Fire Falling - Kova Elise - Страница 36

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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, Aldrik 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.

Vhalla walked over, Aldrik 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.” Vhalla’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.”

Vhalla 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 Vhalla tilted her head to the side. “I would have split the line.”

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

Vhalla nodded. “One,” she pointed to the younger prince. “Two,” she turned to the Emperor. “Three,” she pointed to Aldrik. “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. Vhalla 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. Vhalla 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,” Vhalla 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 Vhalla would have to turn to see Aldrik’s expression. The Emperor was almost too analytical in the way he seemed to calculate her words against an invisible tally. Vhalla 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, Vhalla, 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. Aldrik pulled out her chair for her, though he didn’t offer her so much as a glance. Vhalla wondered what exactly had changed his demeanor. Clearly, whatever his concerns were they factored in calculated restraint. Aldrik sat to her right, Prince Baldair to her left, and the Emperor across.

Vhalla 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. Vhalla had no idea which forks were meant to be used when or why they used a different fork for every dish—she just followed.

“This is an incredibly peculiar situation, don’t you think, Miss Yarl?” the Emperor started.

“Vhalla is fine,” she said, unsure if it was appropriate to offer. It felt weird having both of his sons call her by her first name and to have the man who sat above both of them be more formal.

He ignored her and continued, “It is not normal for someone to sit on trial for murder and treason and then dine with the Emperor only a couple months later.”

“Very few things I find in my world are what I would call normal at this moment, my lord.” She nibbled on bread, her brain continuing to obsess over being in love with the crown prince.

The Emperor chuckled. “Yet you rebound and become stronger. I knew you had strength in you when I saw you in that cage.”

Vhalla continued to try to eat politely, struggling with her bandaged fingers. She didn’t want to think of her trial. She didn’t even really want to be sitting at this table.

“I am prepared to pardon you for your crimes,” the Emperor mused, sipping his wine.

She stared in shock. A pardon? Someone needed to pinch her, she was dreaming. “My lord?”

“You earned sufficient trust for a second chance by saving the life of one prince. I think potentially saving the life of the Imperial family, perhaps the Emperor himself, earns you a clean slate.” He wore a smile beneath his beard but his eyes were detached from any levity.

Vhalla paused. Saving the life of one prince? Did that mean Aldrik had told him what had really happened on the Night of Fire and Wind? She refrained from looking over to the crown prince.

“Thank you, my lord.” Vhalla lowered her eyes.

“But you see, my hands are tied.” The Emperor chewed thoughtfully on a piece of dark meat, before dabbing his mouth with his napkin and continuing. “The Senate, the voice of the people, they saw your military service as the fitting punishment, and I would not want to betray the trust of my loyal subjects.”

“Of course not ...” Vhalla said numbly, the word pardon echoed over and over again in her head.

“Don’t be fooled, Vhalla. They’re as hungry as ever, and if I pardoned you now those same people out there who were saluting you would turn again.” The Emperor glanced up at her.

From the corners of her eyes she could see Aldrik shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“But if you were to give us victory.” The man chuckled. “Now that would be something worth reward.”

“Victory? I don’t know how I could ...” Vhalla fumbled. Her sentence seemed to be increasing, not diminishing. Before she was only meant to serve in the war; now she had to bring victory? Had they ever planned on freeing her?

The Emperor’s icy blue eyes flicked over to Aldrik. The eldest prince took a very long dreg of his wine. “My son tells me he’s been working with you on something important.”

Vhalla said nothing for fear of incriminating her and Aldrik with something he’d yet to mention to his father. But there were things she couldn’t imagine him ever saying. Despite herself, she glanced at the dark prince.

“He tells me you can give me the North with your powers as a Windwalker.” The Emperor leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

“I am still learning most of my own abilities myself,” she hedged carefully.

“I have been made aware.” The Emperor waved the concerns away. “Aldrik has sent me detailed reports of your investigations into them.”

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