24. Twenty-One

"The dead army will be our vanguard," I announced, moving several freshly carved stones into place on the model. "I want archers and mages on the walls, one mage for every archer and one behind, ready to rotate out when their taps are empty."

Katyr and Ieduin both nodded.

I turned to Niro. "How many battle worthy horses do we have?"

Niro shook his head. "Four hundred at best, your grace. The bulk of our forces are foot soldiers, and many beasts simply aren't suited for war."

I nodded and placed markers for the cavalry on either side of the wall. "I want one hundred Broken Blades on the east and west flanks. Once they commit, you will come in and hit them on the sides, boxing them in while they're forced to fight through the undead. Our best soldiers should be the next line of defense. I want them behind this trench with a mage nearby to light it. The enemy mages will be our greatest threat. We must neutralize them swiftly, before they can unleash their most devastating spells."

Katyr nodded once. "It will be done, Your Grace. We shall rain fire and lightning upon them until naught remains but ash and ruin."

"I want to be informed the moment either Klaus or Vinolia make an appearance," I said, and everyone around the table murmured their agreement.

The peal of war horns shattered the tense silence, heralding the enemy's approach. Their clarion call sent a shiver down my spine, but I steeled myself, turning to face my assembled commanders.

"You have your orders," I said. "Go now, and may the gods grant us victory this day."

They departed swiftly, faces grim with determination, until only Elindir remained. He lingered in the doorway, eyes shadowed with worry. In two strides, I was before him, tilting his chin up with a gentleness that still felt foreign to me.

"Promise me you'll stay back from the fighting," I murmured, searching his gaze. "Leave the vanguard to me."

Elindir's brows drew together, a flicker of defiance sparking. "I'm not some swooning maiden to be coddled, Ruith. I can fight as well as any man."

"I know." The words were heavy on my tongue. "But I have a feeling, my prince. A feeling that if you ride out there today..." I swallowed hard. "Promise me you will command from the wall. Please."

He held my stare for a long moment, jaw clenched. "Only if you swear to return."

I kissed him then, fierce and desperate, pouring all the things I couldn't say into it. I broke away reluctantly, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. "I swear it," I whispered, resting my forehead against his. "I will always return to you, Elindir. In this life and the next."

With one last lingering caress against Elindir's cheek, I tore myself away, striding from the room before my resolve could crumble. I knew with a bone-deep certainty that today would shape the course of history. For good or ill, there would be no turning back.

I had nearly reached the door when Elindir's voice rang out, raw and desperate. "Ruith, wait!"

I turned just in time to catch him as he flung himself into my arms, his mouth crashing against mine in a kiss. I pulled him close, fingers tangling in that fiery hair, drinking in his taste, his scent, the feel of his lithe body pressed to mine. In that moment, the rest of the world fell away—the looming battle, the fate of nations hanging in the balance, all of it faded to insignificance in the face of this... whatever this was.

"Say it again," Elindir breathed when we finally parted, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Tell me you'll come back to me."

I cupped his face in my hands, thumbs brushing over those high, sharp cheekbones. "The gods themselves could not keep you from me, Prince Elindir. I'd abandon high halls of Tengir himself, swim through the cloying rivers of the Otherworld, and fight Death itself to be with you again. No army of elves, no matter how determined, will keep me away."

I stole one last, lingering kiss before reluctantly releasing Elindir and striding from the room, my cloak billowing behind me. The weight of destiny settled heavily upon my shoulders as I made my way through the keep, passing soldiers and servants alike who bowed and murmured "Your Grace" as I passed.

I emerged into the grey light of the Twilight Lands, the sun a hazy smudge behind a veil of clouds. Snowflakes drifted down lazily from the leaden sky, dusting the cobblestones and catching in my eyelashes. The cold air stung my cheeks and burned my lungs as I inhaled deeply, trying to center myself.

Daraith and Queen Taelyn awaited me in the courtyard, already on horseback. As I approached, Daraith inclined his head and announced, "The dead are restless, Your Grace. They sense the battle ahead."

I nodded grimly, my gaze sweeping over the sea of pale, lifeless faces that stretched out before us. In death, all men were equal, from the lowliest peasant to the highest lord. Today, they would fight as one.

I mounted my horse in one smooth motion. The beast snorted and pawed at the ground, steam rising from its nostrils in the frigid air. "Then let us give them their fill of it."

As we rode out through the gates, the clamor of the dead army rose to a deafening crescendo. Skeletal hands clutched rusted swords and spears, empty eye sockets staring sightlessly ahead. Four hundred strong, they shambled forward in an eerie unison, driven by Daraith's necromantic will.

I glanced back at the defenses arrayed behind us. The ditch yawned wide and deep, a deadly trap lying in wait. Viscous black liquid pooled at the bottom. One spark would transform it into a blazing inferno.

Beyond the ditch, a thousand elven warriors stood in perfect formation, their armor glinting beneath the wan light. Grim determination etched itself onto every fair face, bows and blades at the ready. The Broken Blades, along with the rest of the cavalry, were positioned on the flanks, poised to strike.

