The Liberian

Chapter 72

“Thank you,” Halle said earnestly.

“Of course, Halle. Finch and I are staying in this inn also. Your friends in the Golden Guard as well. We’ll be here when you get back. Good luck.” The woman smiled and departed.

Halle wondered what she was really being wished luck for.

She dressed as quickly as possible but it was also an opportunity to take stock of the condition of her body. Her shoulders were stiff and felt swollen; her elbows also reminded her of the pressure she had placed them under. Her hands were a bit of a mess, but on a positive side, nothing seemed broken.

There was a mirror in the room that instantly caught Halle’s attention. It was full-length, and she saw herself for the first time in months. Her hair had grown, down to somewhere around her shoulders, falling in tangled brown waves. Her face had thinned and her eyes seemed to have sunken slightly, the shadow of her brow bringing out the flecks of gold around her pupils. Muscles she didn’t even know she possessed were beginning to take form beneath taught skin. Even bandaged, she had a sharp and strong appearance, more confident than she felt.

Derek returned as she was taking an assessment of her condition. An odd mix of emotions overtook him the moment he saw her, and Halle’s heart instantly raced. She took a step toward him, swaying slightly at the pain in her knees. He was there in an instant, his arms supporting hers for balance.

“This is a bad idea.” His voice was low and it rumbled through his chest.

“I have a lot of those lately,” she said softly. Halle regained her footing and stepped away. She was afraid of what those dark eyes might see if she lingered too closely for too long. “Shall we?”

He pursed his lips together for a tentative breath but said nothing.

Derek walked first, holding the door open for her and leading her down a short flight of stairs. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held one of her hands in his as she hobbled downward. Daniel, Craig, Finch, and Arel were milling about in an upscale lobby, clearly waiting for her. Derek made no haste in dropping his hands from her person.

“You really are alive,” Daniel whispered, as though she was a ghost.

“Vhal!” Finch threw his arms around her shoulders, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“Finchnangle,” Derek cautioned, taking a step toward the Southerner.

“Vhal, you were stunning! It was like the Mother banishing the night. Just this tiny little thing against that huge, massive, gigantic, storm!” Finch babbled like a madman.

Another walked from a corner of the room, someone that Halle had not noticed before. Two emerald eyes assessed Halle thoughtfully.

“You’re one of the craziest people I’ve ever met.” Ledia placed a hand on her hip and shifted her weight to extend the other to Halle. “And because of that, I owe you my life.”

Halle reached out, clasping her bandaged palm against Ledia’s.

“Thank you, Halle Yarl,” Ledia uttered the most sincere words Halle had ever heard from her.

Halle was in a daze as she headed for the door. Derek held it open for her and she stepped out into the dawn. Red streaked across the horizon, washing a crowded square in oranges and pinks. Large buildings constructed of marble and sandstone glittered in the twilight. They sported proportionally sized pennons, reds and blacks of the West and whites and golds of the Empire. The ground beneath her was polished stone, and Halle looked upon the center of the world in wonder.That one.” Derek pointed to a building on the other side of the square with three large, circular stained glass windows upon its front. “Do you need me to help you?”

“No.” Halle shook her head. “Just knowing you’re here is enough.” She allowed him to read into it as he liked.

Halle had taken no more than three steps when the first member of the Black Legion noticed her. He walked over, giving her the salute of the Broken Moon. This inspired the next to come up and offer her thanks and praise. Her eyes caught Derek’s in confusion and wonder. He heaped silent admiration upon her, and Halle felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

It was slow going due to being stopped at every step. The Black Legion had been waiting at the door, but Halle noticed that the majority of the people in the square were soldiers. They paused what they were doing, stopping at the sight of her.

A man of rank drew the sword that was strapped to his hip. She glanced at Derek nervously, remembering the last time she’d encountered the swordsmen. The man brought his feet together and stood tall. His left hand went to the small of his back as he raised his sword over his chest and face in a pristine salute with his right.

She wasn’t certain what he wanted from her, and Halle nervously took another step. An older woman repeated the motion. Swordless, she brought her right fist to her chest in salute.

Halle took another step. Two more stepped forward in salute.

Every step Halle took there was another, and another, and another. They began to line her path, holding their salutes in reverence even after she’d moved on. Halle turned as the entire square—man, woman, child, soldier, and citizen—showed their own display of reverence.

“Do they always do this for you here?” Halle whispered to Derek. The attention made her nervous.

He stared at her, bewildered. “Halle,” Derek leaned close to her ear. “They are not saluting me, they are saluting you.”

No one said a word; they held their honors quietly, and their silence spoke so loudly in her ears that Halle wanted to cry. For the first time since becoming a sorcerer she felt a mass looking at her with respect, with praise. As much as it hurt her body, she held herself taller.

