Reyna pulled back from his chest, her beautiful eyes marred with redness. “There will be a future for us all. Illian has never known a better king than you. I am so proud of the man you have become. I weep because I know you will find victory and it will come at the cost of my…” Unable to finish her words, the queen patted his chest. “You have overcome more than any king could bear. And with Inara by your side, there is nothing the two of you will not accomplish together. Your fates have been entwined since you were children: that much I have always known.”
Vighon squeezed her hand. “So much of who I am is because of you and Nathaniel. I owe you both everything.”
Reyna finally managed a smile. “You owe us nothing,” she insisted. “You are the man you were always meant to be.”
The northman took her kind words as best he could, sparing a glance at the distant plains. “How is Nathaniel settling into his new title?” he asked, naturally thinking of the man he had long measured himself against.
“He hates it,” Reyna replied with a degree of amusement.
Vighon enjoyed her lighter tone. “Wearing a crown is never what you expect. You think the whole world is yours and you can do what you like with it, but it’s quite the opposite. Your world is small. Your every step is watched. Your every word written down. It will take some adjustment on Nathaniel’s part. I suppose he never considered the possibility of being a king.” The northman noted his companion’s pensive expression. “You miss her,” he surmised, without saying Adilandra’s name.
Reyna slowly nodded. “Growing up, my mother often told me the qualities required of a queen, more so than those required of a princess, as I was. I would always tell her how little it mattered when she would be queen for all time. I can see her face now, as if I was back there with her. She knew. Somewhere deep down, she always knew. My mother was a better student of history than me - she knew there had never been a queen for all time. I should have listened to her lessons,” Reyna lamented. “I just never thought she wouldn’t be here.”
“You are already a good queen,” Vighon reassured. “You have had the respect of your people and mine for many years. Nathaniel too. My own deeds as king pale in comparison to what you have already accomplished for both Illian and Ayda.”
“In this future you doubt is to come,” Reyna suggested, “we will have to be more than good kings and queens. Ours is an alliance of two shores. The realm is going to need piecing back together, on both sides of The Adean.”
“If only it were just Illian and Ayda,” Vighon contemplated. “Erador will fall into war without Alijah and his Reavers to keep order. We cannot ignore our neighbour.”
The queen made to speak on the matter when her gaze shifted away from the northman and down the eastern line of the camp. Vighon turned to see Faylen and Captain Nemir astride a pair of galloping horses. They broke away from the camp and crossed the plain to join them.
“Why do I have a bad feeling?” the king pondered.
“I share it,” Reyna replied, stepping away from him to greet her High Guardian. “You have news, Faylen.”
Their horses came within feet of the king and queen, though Faylen was already leaving her saddle behind before the mounts came to a complete halt. “Your Graces,” she began with a quick bow of the head. “Word from our scouts in the east: Reavers are departing Whistle Town and Galosha.”
“Departing?” Reyna queried.
Faylen clarified, “They have been sighted on mounts of their own ilk, all heading west, towards us.”
Vighon felt his jaw tense. “Galosha is a large city - there must be hundreds of Reavers stationed there. Any word from the scouts in the south?” he asked, concerned they would be attacked on more than one front.
“We didn’t have the numbers to set up a relay line of scouts to the south,” Captain Nemir told him. “We have heard nothing from those dispatched.”
“We were wrong to assume Alijah intended to wait this calamity out,” Faylen continued. “He means to press the attack while we care for so many wounded.”
“That makes no sense,” Reyna reasoned. “If he meant to destroy us he would have stayed and done so.”
Vighon turned away, his gaze fixing on the north once more. He couldn’t hide his concern from the woman who had all but raised him.
“You think Alijah knows of our plan?” the queen concluded from his expression alone.
“If he does,” Vighon replied, “he could only have learned of it from Inara and the others.”
“I’m sure they remain unharmed,” Faylen offered. “They have Athis with them.”
“Unlike us,” Nemir countered. “We have enemy forces advancing on our position and now we have no dragons to assist us.”
Vighon cast his eyes over the sprawling camp, all the while his grip tightened around the sword of the north. Only the dead would dare to face an army - even half an army - comprised of elves, dwarves, humans, and Centaurs. But it was the dead they faced, and the dead feared nothing.
“Who among them isn’t hungry?” Captain Nemir continued, having followed the king’s sight. “These freezing winds are enough to take the fight out of anyone, never mind empty stomachs and aching wounds. Between the cold and our dwindling rations, this rebellion is a pale shadow of what it was only days ago.”
Vighon knew the elven warrior was voicing their collective fears, but he didn’t need to hear it now. “Fight or die,” he told the captain, his tone full of foreboding. “That has never changed and I see no reason why it should now. We will rouse any and all among us who can hold the line, and we will hold the line. My
