Page 88 of Heart of the Desert

Warrick had jumped down from the lead ship when Erix and I had stopped conjuring wind to push them at the scout’s approach. Now he joined the lords, somehow managing to be an imposing presence even when we all sat on horseback and he stood on the ground.

“You will not win victory from Viltov in a head on battle,” he argued. “A charge against armored spearmen would be suicide for many of your cavalry.”

“No, we will not break their lines in a charge,” I admitted. “But I will lead a charge regardless.”

The lords exchanged wary glances.

“We need to draw them away from the water source. The riders of four clans and the warriors of Doran, led by the queen Calix failed to destroy, should be enough to draw out their armies.”

“And who will retake the water supply once we all perish?” Warrick folded his arms.

“We will tell the other clans to attack from the rear while we draw their attention—destroy their camp and claim their oasis,” I explained.

“It is not wise to send a falcon,” Aderyn argued. “Calix has proven able to intercept them easily before.”

“Then we will send our fastest rider to command the attack,” Erix said.

“And the fastest rider would be—”

“Me,” Erix concluded.

The air escaped my lungs in a rush, even though I had known it was coming. Erix had sensed my intentions the moment I started speaking—he was too wise in the ways of clan warfare and too deeply embedded in my own feelings not to.

But I did not relish being separated from him in battle. I wanted him next to me, where we could protect each other side by side. The bond between us tightened for a second, and I knew Erix felt it too.

Even so, we both knew we could coordinate an attack from two sides unlike any other. With the bond between us fresh and strong and growing by the day once more, we would know where the other was and when they engaged in battle. And with it, we would know where the other half of our forces were.

“Prepare your riders for battle,” I told the lords and Warrick. “Erix will set out immediately, and we will attack soon after.”

Each lord hurried off to alert their warlord and assemble their own warriors. Everybody else would create a makeshift camp to await the results of the battle. I kneed Daiti around, pulling him up next to Erix. As I did, Alza and the stallion bumped noses as if they too were having their own private conversation.

As little as Daiti tolerated other horses, he and Alza had grown used to each other’s company, and I suspected he even liked the black mare. Perhaps they wished each other luck in the coming battle. I hoped Daiti told Alza to keep her rider safe.

Erix leaned in as close as he could on two separate horses. “I do not know if Calix himself is in that camp, but he will want you dead. He does not seem like the type of man to be complacent that you escaped him.”

“That is exactly why I have to stay and lead the charge,” I said. “And the people of the other Clans already respect your power. They will follow you into battle, even if they are thirsty and harried already.”

Erix nodded. “We will fight toward each other, and when we meet on the battlefield, we will know our enemy is vanquished.”

“I much prefer this to meeting with swords drawn against each other.” I smiled ruefully.

“Be safe,” Erix murmured. “I don’t want to have to break the desert even further to bring you back.”

“I would kill you myself if you were to break the Heart of the desert for me.”

“I know. And I would love you even more for it.”

Before I could answer, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I didn’t want it to be a kiss goodbye, so I filled it with a promise—the promise that we would find each other on the battlefield. We were the High Lords of the Desert, and together, our power would save our home and all its people.

Erix’s lips were firm and warm against mine, and I memorized the shape of them, as if I hadn’t already. Then, too quickly, it was over.

He sat up straight, and the commanding face of the warrior slid into place. It sent a pleasant shiver up my spine. Without another word, he kicked Alza into a gallop, and his dark silhouette retreated across the golden sand, arcing out wide away from the Viltov encampment.

I watched him go, waiting for a sinking in my gut at the feeling of being left, but it never came. Because I knew he would come back. He would fight against all three goddesses and their mother in the sky to get back to me, as I would him.

Instead, the gnawing in the pit of my belly was much deeper. This fight was not just about the two of us. The fate of the desert rested on our shoulders. While I would spill as much blood of my enemies as I could to satisfy her, I couldn’t guarantee some of our own blood wouldn’t be spilled in return.

A bump against my knee drew my attention away from Erix’s retreating form, now barely visible, and Alza galloped swiftly over the sand. I looked over to find Aderyn atop her own roan. The handles of her sickle blades stuck up behind her shoulders in addition to the saber at her hip. A dark line of paint was drawn across her eyes, from temple to temple, to keep the sun out of her gaze in the traditional battle paint of the desert.