The Shadow Throne (The Ascendance Trilogy, #3)(7)
Eighteen out of forty. My heart ached at the thought of so much loss. And even though the men who remained would be among the finest warriors Carthya had to offer, the odds against them were terrible. It was likely that by now, none of them were still alive.
Mott handed me the note. “He asks you to bring reinforcements to join him. He believes it’s the only way they’ll succeed.”
I scanned his note for myself. Due to his uneducated background, Roden’s spelling and handwriting were poor, but in this case I was grateful for the errors. It proved that this note had come directly from his hand. “The captain asks me to send reinforcements, not bring them. You’d rather I go into battle against thousands of Gelynians than to the camp where Imogen is being held?”
“No. I’d rather you hid yourself in a closet until this is over. But I know from experience that even with our best locks, we couldn’t keep you there.” There was some teasing in his voice, but after a moment’s hesitation, Mott became serious again. “They could only have one reason to take Imogen, because they knew you would come for her. Jaron, whatever they have planned, it will be awful. So if it must be one or the other, then, yes, I’d rather you go to Gelyn.”
Fortunately, my decision was already made, or else I’d have had to argue, just for the sake of pride. But I only said, “All right, Mott. You win this time, but don’t let it become a habit.” Then, with my heart pounding, I added, “Promise me that Imogen —”
“I can’t promise anything other than to do my best.” Nervously, he licked his lips. “And you promise me —”
“I can’t do that either.” I forced a grim smile to my face. “But one way or another, we will see this war to an end. We must.”
The following morning, a regiment of two hundred men left Drylliad for the northern border of Gelyn. I wished I could’ve sent more, but other men were needed in the south to meet the advancing armies of Mendenwal, and a third contingent was sent to oversee the mighty waters of Falstan Lake, while the rest remained here in defense of the capital. What strength Carthya had was already being divided, and our resources were taxed to their limits. Though I stood tall and proud as I watched them leave, in my heart, I still doubted that we had any chance of survival.
Once they had gone, I joined Tobias, Amarinda, and Fink in the courtyard. My plan was to travel with them to the border of Avenia, to ensure their safety at least that far. Then I would take my horse, Mystic, on to Gelyn from there and hope the devils gave them clearance until the princess was safe in her home country.
The escape carriage was being loaded with clothing, blankets, and food. Tobias cocked his head toward the crates and said, “At least we won’t be cold or hungry on this journey.”
A mischievous grin tugged at my mouth. “We won’t be cold, but I’d advise against eating the food. Today’s recipes included an extra ingredient of Ayagall.” His groans told me that Tobias knew the plant as well as I did. Ayagall was a weed that grew plentifully near the orphanage where I’d lived, and was the source of many a lively joke when orphanage life grew dull. Even small amounts guaranteed a full day’s vomiting. Suddenly, the mystery of why Mrs. Turbeldy hated me so much was solved.
Despite her attempts to remain serious, Amarinda giggled. “Avenia thinks they’re battling a king. I doubt they’re prepared to fight a boy who thinks childish pranks are practical strategies for war.”
“Aren’t they?” I said, giving a wink and a smile to Fink, who was already laughing.
Once the carriage was loaded, Amarinda, Fink, Tobias, and I crowded inside. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable trip, but if they were stopped at the border, this had to look like a transport wagon, unfit for passengers and certainly unfit for the future queen of the land. Amarinda and I sat beside each other on a small bench at the far end of the carriage, while Fink and Tobias took the floor across from us.
Fink immediately started chatting with Tobias, who told him to hush no less than twenty times before the gates of Drylliad were behind us. I wasn’t sure why he bothered. Keeping Fink from asking questions was like holding back the sea. He talked whenever he was nervous, or excited, or bored, or for that matter, awake. Eventually, Tobias gave up pretending to listen and just stared forward. His anxiety was evident in his every expression, every movement, and grew worse with each mile.
I noticed Amarinda smiling back at him, hoping to give him confidence in all that would have to happen over the next several hours. He warmed to that and smiled back. I watched the silent exchange, but noticed his eyes linger on her long after she turned away. Of course they would. Amarinda grew more beautiful by the day. Even a blind man would’ve noticed it too.
Eventually, Fink ran out of questions and grew as silent as the rest of us. I almost wished he would’ve continued talking, for the silent carriage felt almost haunted afterward. My mind was no clearer than it had been a day ago, and I was struggling to focus on any one problem facing us without a hundred others begging my attention first. The strain of it made me want to walk or climb or do something other than sit in a crowded carriage as it bumped along a dusty road.
Just to give myself some movement, I stretched out my legs and arms. Sensing my discomfort, Amarinda grabbed my hand and intertwined her fingers with mine. Then she said, “Once the three of us get past the border, it’s only a few days to Bymar. If you can hold Gelyn back until then, my people will come to help you.”