Chapter 26

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Spring, December 1231 A.D. (Three weeks before the Summer Solstice)

"You as big a fool as your father is," Shamarah said as she watched her son prepare for the march. She strolled back and forth, bouncing Kurahanadasa, her now fifteen-month-old granddaughter in her arms. The giggling little girl kept her eyes on Rowen, vying for his attention. The prince ignored his mother's outburst and called out across the courtyard to the king's head stable master.

"Make sure we the horses drink plenty of water!" he said. "It's nearly a day's march before we reach Lake Thescaro."

Shamarah stood in front of Rowen and cut off his path. The glow of lanterns in the courtyard mingled with the luminance of the spring dawn cast an eerie shadow over her soft skin.

"Mother, the march begins soon," he said. "There's still much work to be done."

"You are the living breathing heir to the throne of Rashnee," Shamarah said. "When a ruler departs from his kingdom, his heir must reign in his stead. Wherefore ye not remain hither and rule?"

"Gambian reminded me once that I am yet to be a king. A man must honor the word of his lord. Father commanded me to join him, and join him I must."

"Preposterous. Ye have defied Rashnee many times at thy pleasure. Now ye harken unto him?"

A grin spread across Rowen's face. "Alright. I journey not for the sake of the king. But I do love my sister. Months have passed since I've last seen her."

"Wait! Rakurih is going to Lagorah? And you're telling me this now?"

"I learned of it only this morning. Why do you think Tesyonah abideth hither? Rakurih marches with the Shirobethnians. They're garrisoned at Lake Thescaro. I need to make sure she doesn't get herself killed."

"Lies! Your father would never see her march with his army. And Eudarius goeth only as far as Thescaro to protest the war. Rowen think of your family."

The prince rolled his eyes. "Mother, dawn is upon us. I need to concentrate."

"Behold thy daughter's face," Shamarah said, almost pleading. She turned Kurahanadasa around to face him. The little princess formed spit bubbles on her lips and reached for him. "Each time she crawls into your arms, your eyes light up like the stars. Not one day passes that I don't find you in Kiherah's embrace. Will you sacrifice everything to please that wretched hairy, scruffy ghoul of a man?"

"Mother with respect, nine thousand other men are making the same sacrifice. You are largely responsible for that. When did you become such a hypocrite? Why turn ye from thy words? In one breath, you inspire nations to go to war against these savages, and now..." He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the horrified look on her face.

"Wait. Mother I..."

Shamarah, fighting tears turned and walked away. Rowen pursued her, knowing he had gone too far.

"Mother, wait! Please." He took her by her shoulders, and she held Kurahanadasa tight in her arms, her body heaving as she sobbed. "Forgive me, Mother. I should never say such things. I just-"

"No," the queen said, wiping her tears. "What thou sayest is just. By the gods," Shamarah whispered in distress. "I'm sending these men to their deaths."

"Mother that's not what I said."

"What you say is true. These men are going to die because of me."

"Impossible. We outnumber the Nordon savages by four-hundred thousand men."

Shamarah said nothing. She only gazed into her son's eyes with despair, the flicker of the lanterns' flame dancing in her eyes. Rowen held her gaze, and in an instant, his face turned ashen when he realized what she was implying. He let go and studied her.

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