or governors had planned to go into this battle. The strategists had decided that we should get a feel for what we dealt with before they risked themselves.
Another horse clattered up and Delon settled beside Emrin, who shifted towards him. “You’re not supposed to come on this,” Emrin said.
Delon shrugged. “Neither are you.” Delon looked at me, a worried expression on his face, but I’d gotten used to his mannerisms in the last months of his friendship with Apollo and I knew he had set his mind on going.
Emrin frowned. “You could get yourself killed.”
“Oh, and you won’t?”
Emrin straightened, his cape whipping out behind him even as the rain peppered against it. “A king should not send men to die in his stead. I’m doing what needs to be done for Niria.”
“And what happens if they lose another king?”
Emrin glowered, menace crawling over him. “I did not ask for you to advise me. Return to the city at once.” His lip curled. “That’s an order.”
Delon darted his eyes to me again and then snorted as he turned back to Emrin. “Let me tell you something, you may be the king to the rest of these fuckers out here, but you’re just Hyacinth’s little nappy-wearing brother that followed us around to me. You think you intimidate me?” Delon barked a laugh with no humor in it. “You can’t order me around, Em, no matter how far your head is up your ass anymore.”
Emrin’s nose wrinkled. “I could have you arrested.”
Delon shifted on his horse so that he faced him more fully and leaned in closer. “Do it, then.”
They stared at each other for so long that the army began to move, the thumping, rhythmic sound tangling in with the rush of the rain. Emrin sniffed. “Fine. Get yourself killed if you wish.” He thrusted with his chin at his guards, and they trotted forward, their horses’ hooves squishing the ground.
Delon’s stallion gave his head a shake, droplets flinging out of his mane as they rode up alongside me and Orion. I clenched my fingers into the reins, my nails biting into my palms. “What the fuck is he thinking?”
Delon frowned. His gaze shifted out to where Emrin and his party blurred into the muck of the weather. “He isn’t. I think he’s lost himself.” Delon brushed his arm across his face, his curls sticking to his neck.
“So he’s marching into a fucking battle?”
Delon winced as he nudged his heels into his horse’s side to move forward. “It’s stupid. I won’t argue with you. And probably more foolish for me to come as well. But Asher has already laid out the plans. No one expects to have to watch a king’s back during this.”
“You’re not trained for combat.”
Delon lowered his face. “I know. But I can’t stand by and do nothing. And I am a decent shot.” He grinned. “You have to give me that much.”
“You’re all right,” I deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes. But I shifted towards Orion, who studied us both, a look of concern on his brow. The soldiers of his unit marched behind him.
Orion hesitated a moment before nodding. “We’ll try to see if we can rearrange our group to be closer to Emrin. Do you think Asher could talk some sense into him?”
“I’m not sure anyone can talk some sense into him currently,” Delon said. “I’m afraid he’s going to need it knocked into him.”
Discomfort weaved its way into my muscles.
A battle could certainly provide that.
But the country needed him alive.
And I suspected Epiphany, and Hyacinth did too. They loved him, and he needed to survive long enough to overcome this mire of stupidity he muddled in. And, further, Niria’s laws only allowed succession to male heirs. If something happened to Emrin and Hyacinth no longer qualified, what would that mean for the country? I groaned in frustration. Was anyone in this godsdamn army actually thinking about the bigger picture, or was everyone just focused on showing off their prowess? I breathed through my teeth, and Orion turned towards me, a question in his eyes.
Well, there was him, at least.
He—for all his swagger—differed from the rest in some way I hadn’t defined yet.
But it did comfort me, having him at my side for this confrontation.
By the time we’d reached the wide-open valley where the other army waited, crimson flags whipping out on the breeze, the rain had stopped, but everyone’s clothing had sopped through with moisture, fabric sticking to armor. The horses, slick with the damp, stamped their feet in annoyance.
Valerian would have opinions on that.
Asher broke from the party and rode out to a mid-point between the two armies as some leader from the other side met him. Orion leaned over and scratched his fingers over his beard. “They’re going to parley, see if they can call off the battle through conversation.”
“Chances of that happening?”
“There’s always a chance for anything.”
“So, that’s your optimistic way of saying not a fucking shot in the world?”
He chuckled, his eyes wrinkling. Only he could laugh so full heartedly like that, moments before facing down thousands of soldiers and potentially his death. “I’m not sure that’s the turn of phrase I’d choose, but that sounds about right, yeah.”
I rolled my eyes. Arion trembled under me, his body shifting, like he absorbed the anticipation and tension of the surrounding world. I tangled my fingers into his seaweed-like mane. “Easy, boy. Not yet.”
