Page 30 of Memory of Ashes

“Danae?” she asked.

“She’s staying too.”

She felt the men’s eyes upon her. Their gazes made her shrink.

“I don’t want there to be a war over me,” she whispered. Men would die because of her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Ruven turned to her, considering. “It’s not just over you. There’s more to it than that. Grab some breakfast and meet me outside,” he said, and strolled out of the hall.

She grabbed a goblet of water, some bread and an apple from the table and stood with her back to the wall, eating, watching the warriors as they prepared. Some laughed and joked, while others remained silent.

She shouldn’t be there; she was an outsider, watching from the edge. She’d often felt like that throughout her life.

She was preparing to leave when the mood abruptly changed. The king entered and took his seat on the dais, and Amelia retreated further into the shadows. She was about to flee the hall when the king rose. The room fell silent.

“Today is the beginning of us taking back what’s ours,” the king began solemnly. He surveyed the warriors gathered before him. “I promised you all long ago that I’d lead us home, back to the lives that we were supposed to have. Now we have an opportunity. Do not squander it.” He turned to the corner of the dais where Casyl now stood. She hadn’t recognised him in his armour: black leather beneath an engraved silver breastplate. He held a helmet at his side, fashioned with wings sweeping from the back and openings for the small antlers protruding from his head.

“Lead us to victory,” he ordered, and Casyl bowed solemnly as the men in the hall cheered.

Kings always believed they were living in important times. Archaeology had taught her that they all ended up as dust.

She darted out into the yard where Ruven stood talking with Danae. What did he mean? Back to the lives they were supposed to have?

The soldiers filed out of the hall and lined up in the yard. She’d never seen so many men gathered in one place. Some had horses, but most of them were on foot. It took them a while to get organised, but she stood silently watching, mesmerised.

Casyl walked out of the hall with Tharos following.

He strode past the assembled soldiers and headed towards the front, mounting a huge black horse, whose mane was braided to one side.

All eyes were on him.

His attention swept across the yard and settled briefly on Amelia before moving to Ruven and Danae. He nodded once and then turned, urging his horse forward as the gate opened with the clang of metal.

She watched as they streamed out of the fortress gates, disappearing into the horizon, and wished she could see where they were going.

She told herself that she was relieved to see him go. Yet as the army disappeared into the distance, the fortress suddenly felt emptier.

“Right, let’s begin,” Ruven said.

*

When she returned to her room that night, she found the broken figure from Casyl’s room resting on her windowsill. She closed her hand around it and wondered where he was.

*

Her pillow was soaked with sweat. It was still dark. The fortress had been quiet these past few days with the lack of soldiers, and any noise in the night would jolt her awake.

She’d been having vivid dreams—or nightmares—of battle. Every night it was as if she were looking out through someone else’s eyes. The reek of blood, sweat, and wet leather made it feel real.

Men were fighting other men in the pouring rain. The clang of metal hitting metal rang in her ears as giant creatures devoured men whole.

She got up and left her room, heading towards the Viewpoint, searching for the emptiness a glass of wine would bring.

As she walked through the corridors, rapid footsteps approached.

“Amelia, there you are. You need to come with us, quickly,” Danae said. Ruven stood beside her, and both wore armour.

“What’s wrong?”