The Liberian

Chapter 46

Putting her left foot in the stirrup, she swung her right over easily, taking the reins. Halle had never been taught how to properly ride, but a horse or two was something her family always kept for the farm. From a young age she’d rode astride, so sitting in a saddle seemed a natural stance. Halle glanced around at the other recruits; it wasn’t so natural for many.

Taking the reins in one hand, she put her heels to the beast’s sides and steered him out of the stable stall. Her armor clanked as she found the rhythm of the horse. Halle rode over to where the major was beginning to form the line.

“Major,” she said.

“Good to see you know your way around a horse.” The major assessed Halle from her feet in the stirrups to her grip on the reins. “You’ll be close to center, Greg, at my right.” Referring to Fritz and Hardy by their last names, she added, “Charem next to you, then Neiress. Then everyone else whom I can trust to not die promptly in a scuffle will be on the outside and rear.”

Halle placed her horse in line with enough space on both sides. There was a small commotion behind her, and Halle turned in her saddle. The palace’s giant ceremonial doors opened with the clanking and grinding of a large chain, and the Imperial family marched into the sun.

Prince Baldair wore his golden armor, and it shone brilliantly against the light. The Emperor wore a similar suit with large plate but all in white. Derek stood in stark contrast. He wore White scale that covered his entire body, similar to what Halle wore. Strapped atop the scale mail were large White plates rimmed in gold, which went from his hands to his elbows, his feet to his knees, on his shoulders, and upper chest. All three held helmets tucked under their arms and wore long white cloaks that flapped around their upper calves.

He looked nothing like the prince she’d seen barely hours before. But he was still utterly familiar to her.

The other members of the Imperial family had their horses brought out to them, but no one seemed interested in bringing Derek his. He approached the stomping beast and calmed it with a hand, leading it from its stall.

Halle’s stare was broken as Hardy and Fritz rode over.

“Charem, Greg’s right. Neiress, after,” the major barked, and Fritz and Hardy fell in line around Halle.

“You’re holding the reins too tightly,” Halle advised quietly over Fritz to Hardy, who seemed to be having trouble controlling her horse. Hardy gave her an appreciative glance. Even though Halle would have rather them be safe in the Tower, she was glad to have her friends near her.

She began to notice strange glances from the other soldiers as more fell into line. There was a definite break between those dressed in silver and white and those dressed in silver and White. Friends were going to be in short supply on the march.

A quiet swept up from behind her, and the major turned. Derek sat atop his large War-strider, riding through the gap to Major Gales.

“My prince.” The major bowed her head.

“Major Gales.” Derek’s voice was sharp. “How many do we have?” His eyes scanned through the recruits.

“Just shy of fifty,” the major reported, confirming Halle’s suspicions that they were the smallest group.

“Then I want just shy of fifty coming home.” The prince took the reins in his hands as the major nodded. He directed his horse through the ranks, heading toward the front, but spared the second for a glance at Halle. Their eyes met, and his face relaxed a fraction, a conflicting mess of emotions building behind his stare.

Halle hardened her gaze as much as she could and gave him a small nod. He put his heels to his horse and posted a trot to the front of the line.

The time for sadness and pity was over. The girl who had come to the palace at eleven and lived her life in the library was dead; she’d been killed by the Senators whom she’d always been taught were sworn to protect her. The woman sitting in the saddle now had to find a heart crafted of White steel. She had to survive if for no other reason than to spite the world.

The host was in place, and the men and women shifted in their saddles. Halle clutched her reins tightly. She could do this, she told herself over the mental lies that her knees weren’t shaking in the stirrups.

“Open the gates!” the Emperor boomed.

The lower gates groaned to life, opening for the hoard of warriors behind them. The Emperor led the march as the host spilled out into the mountaintop city with a thunderous rumble. Somewhere at the front soldiers began to cry, a wordless shout of bloodlust, fear, victory, and hope.

Halle did not make a sound.

THE DIN OF the horses’ hooves on the cobblestone streets filled her ears. They set a brisk pace down the city and through the assembled crowds. More than one person stared with morbid curiosity or fear as the White Legion passed, and Halle struggled not to give the masses any heed.

But, despite her best efforts, her eyes wandered; Halle was faced with a mix of horror, fear, and anger. Sorcerers, they were outcasts and unwanted creatures and—as far as many of the crowd were concerned—they had overstepped their boundaries the moment they left the Tower. More than once, someone was bold enough to throw something at them, though it normally missed and hit a pole-armed soldier at their front or an archer at their backs. The White Legion was much smaller than the other groups.