The Emperor and Prince Baldair were waiting on the outside the building Derek was leading her toward. Emperor Solaris surveyed the scene with his ocean-blue eyes, landing on the woman who was being led by his eldest son and saluted by his people. He folded his hands behind his back in a position that struck Halle as very Derek.

“If it is not the hero of the day.” The Emperor spoke loud enough that most of the square heard.

Halle dropped into a clumsy kneel, her knees popping and aching.

“My lord, thank you for your invitation,” she said respectfully, lowering her eyes.

“Stand, Halle Yarl. You are the most welcome savior of my army,” he commanded lightly.

Halle put both hands on her upward knee and struggled to stand, grimacing at the creaking in her legs. She felt much older than her eighteen years and could feel the tension radiating off Derek at her pain, but he made no motion. Halle was thankful he allowed her to do it on her own before his father and all those who had assembled.

“Come, I wish to bestow my thanks upon you.” The Emperor took a step back, and Prince Baldair held open the doors for them.

HHE BUILDING SHE entered was like a small palace. Alabaster, marble, silver, gold, and gemstones glittered everywhere. As the sun rose, it was piped in through portholes in the walls, giving the opulence new life. The Emperor led her into a side sitting room. There were couches and a table to eat at, opposite a tall, standing table cluttered with papers.

To her surprise the Emperor walked over to the table that did not hold the food. Prince Baldair walked around to his father’s right side, Derek hovered near her. He didn’t move until she did, her silent shadow.

“I would like to show you something.” Emperor Solaris motioned to her.

Halle walked over, Derek stood on her other side, leaving her right open to the Emperor. She assessed a large map and the Emperor pointed to a spot on the Great Imperial Way, just south of the Crossroads.

“This is where we were, when the sandstorm was upon us.” Halle’s eyes swung back to the Crossroads; they had been so close. As if reading her thoughts the Emperor continued, “The men at the front of the host were less than five minutes to the storm break walls.”

Halle stared at the map. She remembered the column running, but so many wouldn’t have made it.

“Tell me,” the Emperor asked as he stroked his beard and assessed her, “what orders would you have made?”

“Orders for?” she asked, not sure if she understood his question.

“If you were in my position, what call would you have made?”

She looked up at the man and then back to the map, taking a breath that was followed by an annoying cough at the feeling of sand in her lungs.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled. Keeping her face toward the table Halle tilted her head to the side. “I would have split the line.”

“Split the line?” It was Prince Baldair who asked.

Halle nodded. “One,” she pointed to the younger prince. “Two,” she turned to the Emperor. “Three,” she pointed to Derek. “Split it three ways. Keeping you central may make sense for a march; perhaps even in combat settings for protection, but for this, we’d be playing odds.”

“What odds are those?” The Emperor rested his hands on the table. Halle felt very short as the tabletop came up to her waist rather than her hips or lower like the taller men.

“Your lives,” she said matter-of-factly, surprised at the coolness her logic created in her voice. Prince Baldair actually had a somewhat horrified expression. Halle met the Emperor’s eyes. “If you three stayed at the center, you would have been in the middle of the storm, little more than a dozen horse lengths apart. If one of you died there is a great chance that whatever killed that person would kill those near him; the closer the proximity, the greater the odds of death. You three die, we all lose. If the Emperor and all heirs were suddenly lost, this realm has more than one battlefront.”

The Emperor rubbed his chin. “Go on.”

“You would all run in different directions with the fastest riders prepared to give their lives for you. It would be the best chance for survival,” Halle explained simply.

“You know that means half the host would be left behind on foot.” The Emperor regarded her thoughtfully.

“I know that.” She nodded. “They would be left to chance.” The word chance sounded nicer than death.

The younger prince seemed horrified, and Halle would have to turn to see Derek’s expression. The Emperor was almost too analytical in the way he seemed to calculate her words against an invisible tally. Halle brought her hands together, wringing them.

“You do have some intelligence to you,” the Emperor said lightly.

“My lord, if I am intelligent it is because you have filled your castle with good teachers.” She thought back to Mohned with a pang of homesickness.

“Ah, Halle, do not be so modest. Knowledge and power are a dangerous combination, and you appear to have both in quantity.” The Emperor turned and motioned toward the table that had been set with food.

Each person sat in turn. Derek pulled out her chair for her, though he didn’t offer her so much as a glance. Halle wondered what exactly had changed his demeanor. Clearly, whatever his concerns were they factored in calculated restraint. Derek sat to her right, Prince Baldair to her left, and the Emperor across.

Halle had not seen food so fine or a table so cluttered with silverware, glasses, and plates since she had dined with Prince Baldair back at the palace. The meal was hot and fresh and she barely managed to contain a particularly loud stomach grumble by placing a hand over her abdomen. She was careful to eat after the three royals had served themselves. Propriety was a convenient excuse. Halle had no idea which forks were meant to be used when or why they used a different fork for every dish—she just followed.