Canticle

“That,” Merrique said, “is only half of a plan, Rudolfo.”

Rudolfo sighed. If Gregoric lived, that First Captain would have scowled now and tried to talk him out of the course so clearly laid out in his mind. Maybe it was because of his origins, a young orphan king faced with insurgency within his people, or maybe it was because of his father’s firm guidance and insistence upon what was right. He didn’t know for sure, but the end result was the same: He rarely doubted the right path to take in any given situation, and this was no different. He loathed Vlad Li Tam, had vowed to kill him, but he could not bring himself to leave the man’s family in the hands of these blood-bent cultists.

He looked up at Charles and Rafe. The sailors were shifting back into focus now, too, as the powders lifted. “I will take my Gypsy Scouts, and we will free those we can.”

Rafe choked on his beer. “Three men against a hundred? Are you mad, Rudolfo? Has grief and desperation for your son clouded your judgment?”

No, not him, the assassin had said back in the Great Hall on the night all of this had begun. And the Ninefold Forest Houses had not only survived Windwir’s fall but had benefited from it. There had to be a connection between this resurgence and his family’s dark heritage-but what?

“Perhaps,” Rudolfo said, “I am mad.” When he looked up and his eyes met Rafe’s he watched the man blink and look away at the ferocity of what he saw there. “Regardless, I am going to do what I can.”

And hope, he thought, that it will be enough to save my son.

As their voices lowered to tones reserved for careful strategy and well-timed movements, Rudolfo steeled himself for the work ahead and summoned up the gray face of his ailing son once more for assurance that this path before him was true.

Chapter 21

Jin Li Tam

Jin Li Tam spent the morning on the line, riding with her closest commanders as she inspected the ragged border they’d established between the armies to the south and the Marshlands to the west.

Reinforcements to those armies had arrived and already been cut through. Three times in as many days, her lines had been breached, and try as they might, the Wandering Army could not hold them. Neither did the blood- magicked foe linger to engage the Gypsies. They’d pressed on in their raids against the Turamites and Pylosians. Because they had no intention of returning, they did not need to leave an opening behind. They surged through and did not even bare their invisible weapons. With their hands, they shoved the Forester soldiers easily aside with minor injuries, and their hapless pursuit of them yielded no results.

Her Gypsy Scouts fared only slightly better.

So now, she rode the line and tried to keep spirits up. Rudolfo’s officers were a hard lot who loved their men fiercely and exacted a loyalty not dissimilar to that they bore for their Gypsy King. And it was a different kind of love, a different kind of loyalty than what her father exacted. His love was sharp, and no one doubted that he loved his strategic purposes and the world they shaped more than the tools that he used to do that shaping. This new way of leading confounded her.

The Wandering Army had not marched beneath a queen in more years than any of her captains or commanders could tell her. It had happened, certainly, during times that the Gypsy King was away attending other business. And despite this, and despite her newness, they honored her and followed her orders as if they were Rudolfo’s.

And though she knew it was no place for her infant son, she saw also the way her husband’s men looked to their prince and knew of a certainty that they would give their lives before letting any danger near their lord’s firstborn. She’d even found trinkets left for the boy at her tent flap-anonymous tokens of welcome to the new heir.

Jin Li Tam felt a stray snowflake brush her cheek and started. The powders made her mind wander, and she looked around quickly to be sure no one had spoken. They rode the line in single file, slowly, pausing here and there to ask the men how they were and how the food was.

Soon, it would be time to turn back and tend to Jakob. The River Woman and Winters watched him now while Lynnae slept off yesterday’s powders. The girl had taken the baby two days in a row while Jin Li Tam and the young Marsh Queen attempted another parley with the others. It had gone no better-Turam’s man had shown up, but Meirov hadn’t even deigned to send a subordinate. Pylos was not interested in parley.

Around them, the forest was thin, with open spaces between trees. Most of the ground was mud and dirty clots of snow. The cold air smelled like wood smoke and pine, and apart from the noise of a waiting army, it was a quiet morning.

When Third Alarm sounded, it came from the west. Jin’s hand went to her sword, then relaxed. Ahead, she heard whistles and saw men turning north. She followed their stares and held her breath. Leaning forward in the saddle, she heard the clacking of tongues and watched the spatter of mud kicked up by magicked feet as invisible men raced toward the line. The Gypsy Scouts were in full retreat.

“Hold the line,” a commander barked.

She saw the men, saw the Gypsy Scouts spread out and turn, and then saw the surge of something pouring across the forest floor faster than a magicked stallion.

And suddenly, something broke in her and she felt her head grow hot as her jaw clenched.

Jin Li Tam drew her sword and spun her horse, her eyes scanning the northern forest. She spurred forward, lining herself up with the mass of bending light and mud that bore down upon her men. Bellowing with a rage she did not know she possessed, she rode down that wind of blood, feeling the solid thud of the horse’s steel hooves as it connected with flesh and bone. She spun the horse, whistling at it as the sword darted out to find something within that blood-magicked swell of running men.

Something heavy and fast struck the side of the horse, and Jin yelped as she tumbled from the saddle. Before the horse fell, she was out from its shadow and discarding her sword for the slender scout knives she’d taken from Rudolfo’s desk. They felt natural in her hands, and as another cold wind approached from the north, she danced into it, low and swinging for hamstrings she was trained to find, especially upon the magicked. Around her, she heard the sound of other horses and other men as her retinue chased after and joined her in the fray.

I must earn their respect with blood. But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t why she did this. Why she risked her life-her, a new mother-as if it meant nothing.

She was angry. No, she was enraged. And she poured it all into this work before her. She felt the knife moving over skin, felt it catch and hold and pull her along behind. Gathering herself up, she threw herself forward and buried her knives into the fleeing back.

She fell upon her prey, and it bucked and twisted until it threw her off. “You should not be here, Great Mother. You might be hurt.”

Jin Li Tam lunged forward, the knife finding purchase. She brought the other in and twisted them both. “I am not your mother,” she snarled.

Laughing, he shoved her back. “You brought us the Child of Promise. You are a mother to us all.”

Around them, the line was breaking.

She moved in again, feinting with her left and jabbing with her right. She heard a surprised grunt and pressed forward, bringing both knives up and in as she drew close enough to smell the Marsher’s foul breath. She twisted the knives again and heard him howl. “Who told you that?” she asked. “This Child of Promise. he’s dying. What kind of promise is that?”

“He will not die, Great Mother. He cannot, for he brings forth the Crimson Empress from afar. She who will make all things right.”

I should stop, she told herself. I should question him. But the rage in her-anger that had hidden in her tears of late-required otherwise. And she felt the white heat building behind her eyes with every word he uttered. She drove the knives into him again and felt him buckle to his knees beneath her blades. Again, and the Marsher collapsed.