And behind them all, the army of freed slaves assembled, a ragtag legion of the dispossessed and downtrodden. Three thousand strong, armed with whatever weapons they could scavenge or forge, they nonetheless emanated a fierce resolve. These were warriors of necessity, forced to fight for their very survival.

As the enemy host drew near, I was able to pick out the rampant wolf of the Wolfhearts on their banners, and the arcane sigils of Clan Runecleaver. Cold dread settled in my gut as I beheld their numbers. Though we had the advantage of superior forces, there was no denying the skill and prowess of our foes.

Katyr rode up beside us.

I frowned over at him. "Katyr, you do not have to be here for this."

He looked over at me, his face resolute. "Vinolia is here. I must represent my clan or I will look weak. If you want me to lead in the future, I must be here now. I will return to the wall after."

I conceded with a slight nod, and we rode forth.

The undead vanguard halted as two figures emerged from the enemy ranks, moving to meet us in the barren no-man's-land between our armies. Even at a distance, I recognized the icy beauty and cruel bearing of Vinolia Runecleaver. Beside her rode Klaus Wolfheart, looking every inch the grizzled warlord in his dark plate.

We met them in the middle of the field, our breath steaming in the frigid air. I pulled my black charger to a halt.

"Well, well, if it isn't my darling grandson," Vinolia drawled, her voice dripping with disdain as she raked her gaze over Katyr. "I see you've thrown your lot in with this rabble. Truly, Katyr, I expected better of you. Consorting with necromancers and their abominations? It's beneath a Runecleaver."

Katyr's hands tightened on his reins, but he met Vinolia's stare. "I do what I must for our people, Grandmother. Ruith's cause is just. The time has come for change."

Vinolia scoffed, a harsh, grating sound. She leaned forward in her saddle, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You're weak, just like your mother. She thought to defy me too, and look at what became of her. You'll share her fate if you continue down this path."

Katyr paled, a tremor running through his slender frame. The ghosts of old wounds and traumas flickered in his eyes.

I urged my horse forward, placing myself between Vinolia and Katyr. "You will address me, Vinolia. I am the king, not your grandson."

Vinolia's piercing gaze shifted to me, her lip curling in a sneer. "Ruith Starfall. The prodigal son returns, leading an army of corpses and chattel. How very droll."

"Surrender now," I demanded, my voice ringing out across the barren field, "and I will show mercy to your people and only execute you."

Her mocking laughter cut through the air like a blade. "You are in open revolt against your father's rightful rule. You have betrayed your family, your people, and your primarch. Surrender, and perhaps he will grant you the mercy of a quick death befitting a traitor."

I met her stare, my jaw clenched. "I betrayed nothing. I simply opened my eyes to the truth. My father's reign is one of cruelty and oppression, built on the suffering of the innocent. I will see it end, one way or another."

"You are a fool, Ruith," Vinolia replied. "You think this pathetic rabble you've gathered can stand against the might of the Wolfhearts and Runecleavers? We will crush you like insects beneath our boots."

I turned my attention to Klaus Wolfheart, who had remained silent thus far. "Lord Wolfheart," I greeted coolly. "I had hoped we might come to an accord, for the sake of both our peoples. Surely you can see the wisdom in ending this conflict before more blood is shed."

Klaus' weathered face remained impassive, as if carved from stone. "You speak of wisdom, yet you spurned my daughter to love another. You have no shame, and you are no king of mine." His gaze flicked to Taelyn, who sat tall and proud on her silver mare. "Taelyn, come. It is not too late to abandon this folly. Your place is with your family, with your people."

Taelyn's eyes flashed with defiance as she faced her father. "My place is here, fighting for what I believe in. Ruith's cause is noble and just. I will not abandon him or our allies now, not for the sake of misguided loyalty to a corrupt system."

Klaus's stoic facade cracked then, a flicker of anguish contorting his features. "Daughter, please," he entreated, his gruff voice softening. "I have already lost your brothers. I cannot bear to lose you, too. Come home, and all will be forgiven. We can move past this... this folly."

For a moment, Taelyn seemed to waver, a glimmer of longing and sorrow passing over her. But then her spine straightened, and she shook her head firmly. "No, Father. My path is set. If you cannot see the righteousness of our cause, then you leave me no choice but to oppose you on the field of battle. But know that I do this with a heavy heart."

Klaus's face hardened, his jaw clenching as he reined his horse back. "So be it," he ground out. "You have made your choice, and you will live—or die—with the consequences."

"Indeed, she will," Vinolia said. "As will you all. Prepare yourself, Ruith Starfall. Pray to your gods. Today is the day that you die."

With those ominous words hanging in the frigid air between us, Vinolia wheeled her mount around and galloped back to her waiting forces, Klaus Wolfheart following close behind. I watched them retreat, a sense of grim finality settling in my gut. Many would die there today, but I hoped not to be among their number.