He calmed under my voice, but his bright eyes dashed about, taking in the ocean of soldiers standing beneath a gray sky.
Asher turned back and his horse picked up into a gallop.
He thrusted his hand into the air.
So talking didn’t work.
How fucking unexpected.
The armies surged forward, the foot soldiers at the front marching towards each other, their steps a thunder that matched my heartbeat.
I sucked in my breath, and ice ran down my arms.
A peppering of rain began again, and I blinked it away.
The horses all twitched and stomped their hooves, like the tension was a living thing hovering through the air, which they inhaled in great breaths. But the riders would wait until the armies met to join. I slid my bow off my back, the smooth wood gliding beneath my fingers.
Horses startled, someone yelled, and then Emrin broke out from the melee, galloping towards the lines of soldiers. Their marching form fell apart as he pushed through them. Asher turned his mount in our direction, anger giving way to shock as he watched the king of Niria dash through the lines. A moment later, Delon dashed after Emrin, fury in his eyes.
For a breath, I watched them go, and then I turned to Orion. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Orion looked uncertain.
And that sank in my stomach. He was always so easygoing and sure of everything, even facing down death. But now a doubt lingered in his expression. He sighed, shouting at his second to take over, and lifted his reins. “No idea, but let’s follow behind him. One man isn’t enough to cover him.”
I nodded and urged Arion forward. He whinnied, eager to finally move after the anticipation of sitting and waiting for so long. “You have your spear, right?”
Orion reached down and snatched it from its holder on the other side of his horse, clutching it under his thick fingers.
“All right.” My voice undulated as Arion bounced, his hooves clattering into the ground. “This is my idea. I’ll use the bow. You stop anyone who gets too close.”
“Sounds good.”
We rushed past the foot soldiers, who startled again. This fiasco of not following the plan and breaking form was likely throwing them all off and would cause casualties. I hissed between my teeth as wind and sweat and rain slicked across my brow. “I don’t know what he is fucking thinking, but if he doesn’t die from this godsdamn stupidity, I’m going to chew his ass out.”
Orion grinned—a strange reaction when thundering uncovered towards an army so massive it looked like a flock of birds weaving through the sky. “You have an arsenal of colorful language.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the half of it. And when we rescue Emrin’s worthless ass, he will.”
Orion laughed and then leaned closer to his stallion, urging him forward as we reached Delon and Emrin right as they absorbed into the pulsing, breathing mass of the soldiers of Ansair.
Emrin lifted his sword, his horse rearing back with nervous energy. Rain swept over the valley, heavy and thick, the ground turning to a slush of grass and mud. Emrin whipped his blade out, knocking soldiers down. Delon’s jaw ticked, but he pulled his bow out and fired arrows as rapidly as I’d ever seen him.
The battle was a cacophony of marching, thundering, clashing, splattering, whizzing, screaming, dying noises. I wished I could turn my hearing off, close my eyes, not exist anymore if this is what the world has come to.
But I had a mission at hand.
Orion and I pulled the reins of our stallions and Delon shifted his gaze to us, his expression almost relieved before he returned to his task. I lifted my bow. And blocked everything out—the pelting rain, the coppery smell of blood already permeating the air, the miserable cries of fallen horses—and I focused on one thing only. Hitting my mark.
And I’d always been a damn good shot.
The arrows whistled across the plain like birds of destruction. Every single one hit the soft spot between the soldier’s helmets and the chest plates of their armor. They fell in clumps, their bodies stepped over by more soldiers who pushed forward.
I tried not to think about how young they were, how some still had baby faces and terrified eyes. But my heart hurt anyway.
So much destruction and loss.
For what?
For gods and rich men’s greed. For this idea of patriotism that would do nothing but see them die in a foreign land, never embrace their mothers or fathers again, kiss their partners, hug their children.
We did nothing here but fill the underworld with lives spent too soon.
And that made me furious.
Which drove my arms to move faster, my shots to hit stronger.
Because there was not a damn thing I could do but protect those I loved, protect Niria in memory of King Magnes, and for Epiphany and Hyacinth.
Men surged forth, so many that mine and Delon’s arrows couldn’t keep them all at bay. They encroached near Emrin, who already had a sheen of sweat over his face and exhaustion to the set of his shoulders. Orion tossed me his horse’s reins, which I snagged and tied to Arion as he jumped down, spear in hand.
I’d seen Orion practice.
But this was different.
Where humor normally lit his eyes, a gentle smile peeling over his lips, his expression held nothing but focus and darkness. He moved with the grace of a cat, though he towered over most of the soldiers.
