4. One

The moon hid behind silver clouds as we came upon ?nor. The mists of the Reinar Falls rose over the great stone crossing like a shroud. Torches burned high on the ancient walls, and archers drew back their bowstrings to take aim.

After our victory against Taratheil at Haena, we'd seen to our wounded and quickly agreed to march on before he returned with reinforcements. That march carried us through the day and night through rolling fields and rich, green river lands. Now, before us stood the gates of ?nor, the stronghold of Clan Stoneriver. Any path south required paying their toll. Whether their clan leader wanted payment in blood or coin was yet to be seen.

Elindir brought his horse to a stop a short distance from mine.

Prince Elindir , I reminded myself, and tried not to feel particularly bitter about it.

The day I saw him adorned with gold and sitting in that cage outside of Ostovan, I knew he was someone important, but had I known I had the bastard prince of Ostovan in my possession… Would I have treated him so poorly? Or perhaps even worse? I had set out to break him and mold him into a leader for his people, but what if he could've served that purpose without all the scars I'd inflicted?

Looking at him, I didn't know how I missed it. Even in the vestments of a slave, he managed to look like a defiant prince. Despite the mild chill in the air, and the lack of sleep, he showed no discomfort, holding his head high and his jaw firm. The stolen cloak of a dead elf warmed his otherwise bare shoulders. There was nothing about him that said he was and always had been a prince, and yet everything about him screamed it from his arrogance to his defiance.

But I knew a different side of him. I knew the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the sounds of pleasure he made in the most intimate moments. I knew those things, and yet I felt like I didn't know him at all. It was as if that night under the eclipse had happened in another life. If not for the vivid and fond memory, I might have believed it had. The heated gazes that once fell between us had turned to ice, and Elindir was more distant now than the day I freed him from his cage. I tried to convince myself it was an act, one he felt he had to put on now that it'd gotten out who he really was, but I wasn't so sure.

"The men are exhausted," Elindir said. "We are ill supplied and have been without food for nearly a full day. We are in no shape for a battle, Ruith."

"Then let us hope my letters have not fallen on deaf ears." I guided my horse back from the edge of the cliff overlooking the castle and the falls, turning to Elindir. "Ride down with me. Let them see us as equals."

His gaze was chilling as it fell on me. "We are not equals."

I sighed. "I have freed you and your people. The irons that once bound them are in a cart waiting to be melted down to make the very swords and armor that will arm them. What more do you require of me?"

Elindir arched an eyebrow and some of the vitriol faded. He almost looked amused. "A crown, Ruith. Our equality would require my snake of a half-brother to die and for me to have a crown. No matter what promises you make, only a crown can make a prince a king."

I held back a laugh. "Elves have no use for something so gaudy as a crown," I said, and rode away.

I met General Niro some distance back. He was armed, armored, and on horseback, ready to command the elite warrior-mages at his back. Of our now four thousand strong army, his force of two hundred were the only ones to look refreshed, yet they'd had no more food or sleep than the rest of us. I didn't know what sort of harsh training they underwent to achieve such constitutions, but I imagined it was brutal if such a march left them feeling rested .

"My king." Niro's fist went to his chest, and he dipped his head in a bow at my approach. He glanced warily at Elindir and hesitated.

"I believe your highness is the traditional term of address, even among elves," Elindir said.

"Your…highness." Niro acted as if the words pained him to say, but quickly recovered, turning to me. "We stand ready to lay siege."

"For the short siege it would be," I muttered. Unless we planned a feast of grass and crows, there would be nothing for us to eat until the gates of ?nor opened to us.

"Nevertheless, we are ready," my general reported.

My eyes slid to Elindir's commander, Hawk, whom he'd appointed to be Niro's equal. He certainly didn't look it. The human wore his cloak pulled to one side, his long gray hair more like a braided mane going down the center of his head. Dim gray eyes glared at me. As a former slave, it was impossible to tell just how much Elvish Hawk understood. It was safer to assume it was very little beyond the common commands issued to slaves.

