Beyond the Shadows - Brent Weeks [197]
Logan got a strange look on his face. “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure he shall.”
Vi was stationed with a hundred and fifty of her Sisters at Black Bridge, almost in the shadow of the great dam, when she realized what that look meant. Logan thought Vi meant Kylar would be here in spirit. Logan still thought Kylar was dead. Stupid, Vi, stupid.
Logan and Garuwashi were astride their mounts in the Great Market as the first rays of dawn revealed the God-king’s armies arrayed across from their own. “They fell for it,” he said. “They must have sent fifteen thousand men to Reigukhas. Last night, they had six thousand more men than we did. Now they have ten thousand less.”
Lantano Garuwashi grinned. “Only two things can undo us now.”
“Magic?”
“And young men so drunk on glory they forget their discipline,” Garuwashi said.
“So when do we attack?” Logan asked.
“Right now.”
* * *
It was still dark in the royal tent. Dorian ran a hand over Jenine’s bare shoulder, down her back, and over her hip. Her beauty made him ache. He shouldn’t have brought her here. It was too dangerous in too many ways. She wasn’t asleep, but she feigned it for him. She knew how he enjoyed her. He inhaled the scent of her hair once more and sat up. He began dressing.
“That army is Cenarian,” Jenine said in the darkness. “Those are my people.”
“Yes,” Dorian said.
“How do I find myself in my enemy’s camp, my lord?”
“Have you ever wondered what would happen if someone threw a war and nobody came?”
“What do you mean?”
“I have no intention of killing any Cenarians,” Dorian said, “though I understand why they won’t believe that. We’re here only to destroy Neph and Moburu. At dawn our emissaries will let the Cenarians know that we will not attack, but I don’t think we have to worry about them. They’ve already taken a defensive position, as have we. They’ll stay until they see us withdraw, and then they’ll go home.”
Jenine stood, and Dorian couldn’t help but glory in her beauty. The familiar panic-edged desire swept over him. He wanted to grab her and make love frantically, right now, as if he might never have a chance to again. But it was almost dawn, there were things he needed to do.
“My people are aggrieved at your father’s predations, and that savage Lantano Garuwashi is with them. They say he bathes in blood. What will we do if they attack? I will be our emissary,” Jenine said. “They will believe me.”
“No!” Dorian said.
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“They will not attack a woman approaching under flag of parley. Besides, better a hazard to me than to forty thousand lives.”
“It’s not that,” Dorian said, thinking furiously. “Your presence might precipitate war, my love. What will Terah Graesin do—even under a flag of parley, if she sees you alive? Your life would be the death of all her power. People will do horrible things to keep what they love, Jenine.” The fact was, if he sent Jenine to Logan, the threat of Cenarian attack would end in one second—and so would his marriage.
Unless . . . what if Jenine chose him? She’d barely known Logan. What Dorian had built with her was . . . real? It’s built on a lie. Oh, Solon, what would you say if you could see me now?
“You’re right, my lord husband. I just wish there were something I could do.”
Dorian kissed her. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.” He stepped through the tent flap and saw a young man sweating, obviously bearing a message for him, and obviously too afraid to wake a Godking. “What is it?” Wanhope demanded.
“Your Holiness. The warchief wishes me to tell you that the attack on Reigukhas was a ruse. Our spies were wrong. The Cenarians outnumber us by more than ten thousand now, and . . . Your Holiness, they’re attacking.”
86
Fighting in these damn robes was going to be a chore, but Vi was glad she hadn’t worn her scandalous wetboy grays. Well, she’d worn them, but under the robes. Going into battle without her grays would be like going into battle with her hair unbound.
A blond man wider than he was tall brought his horse