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Instead, she allowed Taristan to help her dismount. Both stalked off while grooms attended to their horses, to the grand tent already waiting at the crest of a nearby hill.
To her surprise, Lord Thornwall followed them, his face pulled in trepidation. As before, the campaign suited him. He was a soldier above all things. But something shadowed his eyes.
“My lord?” Erida asked.
Thornwall gave a shallow bow. “You should join the council tonight, Your Majesty.”
Erida only blinked. “Is there something I don’t know?”
Quickly, Thornwall shook his head. “No, of course not. My reports to you have been complete.”
Indeed, every morning he delivered painstakingly written reports of the campaign, from army movements to the bickering of her lords over their campfires.
She narrowed her eyes, searching her commander. “Then is there something you cannot handle, Lord Thornwall?”
Again, he shook his head violently. “No.”
The wound on her palm itched, still throbbing from a day of riding. Erida fought the urge to clench a fist and worsen the pain.
“Then?” she bit out.
Thornwall looked between Erida and Taristan, his teeth on edge. He drew a long breath.
“It would do your lords well to see you,” he said. “Both of you.”
The Queen could not help but loose a long peal of laughter, even as the shadow inside her sneered.
“Do they not see enough of me on the campaign?” she balked. “I rideamong them, at the head of my own cavalry. Not even my father did that, did he?”
Not even my father. Nor any king before him. Only I am brave enough to ride with the vanguard, to travel as a soldier would.Her thoughts spiraled, each one sharper than the last. Darker and darker, threatening to tip her over.Balance, she told herself, clenching her teeth. Her fist curled, and pain lanced up her arm. It steadied her.
My mind is my own.
“That is true, Your Majesty,” Thornwall allowed, lowering his eyes.
Erida only straightened, her voice firmer. “I am finished doting on the whims of petty lords. It is beneath me,” she said plainly. “Coddle them yourself. I will not.”
To her shock, Thornwall’s head snapped back up, his eyes meeting hers with resolve usually saved for the battlefield.
“Those petty lords command thousands of soldiers,” he replied, harsher than she knew he could be.
Her knuckles turned white, her curled fist tightening until the pain turned the edge of her vision red. It was all she could do to keep level.
“No, my lord Thornwall,” she hissed back. “You do.”
And you answer to me.
Despite the vast war camp organizing around them, many thousands of horse and soldiers settling in for the night, Erida heard only silence. It pooled between queen and commander, but Lord Thornwall held his ground. He said nothing, only staring, and Erida saw a little of the soldier beneath the facade of an old man. Determined, intelligent, and deadly.
Any response died in her throat, as Erida searched for something to say.
“You promised my queen a head, Lord Thornwall.”
Taristan’s voice shattered the silent wall. He glared down at themilitary commander, his simmering fury on full display.
Bring me a head. You choose which.Erida commanded as much back in Ascal.Corayne. Domacridhan. The Amhara. Konegin. Bring me my enemies.
Lord Thornwall had failed to find a single one.
