“No prisoners,” mused Kristos. “No executions. That sounds very well indeed.”
“Then we have struck a bargain?” Merhaven was too eager.
I could almost sense the deep breath Theodor took before he began to speak. “We can be persuaded to allow the soldiers and officers of the Royalist army to remain free, under the good faith of parole, under no penalty, provided of course that their loyalty remains to Galitha. Whatever government Galitha enacts, they shall serve it, or they leave the service of the army immediately and return to their homes.”
There was a stifling silence under the pavilion. “We can discuss the army separately,” Merhaven finally said. “We require such for those nobles leading this army.”
“I thought I noticed a strange emphasis on we in that first statement,” Kristos said. “Surely you aren’t attempting to negotiate solely for yourselves and your highest-ranking officers?” I could imagine his face, half a grin lilting across it, his eyes sparking. “That would not look well, willingness to abandon an offer of parole for your entire force, in favor of protecting your own flesh. Tsk, tsk.”
Merhaven had never, I imagined, encountered anyone quite like Kristos, and I could imagine the red tinge spreading over his ears and cheeks. But it was the king who spoke instead. “Theodor, you must think reasonably. It would be barbarous to imprison your own father and sister.”
“It was barbarous to bring war to your own countrymen because you didn’t like laws passed in their consideration.” My heart ached for Theodor, for the control in his voice, for the dearth of emotion I knew must have been painful for him to achieve. “We will accept your surrender. Your army will have parole, under the limitations we’ve discussed. But you and the commanding officers of this army will stand trial before your countrymen for your crimes. That is the offer we make.”
“Then we will execute the witch we captured,” Pommerly interjected.
“You will return my sister, or we will rescind the offer of parole for your army,” Kristos half shouted.
“No, you won’t,” Merhaven said. “Because that wouldn’t look well.” Kristos had set himself up perfectly for that, I thought with withering hope. “So the witch dies, unless you are willing to grant us the same protection as the army.”
“No.” I started at Polly’s voice. “No, she does not. What laws has she broken?”
“Lady Apollonia, this is not a good time to—”
“To what, Father? To remind everyone that we are bound by certain conventions, certain laws, and that this woman hasn’t broken any of them?” She laughed lightly, exemplifying that control I wasn’t sure I could ever muster. “If you want a law against casting, I suggest one be enacted. But she was a combatant in this battle, the same as any man-at-arms captured. See?” I felt her light fingers on my arm, on the red wool trim of my gray riding habit. “She is even in uniform.” I felt her hand tremble slightly over mine.
The silence was oppressive, beating against my ears as the darkness assaulted my unseeing eyes. “Very well,” the king finally said. “We’ve played our hand, and it turns out that both of my children carry trump cards of laws and ethics. Would that I had raised them poorly.” Yet even then, in the face of crushing defeat and the end of life as he understood it, there was a faint spark of pride when he spoke of Theodor and Polly. “You have our surrender.”
55
SIANH REMOVED THE BINDINGS FROM MY WRISTS A MOMENT LATER, and I tore the blindfold from my eyes and ran to Theodor and Kristos. I flung myself at both of them, surprised to realize I was sobbing even as I laughed.
“Slow down, there,” Kristos said as he half tumbled into a tent pole and the entire pavilion shook. Theodor caught my hand and I saw that a coarse bandage wrapped Kristos’s calf.
“Oh! Oh you’re—”
“Nothing serious, shot just grazed it a bit.”
“Your brother bleeds like a hog,” Sianh said.
“I think you mean ‘stuck pig,’” Kristos said. “And yes, I don’t do anything halfway. It’s fine,” he reassured me, but I swiftly pulled a charm from the ether and embedded it into the fibers of the bandage, imbuing it with health. The effort on top of the rush of emotion made me light-headed, and the edges of my vision faded toward light.
“Steady,” Theodor said. The trio of Royalist leadership, and Polly, had already been marched away under guard, and three coffee-colored camp chairs they had set up like thrones for the interview remained. Theodor guided me toward one, and Kristos, with a grunt, gratefully settled into another.
Theodor quickly related the ending of the battle. “We crossed the halfway mark, and Otni did not deploy. I assumed Fig didn’t make it through. It was close for a while, but suddenly they all poured out of the main gate like a flood.”
“It wasn’t Fig’s fault,” I said. “The Serafans were casting on the city, from the harbor. We couldn’t have seen it from our position, even if I’d been there,” I added. “If Annette hadn’t sent in the fire ship, I don’t know if they could have been stopped.”
“Sweet Galatine Divine,” murmured Theodor. “It was never a strategy we discussed, but I suppose I always knew it was an option. A desperate one—if we wished to retain the Galatine naval vessels for the Republic. All of those ships, destroyed?”
“Enough of them, surely.” Sianh’s mouth was set in a firm line. “There is an expression in Serafan. ‘Better to drown than burn, better to burn than drown.’”
My mouth was dry. “Are all your expressions that depressing?”
“I could not say.” He shook his head. “But what a terrible way to perish.”
“Let’s not discuss it any longer,” I whispered. “Is it over? Really and truly?”
“The Royalist army is secured,” Theodor confirmed, “and we’re in the process of combing the area and searching near the harbor. Everyone is being kept under guard and arms requisitioned. We will have to figure out exactly how to—what? Muster them out?”
“They have terms.” Kristos shrugged. “They’ll need to decide if they’re loyal to a new Republic of Galitha or if they want to find other employment.”
“We shall not send our troops home quickly,” Sianh cautioned. “Until we are assured there are no holdouts, no southern lords ready to fight.”
“You expect that?”
“I expect many things that never happen,” Sianh said with a grin. I finally felt the wash of relief I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for at his smile. The grim battlefield demeanor was gone, and he was, though still engaged in serious matters, lighter. “But for now, there is a city to march into in triumph.”
Sianh secured horses for all of us; his mount and Theodor’s were not fresh and, as he said, deserved a rest and some oats. There were no sidesaddles to be had, so I was obliged to hitch my skirts awkwardly around my legs. The wool molded against my legs like a pair of unattractive breeches, and I would have cared less that I looked like a country bumpkin riding the family mule to market if we weren’t about to parade in front of the entire population of Galitha City.