It was easy to pick out the new recruits in the crowd since they didn’t wear official palace uniforms. Instead, they wore plain tunics and thick leather belts strong enough to hold swords. Identical expressions looked back at her. Expectant.
She took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm the skittering inside. With a fist over her heart, she began. “My people.” How could so many loyal faces fill her with such terror?
The answer to that question came easily. They counted on her. If something happened to them, all fault would lie on her. What a perfect thought to seize her at the very beginning of her speech.
The parchment in her hand held the words she had previously prepared, but they suddenly seemed insufficient to what she was about to ask. Rio’s warning to keep the plan vague rang through her. Holding onto that thought, she lifted one hand high in the air.
A little flame burst from her palm, growing until it formed a wall of fire that burned above her. “Our empire has harbored fear and oppression for too long.”
With her other hand, she pulled tiny droplets of water out of the air and froze them into little snowflakes that rained down on the wall of fire. “The greatest change takes place over time.” Each snowflake fizzled into steam once it collided with the flaming wall. But each fizzle also reduced the height of the wall.
Her soldiers continued to stand still with their hands clasped behind their backs, but every eye had turned up in wonder at the sight above them. While the snowflakes continued to drift onto the dwindling wall of fire, she continued. “We cannot change every problem in Kamdaria right away.”
With a jerk of the wrist, her snowflakes turned to pelting hail while strong drifts of wind moved away from the fire. Soon, the great burning wall had diminished to nothing more than a wisping single flame. “But sometimes a single event can mark the beginning of important changes.”
Letting her hands wave in a great flourish, the hail and fire both disappeared into the air. When she looked to her soldiers now, an energy stirred among them. It wound through the rows and floated up to her like a beacon of hope.
Her hands fell to her sides as she leaned slightly forward. “Today I ask something of you that I have never asked before.” Terror rocked through her, burning into her throat. But now wasn’t the time to back down. “I ask you to go to battle for me.”
Maybe she imagined it, but every spine seemed to straighten a little more. That reaction caused her next words to thicken inside her chest, not quite willing to be released. Perhaps holding her chin higher would help. “The first part of the battle is only a distraction. I will be gone, and I would ask that you make safety your highest priority during that time. When I return, we will attack more forcefully and do everything possible to win the battle.”
Lowered eyebrows filled the ranks while they all contemplated her request. No matter how frightened she might have been, this wasn’t the time to let her voice falter. “My soldiers, I know what I ask is great, and I know it puts you in danger.”
Her breath hitched as she prepared for the scariest part of this speech. Using the moment of silence to her advantage, she leaned slightly forward and clasped a hand over her heart once more. “This battle may be the beginning of great change, but small changes are still necessary. For this reason, I will approach this request in a unique way.” She sucked in one last breath. “I will give you, my soldiers, a chance to vote on the plan. If you fear the risk of battle is too great, stand with both arms at your side. If you are willing to fight despite the danger, put one fist into the air.”
Not a single sound responded to her instruction. Nothing but the wind slicing through empty tree branches filled the air. Before her, several soldiers glanced among themselves, their arms hanging tentatively at their sides.
Ice seemed to close in on her ankles, around her wrists. The cold slithered under her skin, crawling up into her neck until crying seemed like the only feasible option.
But then a fist shot into the air. Talise had instructed her friends to keep their hands down until someone else voted for the plan. She didn’t want her friends’ votes to pressure the other soldiers into agreeing when they still felt uncertain.
The raised fist belonged to a quiet soldier, one whose name she couldn’t even remember. But the soldier’s eyes were bright, and her face was set in a determined gaze. Next to that soldier, another rose his fist into the air.
From a different part of the ranks, the soldier she had spoken to that morning raised his fist high. Another fist rose and then another. Soon, every single soldier in front of her stood with a fist in the air. They looked at her with more loyalty than she could possibly imagine.
Tears prickled in her eyes, but they no longer held any fear. In this moment, she had shared a greater amount of trust with her soldiers. And they returned it just as strongly. Raising her own fist into the air, she shouted, “Together we will bring the change this empire needs.”
Everyone cheered, which sent her heart soaring.
* * * * *
TALISE LEANED OVER a crisp sheet of parchment. With the emperor, presentation mattered as much as action, so she made sure to find the best paper available for his message. Her handwriting was neater than ever too. After years of writing academy essays and daily letters to Marmie, that was at least one thing she didn’t have to worry about too much.
But even after choosing the perfect parchment and using the neatest handwriting, the message itself still mattered. She had to ask the emperor for help. And he might not agree.
So far, she explained how she planned to take her army to Kessoku’s main base and fight until they had seized control of it. The emperor didn’t need to know about rescuing the prisoners. But she did ask him to send his army to aid her.
It had been terrifying enough to simply pen those words. Still, the final paragraph gripped her with the most anxiety. It caused her breathing to turn heavy, as if she’d just run a great distance. It didn’t help that her friends kept peeking into the tent to see if she had finished yet.
After reading through the final paragraph once more, she added once more sentence that would hopefully bring it all together.
Once Kessoku’s main base is secured, half of your army can stay to maintain it while the other half can return to the palace with any Kessoku prisoners. I formally request that I be allowed to stay in the Gate with my soldiers until next spring. We have done much good for the people. After this final battle, their loyalty will be more important than ever. We will need you to send provisions from the palace to get us through the winter including food, blankets, clothing, and money. While in the Gate, we will repair any fallout this war may have caused and bring loyalty back to the throne again.
Even reading the words caused shudders down her spine. Would he agree? Probably not, but she had to start the negotiations somewhere.
It started to hit her then. What if this battle really ended the war? She’d started with the intention of only rescuing the prisoners. But if the emperor sent an army to help, this battle could be it. He might ask her army to fight in a few smaller battles to end Kessoku for good, but those wouldn’t be as big. This would be the battle that mattered.
As wonderful as that seemed, it only reminded her of how many problems would still exist in Kamdaria, even without Kessoku fighting against them.