Page 149 of Shadow Queen
She shook her head. “No, not at all.”Not at all. “In fact, he makes me feel safe where I struggle to manage my own morality. But Mikael, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”
“And I’m grateful for it,” he breathed as he wrapped his arms around her.
But what would they do now?
Chapter forty-five
Thesmallgroupofsoldiers made their way through the foothills of Moray, a Mercian township in the outer reach of the kingdom. Word had come that it had been attacked, and they traveled to investigate. Alexander looked back at the men following behind him—about fifty. How strange to lead a group of Shadowmen through Mercia. He’d been sent two thousand Shadow warriors, much more than he had expected, yet still not enough to keep the North protected. But he couldn’t ask for more.
The Shadow captain rode ahead of him, and he watched her. Two months she’d been in Mercia. She hadn’t tried to kill him yet—at least, not that he knew of. But her eyes occasionally threatened it. Her words had lost some of their harshness, though, he noticed. Perhaps her hate had cooled a bit.
She’d shown herself to be smart, quick, strong, and decisive—a good captain. A good captain for the lord commander, he reminded himself, which would make her a bad captain for Mercia. Still, perhaps his own hate had cooled a bit too.
“Another one,” the Shadow captain called to him, and he shifted his attention back. He followed her motion to the ground, where he saw a downed winterhawk. They’d found one of them shot already, and two more the day before.
“Someone doesn’t like hawks,” she said as she gazed at the dead animal on the ground. The Shadow woman slid off her mount and kicked over the carcass of the bird, then she bent down and pulled an arrow from its chest. She looked at it closely and shook her head. “I don’t recognize it,” she said, holding out the arrow for Alexander.
Alexander took it, eying the tip. It was smooth, sharp, well fashioned, and barbed on the edges for maximum damage. Wings at the base prevented it from being easily pulled from flesh. These were dangerous arrows, and they came from dangerous men.
“Inventive, though,” she said, her eyes smiling. “I think I’d like to meet these men.”
Alexander wondered what she looked like under her head wrap, what all the Shadowmen looked like. It felt strange not to know the faces of those whose company he kept so often lately. But he knew the captain’s eyes—large and dark. Powerful.
He shifted his focus back to the arrow.
“Smoke,” a soldier called out, and they looked to see a dark plume rising just south over the hills.
They reached the village of Moray, and it stood as the others did—in smoldering ruins. Bodies hung from bars above the gates, the victims’ faces swollen and blue. The dead littered the streets. The captain called out in the Shadow tongue, and the men set to work, pulling the bodies down and dragging them to a pyre. Mercian bodies needed to be burned to pass to the next world—all except kings and queens, whose spirits were bound to watch over their realm. The Shadowmen buried their dead, but they respected Mercian customs and lent their help. Alexander was grateful.
He slid off his mount and surveyed the damage. He felt a deep fury building inside. The attacks were worsening, and he had no idea who was responsible.
Moray still had a few buildings standing, and he waved the men to look around. As he walked through the ruins, he noticed there had already been looting.Drifters. They always seemed to appear and fill their pockets before his soldiers arrived. He checked the bodies as he went, looking for anyone still alive. But there were none. Everyone was dead. This enemy was savage.
“Anything?” Alexander asked as the men came back together. They shook their heads. He looked at the captain.
“We can send half the men here to the two villages we passed along the way, and the other half to the lower hills,” she suggested. “I can pull more men back from the west as well.”
“We haven’t enough men to cover them all,” Alexander said.
“Will you write for more?” she asked.
He let out a long breath. “I can’t. Two thousand men is more than generous. And I’ve already drawn the council’s concern with the number of Shadowmen in our ranks.” He paused. “I mean no offense.”
Her eyes smiled. She looked around once more. “What do you want to do?”
“Send out your men. You and I will return to Mercia. I’ll pull more from the castle, and from Bahoul.”
Then they turned their mounts north and spurred them back toward the castle.
The judisaept felt colder than usual. Perhaps it was the winter, perhaps it was the disapproval that hung in the air from Alexander’s acceptance and deployment of the Shadowmen—of the Shadowwoman. But that weighed little on his mind now.
A letter had come from Eilor, the most southern kingdom of the Aleon Empire. Alexander handed the letter to James as he addressed the council. “News from Eilor. The usurper of Rael has met with Japheth‘s king.”
Edward grunted. “Perhaps he intends to join Japheth and the Shadowlands against us?”
“The Shadowlands are our ally,” Alexander said, as much as it pained him to do so. Edward scoffed, and Alexander shot him a warning gaze. “I advise you use caution,” he added, and Edward quieted.
“And it’s rumored the usurper holds no favor for the Shadowlands,” James said. “The Shadow King supported the slavers’ kingdom, which the usurper has recently taken.”