By the increasing damage to the city, Halle realized they were close to the square of Sun and Moon. It had only been a few days since the already infamous Night of Fire and Wind, and most things were still in disrepair. Guilt swelled within her to near dizzying levels.

As they reached the lower wall of the city the houses became shorter, less opulent. It made the wall all the more impressive. The capital’s first line of defense was a massive structure that utilized natural features and stone of the mountain. The drawbridge of the main gate was already being lowered for the host to march through.

“Ride close!” Major Gales called from her left.

Halle steered her horse close to the center of the column, and they passed through the gate. The city continued to stretch on beyond the wall on the other side of the moat, a moat that would remain dry throughout the winter months. Even poorer homes lined the mountainside to the valley below.

The road they marched upon eventually came to a T against the Great Imperial Way, a road that ran from the border of the Empire in the North to the sea in the South. The host turned left and began to head in a northwestern direction. Laid stones made their path wide enough that the entire host could ride and march abreast, eleven to fifteen men side-by-side.

It wasn’t until they hit the forest that a horn blew long and low. The whole of the host slowed their pace, and the leaders called for a change in formation.Halle focused ahead; the whole army kept on while cleaving a hole down the middle. Derek, to his father’s left, slowed his horse and the soldiers marched forward around him. Then the Emperor stopped his mount, and finally the golden prince. The Imperial family fell into place among the ranks.

Prince Baldair stayed in the middle front with all the sword-bearing soldiers. The Emperor rode behind him among the pole-arms. A few rows after was Halle and the crown prince, who now occupied the space between her and the major. His War-strider was a large creature, and her waist was on the same level as Derek’s knee.

She glanced up at him, and caught his eyes on her at the same time. Halle gave a small bow of her head.

“My prince,” she said respectfully. He barely nodded and turned back to the major. Halle looked forward. She wanted to believe that it was simply chance how the formation had lined up, but she was too smart for that. The man to her left gave nothing to chance.

In truth, she was fairly certain it was the safest place to be in the host—near the center, next to one of the most powerful sorcerers alive. Halle told herself that relief was the reason for the warmth that relaxed her shoulders at the thought that he’d be near her.

The legions had slowed to little more than a walk and the banners were struck. The time for pomp had ended, and everyone seemed to settle in for the long trip north. The war had been raging for four long years, and victory was one winter away. At least, the Emperor had said such.

Halle glanced behind her; in between the two back legions moved supply carts. It seemed a large amount of supplies for a victory that was only supposed to take a few months. She mused if the Emperor hadn’t been entirely true in his time estimates.

The forest became denser, and soon they rarely passed any houses. Occasionally game and hunting trails stretched out from the road, but there was little else. The trees fractured the light from the Mother Sun, splotching the road ahead. Chatter began to fill the air, and it was a fairly peaceful ride.

But Halle didn’t know if she could feel peaceful, she didn’t know if she could sit easily in her saddle and prattle on about this or that. Every shift in her armor reminded her why she was there. She was a soldier now, property of the crown.

“How long has it been since you’ve been out of the city?” Fritz asked. The Southerner had other plans than to let her sit silently and wallow in her misfortune.

“It’s been a while,” Halle finally replied.

“Really?” he seemed genuinely surprised. “How often do you go home?”

“The last time I went home ...” Halle’s words trailed off, thinking of a farmhouse amid a field of golden wheat. She’d sent a letter to her father just a few days ago, trying to get word to him faster than rumors could fly. The thought put a lump in her throat, as though she’d somehow tarnished the happy memories her family had made in their home with her sorcery and crimes. “For my coming of age, I think?”

“What?” Fritz was aghast. “Fifteen? It’s been three years since you went home? My mother and sisters would have my skin if I didn’t come home for three years.” Fritz laughed his infectious laugh.

Halle cracked a smile. “You have sisters?” As an only child she sometimes wondered what it’d be like to have a sibling.

“Four of them,” Hardy chimed in from Fritz’s right. She seemed to be much more comfortable on the horse now that it was barely moving. “And you should see them all together. Thank the Mother they’re not all sorcerers or it would be the Charem family against the world.”

“You’ve met them?” Halle’s curiosity compelled her to ask.

“Once.” Hardy nodded.

“How long have you known each other?”

The two exchanged a look before turning back to Halle.

“Seven years,” Hardy said.

“Eight years,” Fritz proclaimed.

They both glared at each other.

“No, it’s seven. You came the year after my coming of age.” Hardy counted on her fingers.

“No, eight, I just turned thirteen,” Fritz argued.