Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

Konowa spotted Color Sergeant Aguom nearby talking with other soldiers and motioned for him to come over. The sergeant did so at once.

“From your homeland?” Konowa asked, pointing to the soldiers of the 3rd Spears.

“They are from an island nearby mine, but our tribes are friendly,” Sergeant Aguom said.

“Why aren’t they with their regiment?”

“They came here last night escorting carriages. They were supposed to return to their camp down by the docks this morning, but with this crowd, they can’t get through without a fight.”

“Just as well. Fine, tell them to stay here and wait for orders. I’m sure things will calm down. They can wait it out here when we leave for the desert.”

“They want to come with us.”

Konowa waved his hand. “Their colonel would not be thrilled to know we’d absconded with fifty of his men.”

Sergeant Aguom wasn’t to be deterred. “The want to see the Star, Major. They want to be there when it returns. They heard the stories about Luuguth Jor and they want to see this one.”

“At potential risk to their lives? Why?”

“Our legends talk of a Star of Knowledge guiding the elders of our islands many centuries ago. They want to see with their own eyes if this one is real. If it is, then there is hope for my people, too,” Sergeant Aguom said, his voice dropping away as the full meaning of the words registered.

“Would your people rebel?” Konowa asked. The world kept shifting under his feet. He was finally starting to comprehend just how widespread the desire to be rid of the Empire really was.

“They simply want to chart their own course in the world. The Stars offer that chance. What people would refuse such a gift?”

Konowa shook his head. “You know it’s real. You were at Luuguth Jor. Tell them.”

“I did,” the sergeant said, “and it has only made them more determined to come with us.” He paused for a moment as if considering how to say the next sentence. “They are willing to take the Blood Oath to join us.”

Konowa wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. “They what?”

“They’ll take the oath. They are brave warriors. For them, there is great honor in sacrifice. They see that the Iron Elves are losing soldiers, and no new recruits are coming. And they know that where you are, the Star will fall.”

“I admire their spirit, but this isn’t the time. Thank them for the offer, but tell them no.” Konowa saluted and waited for the sergeant to do the same.

Color Sergeant Aguom stood his ground. “If this costs me my stripes, then so be it. Sir, if they are refused, they will desert their regiment and follow us anyway. They see it as…their destiny.”

“Their destiny? How in blazes did they come to that conclusion? If they hadn’t noticed, this regiment is called the Iron Elves. Elves! This is my regiment, and when I find my elves everything will be right again.” Blood pounded in Konowa’s ears. “How dare they presume to claim this as their destiny.”

“Your elves stand all around you, sir. An Iron Elf stands in front of you now…or am I less a soldier in your eyes because my ears do not have points?”

A cold, black anger welled up in Konowa. In the back of his mind, he heard his mother and Visyna pleading with him. This was not the way.

But in an even deeper place inside himself he heard Her voice.

She understood.

The Shadow Monarch knew the importance of the elves. She fully realized the bond Konowa felt with them.

With an effort that caused him to grit his teeth, Konowa pushed the anger back down. Lightheaded, he swayed on his feet. Wiping some sweat from his eyes, he looked again at Color Sergeant Aguom. “Sergeant, you have my apologies. Every soldier matters to me. Every single one. If these men want to join us and see the return of a Star, I will not stand in their way. I’ll handle it with the Prince that there are no repercussions. But understand this: I will not administer the oath to them. They can come with us, fight alongside us, and chase whatever glory and honor they desire, but I will not subject them to the oath. Is that clear?”

Sergeant Aguom beamed. “I thank you, on behalf of all of them. They will not let you down, sir.” He saluted, and without waiting for Konowa to return it, turned and ran over to the waiting soldiers. A loud cheer broke out a moment later.

Konowa shook his head. The Prince approached, looking at maps held by two corporals who were walking backward so the Prince could study the terrain as he walked. He looked up when he heard the commotion and, dismissing the map carriers, came back over to Konowa.

“I shouldn’t think there’s much to cheer about,” the Prince said, tapping his sword scabbard against the top of his leather riding boot.

“I didn’t think so either, but apparently they’re eager to get out of the city,” Konowa said, choosing not to reveal the real reason. “They’ve volunteered to come with us into the desert.”

Konowa waited, wondering if the Prince would see this as an affront to his authority or a boost to his ego.

“They volunteered to serve directly under me, knowing we’re almost certainly going into battle?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what they did.”

Prince Tykkin drew in a breath and stood up a little straighter. He drew his sword from its scabbard, lifted it into the air, and turned to the soldiers of the 3rd Spears. “Well done, lads!”

The soldiers cheered in response, breaking out in a war chant in their native tongue. Spears and muskets were raised in the air. Several soldiers of the Iron Elves standing nearby looked at them with varying degrees of confusion and annoyance.

Konowa noticed that at the sound of raised voices from the 3rd Spears, the growing crowd outside the palace grew silent. He looked through the palace gate and was amazed to see the citizens of Nazalla leaving in a hurry. The reputation of the warriors of the Timolia Islands was clearly known even here.

“Best we get moving, sir, while we can,” Konowa said.

The Prince lowered his sword and resheathed it, his face aglow. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Still, I think we’ll let them enjoy this moment a little longer. Who knows what the day brings? We’ll be hard-pressed to make it out of Nazalla in one piece, let alone get through the desert.”

The tone in the Prince’s voice suggested otherwise, which meant he must have worked something out. “Sir? Do you have a plan to get us out of the city without having to go to war with the civilians in it?”

“My proclamation was clear enough,” the Prince said.

Konowa’s heart raced. “Sir, they’re civilians. It’d be a slaughter. There has to be another way.”

The Prince looked at Konowa as a mother would, comforting her child. Konowa’s stomach churned.

“There is, Major, there is. Come now, you don’t think I’d really send the regiment out to murder innocents, now do you?”

Konowa didn’t trust himself to answer. Luckily, the Prince made the question rhetorical as he kept talking.

“Not to fret, Major,” the Prince said, “I’ve already negotiated our safe passage. Get the regiment formed up, we’re moving out in ten minutes.” Then the Prince did the most unexpected thing. He smiled at Konowa, reached out, and punched Konowa good-naturedly in the shoulder before turning and walking away.

Konowa stood rooted to the spot for several seconds. “What the devil was that all about?”

“The devil, you say?” said the Suljak of the Hasshugeb Expanse, appearing at Konowa’s side. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”

Konowa looked down at the old man. “You’re helping us?”

The Suljak looked surprised. “I’ve been presented with a golden opportunity to escort the Iron Elves out of Nazalla and deep into the heart of the desert, and all without further risk to the lives of the local populace. Why wouldn’t I help?”