Page 41 of Blood of the Sands

Nobody here but me, I added internally, for I still harbored my doubts. The queen insisted that the power of the desert in me was a sign that she favored me, likely even enough to be her Champion. Every time Queen Ginevera mentioned the Trials, I swallowed my doubts, knowing that she and Aderyn were counting on me. I was loathe to disappoint them. Still, after training for mere months, I was dubious about my ability to best more experienced competitors, let alone a rider who seemed more myth than man.

“Based on your correspondence, it is imperative that she does win,” Lyall interjected. A hush fell over the room at the comment, and the rest of the advisors at the table abandoned their conversations in favor of listening in on ours.

“I had hoped to let you enjoy more of your meal before burdening you with Kelvadan’s requests,” Queen Ginevra admitted, “but it is true. Our city has much at stake in the coming Trials.”

Hadeon looked at her with interest as Lyall stared stonily, waiting for her to continue.

“If one of the competitors from the clans, a rider known as the Viper, is successful, the clans may unite against Kelvadan and attack. With their combined force, a civil war in the desert could spell death for many.”

“Civil war?” Hadeon echoed. “Would it really come to that?”

“I’m afraid war is a language the clans of the Ballan Desert speak well,” Aderyn answered this time.

“And why should a Civil war concern Viltov?” Lyall asked frankly. “Although we have sailed to the coast on the far side of the desert, we have never made contact with the clans. Their activities do not affect us.”

I bristled at his callousness, but Queen Ginevra’s placid, diplomatic expression did not slip an inch. “Viltov has traded with Kelvadan since the days of my grandfather. If the city were to fall, Viltov would not be able to acquire goods from the Ballan Desert.”

Lyall appeared unmoved by the prospect of loss of trade. “While our wives certainly appreciate your textiles, you’ve never traded with us the one thing we’ve tried to bargain for many times.”

Queen Ginevra sat up straighter. “Perhaps arrangements can be made in exchange for your help protecting Kelvadan from the unrest of the clans.”

“Are you saying you would consider trading your horses?” Hadeon asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye, and I chanced a glance at Kaius, who shifted in his seat. Some of the same discomfort in his movement echoed through my bones. Horses were sacred to the Ballan Desert.

“Negotiations could be opened if Viltov or Doran offered military aid to Kelvadan,” the queen answered.

“Then Viltov will stay and consider if military aid will be required,” Lyall responded in a non-answer that I was coming to realize was the way of these politicians.

“Hopefully you are as touched by the desert as the queen mentioned”—Hadeon inclined his head toward me—“and it does not come to civil war at all.”

“You can’t actually believe that the desert choses her Champion with some kind of magic,” Lyall retorted.

Hadeon shrugged. “If these people have never seen snow, perhaps there are things here that I have not seen yet.”

After that, conversation started up again but remained stilted for the rest of the evening. I focused on eating as neatly as possible, although my fingers still ended up sticky from dates, and I brushed crumbs from my lips hastily with the back of my hands.

My hopes that this meeting would relieve some of the crushing pressure of the Trials sank miserably. Instead of having an alternative to protect Kelvadan should the Viper be crowned champion, all we had accomplished was further scrutiny on the competition. Only weeks away now, it barreled down on us like an out-of-control horse.

As soon as the meal was cleared, Lyall swept from the room, barely taking the time to wish the assembled group a good evening. For the remaining diners, small cups of laka were poured, and everybody began to mill about the room once more.

Without thought, I drifted toward the open door to the terrace. As casual as the tone of conversation was, the dining room remained thick with expectations and anxiety of the coming war. The stars called my name from the now dark sky, drawing me out into the open air where the wind smelled of hot sand and freedom.

As I leaned on the railing around the terrace, nursing my cup of laka carefully—the queen had warned me that too much could counteract the lyra leaves’ effect—a figure stepped up beside me. I turned, expecting to see Aderyn, standing steadfast as ever in support. Instead, Hadeon stopped beside me, looking up at the stars as I did.

“Don’t let Lyall bother you. Viltov was never going to send help,” he mused.

“They still might,” I argued, although I had to agree that Lyall’s demeanor had been icy from the beginning. “Why else would he stay for the Trials?”

“To keep an eye on me.” Hadeon rested his elbow on the railing, propping his chin in his hand. As he tilted his head to look at me, a strand of his immaculately styled golden hair fell forward across his forehead. Instead of looking messy, I got the impression that he spent hours coiffing it with potions and pomades, so it fell just so when the moment arose.

“On you?”

“Doran and Viltov have been rivals for generations. The islands Viltov inhabits were once part of our nation before they invaded. They have their eyes on the mainland too, already occupying a few coastal cities. However, my king believes that the islands should be part of Doran once more, but he cannot mount an attack on them without losing ground on the mainland. So, we remain at a stalemate.” Hadeon illustrated the conflict for me.

“And so why should your kings care about Kelvadan when war already marches on their own territory?” I asked. Realizing my argument was against my own best interest, I snapped my mouth shut.

“Letting one of us get the advantage over the other would be disastrous. So, where an ambassador from one country goes, another must follow.” Hadeon spread his hands. “Rumor has it that horses from the Ballan Desert would mount the greatest cavalry in the world. But if one of us were to supply troops to Kelvadan and thin our defenses, it could leave us open to attack from the other. And so, we watch, and we wait.”