A taut silence stretched over the thousands, and Harruq saw them glancing at one another. Judarius in particular looked ready to speak, staring eye to eye with the larger Ahaesarus. And then he turned away, spread his wings, and flew out of the forum.
“As I thought,” Ahaesarus said. “All of you, we are to represent the glory of Ashhur and perform his will. This is the best way I know how. Now go. There will be no debate, and I have nothing else to say.”
More rumbling, more discontent. The angels flew away in a great rustle of feathers and noise. Harruq looked across the marble and saw Kevin watching them fly away with a contemplative look on his face. Would this placate the man? Or would such capitulation only provoke him further? An angel came over, took him by the arms, and then they were gone.
Harruq waited, feeling more and more self-conscious as the forum grew steadily quieter. A few flew over to Ahaesarus to assure him of their support, but they were not many. At last they were alone, just Harruq and Ahaesarus. The angel approached, and he looked like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders.
“Do you see why I wanted you here?” he asked.
“Not quite,” Harruq said, shaking his head.
“I wanted you to see this. I wanted you to know the changes we make, changes you must help enforce. We need more judges. We need clearer laws. I want you to tell us what to do with the guilty, and what to do with the repentant. In this, I hope we might better meet the desires of the people compared to the senseless violence we so recently spread throughout the night.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Harruq said, immediately thinking it was something Susan would be far better suited for. More than ever he was glad she’d stayed behind after Antonil’s departure. “Though I wouldn’t expect any miracles.”
“I never do,” Ahaesarus said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t pray they happen. Do you think our actions will provoke a war?”
Harruq crossed his arms and frowned.
“I don’t know,” he said. “If one happens, I’m determined to make sure it doesn’t start on our end. I’ve given up predicting King Henley. If he wants a war, then we’ll have a war, but until he marches into our lands I’m going to do my best to prevent any further provocation.”
Ahaesarus reached for Harruq for the return flight. Before he could, Harruq looked away, feeling embarrassed.
“You saved my brother’s life,” he said. “Thank you.”
“And I think you might save the souls of my angels,” Ahaesarus said. “In that, Harruq, I think I owe you far more than you owe me.”
Harruq laughed.
“Well, in that case, remind me to call you on that sometime. Maybe you can listen to a few hundred petitioners. That might even things up a bit.”
Ahaesarus grinned as they soared into the air.
“Did you not just say to never expect any miracles?”
24
Loreina Henley sat on her throne, her husband’s seat empty beside her. In her lap was a letter, and though she’d read it three times already, she read it a fourth. It didn’t seem it could be true, yet the haggard man before her, plus the wax seal of King Antonil, both insisted it was.
“How far behind you are they?” she asked the messenger.
“We’re marching at the fastest pace we can manage with such little food,” the man said. His clothes were stained with sweat, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “I’d say two weeks at most, your grace.”
Loreina nodded.
“My servants will find you a room and prepare you a bath,” she told him. “I’m sure you’re hungry, and if you’d like to eat before resting, tell them.”
“Thank you, your grace,” he said, bowing low. Servants came, having heard her orders, and ushered the messenger out of the hall. Loreina sat there, tapping the letter against her leg. She read it a fifth time, still unable to contain her excitement.
To friend and king,
The orcs number far beyond what I ever dreamed in my darkest of nightmares. The east crawls with their kind, though that is not the real danger. Someone leads them, someone wise, someone they fear. My men whisper it a demon who survived the Gods’ War. I do not know, but only tell you so you might understand the danger you face on your eastern border. My army is crushed, my supplies ruined. We were ambushed on the way to Angelport, left with retreat as our only option. We come to you now, humbly and afraid, asking for aid and shelter when we reach your lands. My men are already starving, yet we face days of marching until we reach safety.
Whatever aid you offer, I will pay back tenfold. And please, prepare your men. An army of orcs is growing, and I fear their leader will not be satisfied with just the ruins of the east.
Your friend,
King Antonil Copernus.
There was nothing particularly shocking about the letter. They’d long known an orc commander had risen among them, though the idea of it being a war demon was unsettling. And that Antonil had been defeated was no surprise, given his failure years ago in attempting to complete the same fool’s errand. But knowing they were out of provisions, exhausted, begging for aid? Now that was something she could use. It was an opportunity her husband musn’t squander.
“Turn away any petitioners,” she said to her guards as she stood. “I fear I will have far too busy of a day for any more.”
Bram was overseeing his army, as he had ever since the angels attacked in the night. Loreina had watched the battle from the window of her room, and still she had nightmares about it. The way the angels had dashed through their soldiers, slaughtering them as if they were children fighting against men…
She shook her head to clear away such thoughts. Fear was unbecoming of her. Lifting her skirt ever so slightly so she might increase her pace, she stepped out into the courtyard. Despite the hard work of many servants, there were still signs of battle everywhere. It seemed until the next year, when the grass regrew in spring, there would be the red blood staining the green. As for the cobblestones pathways, well, it’d taken three days of scrubbing to make them their original gray, and even then she saw missed spots here and there. Bram had told her the final tally. A hundred and twenty-nine men dead, and in return, they’d killed a paltry eleven angels.
Fear was unbecoming of her, and such failure was unbecoming of their soldiers. And so the men drilled, and plotted, and worked out ways to kill men who flew through the air on pearly wings. As she left the courtyard and entered the training grounds surrounding the barracks, the men halted what they were doing so they might pay their respects. Loreina smiled at them, knowing such small gestures did wonders for morale. In the middle of all the chaos was her husband, arguing with Sir Ian.
“I’m telling you, archers aren’t effective against the angels,” Ian insisted. “Either they dodge them on the way down or outrace them on the way up. It’s only if we can get them on the ground that they’d take the significant casualties necessary to justify the extra training.”
“Not if the volley is large enough that…”
Bram stopped, noticing her presence. Loreina dipped her head in respect, then kissed her husband’s lips.
“A letter,” she said, handing it to him as she pulled away.
“From who?” he asked. His eyes lit up as he saw the name at the bottom. “Oh really?”
Loreina waited as he read it, and was not surprised to see him immediately go over it a second time.
“How long ago did you receive this?” he asked, suddenly looking up.
“A few minutes ago. A messenger came riding in from the east, and our bridge guards escorted him here as fast as they could.”