"You and your standard bearer will ride at our back when we approach the gate," I said, switching to the rough common tongue of the human lands.

Hawk frowned and looked at his prince.

"We have no standard to bear," Elindir said.

That was a wrong we would have to find time to right. Without standards, it would be difficult to relay orders in the chaos of battle. But that could wait until we were safely behind some walls with food in our bellies.

"Just Commander Hawk then," I said.

The human general snorted. "I don't take orders from you, elf."

"Do as he says." Elindir's tone was sharp as the edge of a blade, and twice as quick.

Hawk gave no further objections, and our party of five rode for the gates of ?nor.

The approach to the gate was a stone bridge wide enough that six carts could drive across it at once. At the other end, a pair of massive wooden doors waited. A shout went across the walls as we rode onto the bridge, archers moving into position.

We stopped halfway across, with the river roaring beneath us and dozens of arrows pointed at us. A lesser elf might be tempted to show fear. This could be the end of my kingship before it ever began, murdered by some peasant guard's arrow over crossing a bridge. The idea was so absurd, I refused to entertain it. That was not how I was fated to die, nor was that bridge where our journey south ended. One way or another, we were riding through those gates.

The quiet stretched, the only sound the roar of the river far below and the occasional shout of a guard further along the wall, moving others into position.

Then, at last, the great wooden doors opened, and a trio of riders came out to meet us. The last time I'd been to ?nor, I was a young lad. Gorin Stoneriver had been the lord then, but I'd heard he died some time ago, leaving the crossing in the hands of his son, Harwin. Unfortunately, Harwin was a sickly boy, stricken by some disease of the blood that no magic could ease, and I had not expected him to be any better as an adult. I had addressed my letter to him when I wrote it, expecting he would still be the lord, whatever his condition.

Yet it was not Harwin that rode in the front of the procession. An elf I didn't recognize rode out on a black stallion clad in armor, a sash bearing Clan Stoneriver's colors across his chest. Long, white hair flowed loose behind him as he rode across the bridge. Harwin rode behind him alongside their standard bearer, a handsome young elf with a dusting of freckles on his cheeks.

The trio of Stoneriver elves halted a few meters away, and the unfamiliar elf in front spoke. "My name is Victorin," announced the elf with arrogance dripping from every syllable. Still, he gave an exaggerated bow from horseback. "But you may call me Lord Stoneriver."

I frowned and looked at Harwin. "Lord Harwin, it's been some time since I have been to ?nor, so correct me if I'm mistaken, but are you not the lord here?"

Harwin's pale face flushed. "I am, yes. But you may address my husband as my equal. I'm afraid my illness means I must divert most matters of state to him."

"I hadn't heard you were married. Congratulations on your nuptials," I said.

"And you wouldn't hear it, since the office of the Primarch refuses to certify our union." Victorin huffed and waved a hand in the air. "Half-bloods have no standing in this country."

He turned his head slightly, and I saw it then, the smaller ears, the rounder face, the darker eyes. It was a wonder that he'd lived to adulthood, as most half-elves died very young, either from illness or because they were abandoned by their parents and left to die in the wilderness. But here he was, a half-elf, and now a self-proclaimed lord of the most powerful keep in the Riverlands.

"Word has reached the Riverlands that you've declared yourself a king," Victorin said. "The Primarch has issued a writ demanding your head."

"Unsurprising, considering how easily he was defeated at Haena not two nights ago," I scoffed. "By mostly unarmed slaves, too. Prince Elindir's people are a force to be reckoned with, but now that they have joined forces with mine, we will be twice as effective."

Victorin's gaze raked over Elindir, his lips pressed into a thin line. "We heard you freed your slaves also, and that you had put your pet human in charge of them. It is news to us, however, that he is of royal blood."

"I am Prince Elindir of Ostovan," Elindir announced, his voice unwavering. "And I command this army of freedmen. I am no one's pet ."

"Apologies, your highness," Victorin offered, dipping his head slightly. "I was only repeating what I'd heard." He turned back to me. "There have been whispers that we should expect an order of decimation to come down from on high any day now to quell another slave rebellion, and now you bring an army of former slaves to my gate. It seems unwise of you, given you know not where our allegiances lay."

