Ariel had felt a lump in her throat as she replied, “He wanted you to know that he loves you.”
Sylvanna stared at her. “He asked you to tell me that?”
“No,” said Ariel softly, looking down at the floor.
“He could never have asked me such a thing. I offered of my own accord.”
“I see,” Sylvanna said. “It would have been unconscionable for him to ask you. But it was very gracious and noble of you to tell me. Thank you, Lady Ariel.”
“I … I hope we can be friends,” said Ariel.
“I shall always admire and respect you,” Sylvanna said. “But you do not want me for a friend. That would be too difficult for all concerned. I will stay until after the wedding. And then it would be best if I went back home to Tuarhievel. I have been away too long.
But please do not tell Aedan. I do not wish to say good-bye. Good night, my lady.”
As she watched Sylvanna from across the room, Ariel wondered how soon after the banquet she would leave. She glanced at Aedan, sitting next to her and speaking with her father. He will hate me, she thought. I love him with all my heart, and he will hate me. And then she saw Laera, sitting by the emperor and staring at them both with eyes like anthracite.
Suddenly, the doors to the banquet hall were opened, and the herald entered with a man beside
him, a captain in the army. The captain nodded to him grimly, and the herald blew a blast on his horn, cutting through the noise of merriment.
All eyes turned toward the captain, who went down to one knee and bowed his head.
“Sire, it grieves me to intrude upon this happy occasion, but I bring important news.”
“What is it, Captain?” Michael asked.
“Lord Arwyn is on the march, Sire. He has gathered all his forces and advanced across the border into Avanil. There has been a battle. Our garrisons have fallen. He is but a day’s march distant.”
A dead silence fell upon the hall.
The emperor stood. “My lords and ladies,” he said, “I crave your pardon for disrupting the festivities. All officers to your commands.
Sound the call for the troops to assemble. We march within the hour.
Those of you who do not bear arms with our forces, please stay and finish your dinner.”
“Forgive me,” Aedan said to Ariel as he got up, “but duty calls.”
“Of course,” she said, thinking, was there relief in his voice? As people started to rush out of the hall, Ariel quickly made her way to Sylvanna’s side. “You will not leave now, surely?” she said.
“No, not now,” Sylvanna said. “My departure shall have to be postponed.”
“Please watch out for him,” said Ariel.
Sylvanna simply looked at her. “I always have.”
The army gathered on the parade ground as the temple bells throughout the town tolled the alarm.
As Aedan stepped out of the boat, his squire was already dressed for battle and had brought his mount and arms and standard. He swung into the saddle and rode together with the emperor to assemble the troops.
Only a few days had passed since their last disastrous campaign, and yet they all came, as he had known they would. This time, there would be no battles with ogres, gnolls, goblins, undead.
This time, they would face the Army of Boeruine.
And this time, Aedan knew, it would finally be settled, one way or the other.
For Arwyn to attack in force now was too much of a coincidence. It would have taken him several days to gather his troops and march to Brosengae to make a push from there, supported by the troops manning his border garrisons. He must have started to organize his march as soon as the battered Army of Anuire returned from their illfated expedition.
Somehow, he must have known they had fought several engagements and were weakened and demoralized. The timing was too close to be coincidence.
His spies had done their work.
Well, weakened they were, perhaps, thought Aedan, as he gazed out at the assembled troops, but demoralized? There was firm resolve in every face he saw. They would be fighting to defend their city, and they knew that this, at last, would be the final battle.
There would be no retreat. And if Arwyn tried to pull back behind his garrisons, they would pursue and attack with everything they had. They were all weary of the war. Now was the time to end it.
Michael rode up to his troops as their officers formed them up and called them to attention. As he started to address them, Aedan thought back to that
day on the coastal plains by Seaharrow, when a younger Michael had stood before his “troops” of children, exhorting them to victory over the evil forces of Azrai. This time, however, there was a real sword in his hand, not a wooden toy And this time, his voice was not high-pitched and squeaky, but it rang out clear and true. And this time, Ariel would not take part in the combat, but would remain behind, wondering if her new husband would return home safely He glanced at Sylvanna riding up to join them with Gylvain and the other elves.
There were fewer of them than had started the campaign, eight long and weary years ago. Their number had been reduced by half. Elves fighting and dying in a human conflict, he thought. Shades of Deismaar, indeed.
“Warriors of the Empire of Anuire!” shouted Michael, his voice carrying across the parade ground as he sat mounted before his troops.
“Once more we march to battle! Many times we have assembled here over the past eight years. I see many familiar faces.
And there are those, sadly,
