Chapter 12

UNA

I heard them long before they began to march into camp. The heavy tread of the cavalry sounded like a long roll of thunder that might never end.

Standing at the tent flap, I peeked through, watching the first of them approach the edge of the encampment. It was easy to make out Goll's second in command—Soryn was what he'd called him. He stood even taller than the other cavalry on the back of the largest horse I'd ever seen. They rode Pellasians, a sturdy and hardy breed from Hellamir, a northern province of Lumeria.

I wondered how they'd managed to steal so many of the prized herd of the light fae who lived right on the borderlands of Northgall. No ambassador of Hellamir had come to seek help from us in Issos. Or perhaps they had, and Baelynn simply hadn't passed that information along. It wasn't as if I had been privy to all of the military maneuverings or the many disappointments as King Xakiel began to invade our lands.

I winced, thinking of Baelynn, wondering how he would manage without me. I'd heard Goll and Soryn talk as we walked through the corridors to Drakmir on the east bridge. My brother was to remain essentially under guard as steward of our kingdom. No—no longer our kingdom. It was all Goll's now. I blinked away the harsh loss and focused on the new arrivals.

It made sense that they would want Pellasians. Only steeds standing twelve-feet tall with hooves as round as dinner plates could carry the weight of the wraith fae.

Goll stepped into view close to Soryn, who swung off his horse. There was another I hadn't met yet standing next to Goll. He had a broken horn.

Smaller soldiers, probably adolescent warriors in training, came forward to take the mounts to a makeshift pen on the open plain.

Curious, I pushed open the flap to get a better look.

"Do you need something, Mizrah?"

A pale gray wraith fae with four horns curling backward and many runes painted on his forehead looked down at me with bright yellow eyes and a determined expression. He wore his hair with multiple small braids at the temples that were pulled back in a queue to hang loosely with his long black hair.

"No. I was simply curious about the horses. How did you acquire so many of our Pellasians?" I gestured over his shoulder the soldiers dismounting and entering camp.

He frowned then looked where I pointed. Glancing around, I hadn't noticed a second wraith fae standing to the left of the tent opening. He matched the other one in appearance and demeanor. So much so that I was fairly sure they were twins. The second one stared at me with open wonder and interest.

"Mizrah," said the one in front of me, "we bargain regularly with horsemasters in Hellamir."

Frowning, I protested, "But trade is illegal with Northgall. That would be against the laws of Issos." The old laws, rather.

The wraith fae smiled, and I noted he was rather handsome.

"That does not mean they won't take our money anyway."

"I…" I didn't know what to say to that. Perhaps I was na?ve in thinking no Issosian would dare barter with the enemy. It seemed there was much I didn't know about the world, about my own people.

"Please, Mizrah. Wait inside."

"I apologize," I told my polite guard. "I do not know your name."

He dipped his horns forward in a bow of his head. "I am Meck, Mizrah. At your service. And this is my brother, Ferryn."

I nodded a bow at him and then his brother who still hadn't spoken, but he watched and listened intently.

"At my service?" I asked. "Or simply at the king's service to keep me quiet and placated?"

The pale skin on his neck and jaw darkened slightly with a flush of purple. He was blushing.

"Ah," I said. "That's what I thought."

"Our role is to keep you safe, Mizrah. And content."

"Why do you call me ‘Mizrah'?" I asked. "Isn't she one of your lesser goddesses?"

Goll had called me that earlier tonight, and he hadn't explained why.

Meck's yellow eyes widened slightly. But it was his brother Ferryn who stepped closer and replied, "She isn't a lesser goddess. She wasn't a goddess at all. She was a mortal fae."

"Truly?"

He nodded, blinking his eyes curiously at me. "You do not know the tales of Mizrah, the mate of Vix?"

"One of his concubines, you mean."

He blinked those unique eyes at me again. "Vix, our chief god, had only one companion. Her name was Mizrah."

"What?"

I was quite confused. I'd studied dark fae culture for many years, and all the accounts of Mizrah was that she was the earth god's chief concubine, giving him four sons, the demons of earth, fire, beast, and shadow. The wraith fae were descended from the fire demon. The shadow fae mostly dwelled in the east. And the beast fae were said to be a cursed race, part animal and fae. I could find nothing at all on the earth fae. As if they never existed.

But Vix was a promiscuous god, well-known for his sexual prowess and manipulative escapades.

"You must be mistaken," I told Ferryn. "The tales of Vix are some of the most entertaining, if a bit diabolical. I remember the one where he disguised himself as a water serpent and tricked a pool of wood nymphs to ride on his back. He then carried them to a lone island and forced them all to copulate with him as the toll to return back to the mainland."

Meck's brow shot up, stretching his runes into his hairline. "That"—he shook his head—"is not a tale of our god Vix."

Confused, I asked, "You've never heard that one?"

"That is a fable," Ferryn declared emphatically. He did some sort of sign with his hand, touching his forehead, his chin, and then his chest, then stretched his long fingers toward the ground, palm up. He looked back at me. I took his ritual as a religious gesture to his god Vix. "The reason we call you Mizrah is because that is your title. It is what we call the king's chosen female to bear his heir."

"I see." I swallowed hard against the bitter gall trying to rise up my throat. Yet again the reminder that I'm no more than a sold sow, waiting to be mounted and bred.

"I don't think you do, my mizrah." Ferryn frowned.

Loud laughter suddenly bellowed through the trees and someone played a flute of some sort.

Meck opened the tent flap, "Please, Mizrah. It would be better if you stayed in your tent. There will be celebrating now."

I walked through the opening while he held the flap aside. He glanced past me to the untouched tray of food on the bed. "Is the meal not to your liking?"

It was prepared rather plainly compared to what I was used to. Roast eskel with the starchy purple vegetable, delly root. Though I enjoyed venison very much and was used to eating delly root since it was prevalent in Lumeria, I was more accustomed to spicy sauces and caramelized onions and sugared vegetables. But even if the meal had been prepared by the best cooks of Issos, I could not have eaten.

"I'm not hungry," I stated simply.

"You must eat, Mizrah. And rest."

I simply nodded, knowing I'd never sleep tonight. He smiled and let the flap fall shut. While the laughter and music continued, I realized how truly alone I was.