My hands tightened on the reins of the horse.

"If you obey that order, you mark yourself as our enemy," Elindir said.

I winced inwardly, but it wasn't unexpected. The Stonerivers would make better allies than enemies, but if they started executing their slaves, Elindir's people would demand their heads and any chance of an alliance with the Riverlands would die there.

"We have no intention of murdering innocent people," Harwin said.

"Failure to obey a direct order from the Primarch is sedition," Victorin added. "Once the order comes, and we do not carry it out, we will be marked as traitors to the realm."

I forced my grip on the reins to relax. "The Primarch reaches too far. Loyalty should never come at the price of one's honor."

"On that, we agree." Victorin dipped his head into a nod. "But just because we are in agreement doesn't mean we are ready to enter into open revolt against the government. Perhaps our values align, but our ideals for the future…" He urged his horse forward a few steps. "It is easy to free slaves and make promises when there's a war to be fought, but when it is won, you must stand by the promises you make. Taratheil has failed to do that, and so did the monarchy before him. Why should we believe you're any better?"

"Ruith is an elf who keeps his word," Elindir volunteered. "If you won't believe him, believe me, his enemy. This elf had me tied to a post and my back flogged. He took me from my home and I served him as his property. Yet here I sit at his side, ready to bleed and die for him. Not because of any love I hold for him, but because—despite everything—he has won my respect." He gestured to me. "Your kings and your primarch rule through fear and blood. Ruith needs neither. The blood of kings flows in his veins, but it takes more than blood to make a king. You need a king with a vision, and a plan to make that vision a reality. That is what he has that is different from your Primarch, and why he will win."

My chest swelled with pride at Elindir's words, even as the wound in my chest grew wider. To hear him openly call me his enemy hurt, but I had somehow won his respect, however begrudgingly. Perhaps there was hope to win over the rest of him yet.

Victorin looked back at his husband, who nodded. "Your ally makes a compelling argument. But you know that ?nor must exact a toll for every crossing. What, my king, are you willing to part with to cross our bridge?"

I regarded the lords and their bannerman across from us. Kings and mighty armies had all paid a toll to cross their bridge, and the price demanded seemed to vary without rhyme or reason. Some paid only a pittance, a symbolic coin, to pass through, while others sacrificed their sons and daughters, opening their throats over the mighty falls to win the right to ride across. Yet neither coin nor blood would win me any favors here. Lord Victorin and Lord Harwin had no need of either.

"Tradition," I answered at length, drawing confused looks from my general and my other allies. "For too long, we've looked down upon our half-elf countrymen, treating them as lesser for having a little human blood in their veins. But I have ridden alongside humans and seen their valor. I have watched them endure things that would break many an elf. When I chose to free the slaves under my command, it wasn't just to expand my army, my lords. All of us—human, elf, and half-elf—are created equal in the eyes of the gods. We die at their pleasure. Why, then, should we not live for our own?"

Victorin frowned. "You would abolish the laws that prevent us from holding property?"

"I would do more than that," I said firmly. "I would offer you a place on my council to give a voice to those who did not have one before."

"My king," Niro whispered, shifting forward, but he fell silent with a look from me.

"We are at war," I declared. "Every action we take must be decisive. Let us make it clear here and now what we stand for. I am not fighting to preserve the world as it is. The world of my father and of the kings who came before him is dead. Let it stay in the past where it belongs. Instead, we will build a new world, one in which men and elves are defined by the substance of their actions and not the blood in their veins." I turned back to Victorin. "I do not care if you are a half-elf. I care only that you conduct yourself with honor and uphold the vows you make before your king and your gods."

Victorin and Harwin exchanged a look. Then, as one, they dismounted and fell to their knees on the damp stone. The moon shifted from behind his veil of clouds, casting beams of silver light over the bridge and the falls beneath. Both bowed their heads and put a fist over their hearts, but it was Victorin who said, "Then the Stonerivers are yours to command, my king."