I rode between Theodor and Kristos, at both of their insistence. Sianh, along with a few officers selected by him for exceptional service, rode behind us, and the First Regiment quickly martialed itself to follow while the rest of the soldiers took on the work left in the wake of the battle—securing prisoners, locating the injured, aiding in the field hospitals. I felt exposed on my mount, on display along with the leadership of the army of the Republic of Galitha, but as we took a steady pace across the battlefield, I suppressed any argument. I had fought here, too. I forced myself to look at the battered redoubts, bodies still lying where they had fallen, at the artillery pieces, abandoned at the last minute by Royalist soldiers but with curse magic still clinging to the places where I had sunk it into wood of carriages and emplacements.
I turned my face away from the field. I knew the death we had wrought here. It was impossible to deny, to forget. It pressed itself into my memory, that I dealt out loss just as the cannons and muskets had. With a heavy sigh, I looked instead toward the open gate of Galitha City.
I had seen my city thousands of times, the gate we rode through as familiar as a corner of my house or the shape of my own fingernails. I had seen it in summer, winter, and every weather, but I had never seen it from horseback, lined with cheering and weeping citizens.
I looked over the crowd gathered to watch as we rode toward Fountain Square, where I knew Niko’s headquarters had been and where ours would, at least temporarily, be. Most looked weary, worn to their cores, and pale, but with the first blush of revival sweeping their cheeks and underused smiles creeping over their faces. They were thin, most of them. Clothes needed mending. Buildings needed repair. There were certainly logistics of feeding and housing all of these people to address—the larders of the besieged city were sure to be scraping thin, and many houses were uninhabitable.
For now, for today, I could only smile, joy, relief, and real, tangible hope breaking across my face like sunrise. The people lining the avenue felt the same, I knew. The storm was over. Morning had broken, finally, clear and promising. And so many people! As though all of Galitha City had gathered, united in celebration that, if nothing else, tomorrow had finally come and it had not brought death and destruction.
We spilled into Fountain Square. We were met by not only more crowds of cheering citizens but by a bloc of Niko’s red-capped army. Niko Otni stood at their head, a polished spontoon in his hand. Beside me, Kristos and Theodor slowed, and Sianh ordered the regiment behind us to come to a halt.
Niko took two paces forward and met first Kristos’s eyes, and then, briefly, mine. There was still a dark determination there, as though this battle was not over. I clenched my fists around the reins, and my horse skittered backward, sensing my anxiety. Readying to fight, I knew as I felt the muscles tense and spring beneath me, and I took a steadying breath and forced myself to relax.
Niko broke into a wide smile and lowered his spontoon. Kristos dismounted and embraced him, then Theodor. I dismounted last, but did not approach him. I glanced at Sianh, who had taken the reins of Kristos’s horse. He nodded once, keeping his eyes on Niko.
“We must begin to settle this split army into one whole. I will find someone to take the mounts,” he said.
“We’re meeting in Otni’s headquarters now,” Theodor said, joining us. “We need to decide—”
“Many things,” I said quietly, laying my hand on his arm.
56
“I SAY WE EXECUTE THE LOT OF THEM,” NIKO SAID. “THEY WOULD have done no less for us.”
“Be that as it may, that doesn’t mean executing regular troops is within the conventions of war,” Theodor said. “Nor the terms of the surrender we negotiated.”
“Sod your conventions! And I wasn’t present at your negotiations,” Niko said. “What’s to stop them from mustering against us again if we just—what? Let them go?”
“The regulars are paid to fight,” Kristos countered. “They’re not going to take up arms without that. And we control the treasury now, remember?”
“We control some of it. Too much of it is still tied up in noble estates,” Niko said. “But fine. We’ll shelve discussing what to do with the soldiers.”
“No,” Kristos said, “we’re done discussing it. We have to conduct ourselves as a legitimate government moving forward, and that means honoring our treaties and pacts.” Theodor nodded in agreement, and Annette slipped quietly into the room.
I caught her hand in relief—we hadn’t had bad news out of the harbor, still simmering with smoking ships, but that didn’t reassure me until I saw her in person. Her hair was a disheveled mess beneath her cocked hat, and there were scorch marks on her wool coat. I asked my question without speaking—was she all right?
She forced a small smile, but there was a haunted hollowness in her eyes, and I saw—she had made the decision to send the fire ships into the harbor and knew already, knew in her deepest core, that she would have to live with that decision for the rest of her life.
“Your treaty is less important than the larger question anyway,” Niko said.
“Which is?” Kristos waited patiently.
Niko was almost enjoying this, I thought bitterly as he unrolled a large map. All of Galitha spread over the table between us, the southern coastline and eastern forests, the mountains and the rivers cupping broad plains between them. Marked in reds and golds across the map were, I realized as I squinted, noble estates.
“As I said.” Niko cleared his throat. “The nobles still own most of the land producing grain and, ultimately, gold. How do you prevent another insurrection when they have every advantage?”
A sour silence permeated the room. “I suppose you had something in mind,” I said.
“As a matter of fact—”
“But it’s not your choice,” I said.
“The hell it isn’t! It’s not yours,” Niko shouted. “You and your prince don’t make the rules here.”
“Never said we did,” I replied. “But you don’t, either. We have a Council of Country. Properly elected. Now that we’ve combined with the forces here, your men will elect representatives from their ranks to fill the rest of the seats. And then they can make the decisions.”
Niko narrowed his eyes. “How do I trust that this council isn’t seeded with nobles?”
“Oh, never fear,” Kristos said. “We’ve got a couple.”
“What!” Niko slammed his hand on the table. “Of all the gall. I believed it of your simpering sister, Balstrade, I certainly believe it of that crown prince buffoon, but—”
“They joined the Reformist fight willingly. They earned their voice.”
“A voice to drown the rest of us out,” Niko said.
“They’re solidly in the minority,” Kristos said. “There’s no way they can swing the vote toward their interests.” His voice lowered, almost dangerous. “And they fought and died for us, too.”
“We can’t have any left. None. What they did—damn your eyes, Balstrade! You saw that field, flooded with the blood of our countrymen, and you’d forget already that the nobility did that?”