Page 188 of War Queen
“Then Phillip has another day before they reach him, maybe two given the size of Rael’s army and how slowly they’ll be moving.” He shook his head, and Norah watched as his concern built. “Even if I diverted the Northern army and took them now, I wouldn’t get there in time.” He cursed.
“Do it,” Mikael told him. “Take them. He’ll hold until you get there.”
Soren pulled down his wrap, his face the palest Norah had ever seen. “Phillip can’t stand against both JaphethandRael.”
“He has a hundred thousand men,” Mikael assured him. “He can hold until you get there.”
“You ride ahead,” Caspian told Soren. “I’ll follow as quickly as I can with the army, but you go now.”
Soren looked at Mikael. “You need the Northmen in Bahoul.”
Mikael shook his head. “They’re needed in Aleon more now. Take the Northern army, join with Aleon, push Rael and Japheth down toward the Canyonlands. I’ll be ready with the forces in Bahoul to join you.” He clasped Soren’s shoulder. “Now go get your Aleon king.”
Soren reached out and gripped him, pulling their foreheads together. “You’ll keep yourself well until we meet again.”
“Until we meet again,” Mikael said. “Goodbye, brother.”
They broke, and Soren looked at Norah. He gave her the faintest of nods, then turned to leave.
“What was that?” she demanded.
Soren stopped. “It was… goodbye.”
“That’s not a proper goodbye.” She crossed the space between them and threw her arms around him, gripping him fiercely. “Keep yourself well,” she whispered.
For once, he returned her hug. “I’ll come back.”
“You’d better.”
He nodded. Then he moved to get his horse, and Caspian followed after.
Mikael’s face was somber as he looked at her, and their stares locked. The time had come. He had to leave. Wordlessly, he took her hand, and they walked back to their chamber.
Neither of them spoke as she helped him dress. She knew his departure was urgent, but she took her time, pulling each tie tight on his clothing, each strap straight on his armor. His eyes watched her as she worked. On the last vambrace, the last fastening, she stopped. She couldn’t close it. Once it was fastened, he’d be ready.
But he couldn’t be ready, because she wasn’t ready. So, she stood, her fingers frozen.
Slowly, he put his hand over hers and pressed it closed. The click of the metal rang in her ears—a sound that would forever stay in her mind. He pulled her close and drew his eyes over her face before bringing his lips to hers. His kiss trailed from her lips to her cheeks, over each eye, to her forehead, and back to her lips again. She tried to capture each touch in her mind—to remember, to never forget.
“Stay strong, Salara,” he said.
Then he turned and left for Bahoul.
Soren urged his mount relentlessly toward Aleon’s southern kingdom of Eilor. He’d only taken Cohen with him, because the boy wouldn’t slow him down, and Soren could use him. Caspian would follow behind with the Northern army.
They traveled quickly. Phillip could hold until he got there, he told himself. And if he couldn’t, he’d fall back to the mountains of Songs—that was the plan. He cursed himself. The plan had been that Rael would attack Kharav. Now he had to shift, change the strategy. Aleon could fall because of his mistake. He couldn’t let that happen.
They journeyed for what seemed like an eternity, stopping only to rest their horses. They could swap mounts in the Tribelands, but then he’d be left without a proper warhorse when he reached Eilor. He needed his destrier, Khalel al’Dakar, for the battle he would bring to this pretend Bear and the coward king of Japheth.
Cohen didn’t speak, not even using his silent language. Soren knew he sensed his worry and chose to remain quiet. And Soren was grateful.
The lowlands turned into highlands, then to hills, and he pushed his destrier on. His body tired but his mind raged, and he pushed himself on. He had to get to Phillip.
Suddenly, Cohen reined his horse to a sliding stop. Soren didn’t have time to snap his head to see before he was falling.
The ground quaked underneath him as he hit the earth. Pain shot up his back and into his neck, and the world spun around him. He groaned as he rolled onto his side, then struggled to his knees. A few paces back, his mount flailed in a hidden trench.
“Kal!” He staggered up and toward the animal as Cohen jumped down from his own horse. As Soren neared, the destrier managed to get back on its feet. He let out a pant of relief. Curse the North godsif he’d lost this horse.
