Wizard of the Grove by Tanya Huff Page A

leaders. Strip them of their arms and have them taken back across the border.”
    â€œBut, Father, the pass is blocked.”
    â€œOh,” Raen looked momentarily confused. Had he known that? Memories of the last few days were soft edged and smoke-filled; he remembered pain clearly but not much else.
    â€œAnd they don’t want to go back.”
    â€œAre you sure.”
    â€œVery sure.” Rael shrugged wearily. “But I don’t know why.”
    â€œWell, I’ve a pretty good idea,” Raen snorted, suddenly more energetic as he came across something he thought he understood. “They lost. Melac and that idiot who advises him aren’t likely to be very welcoming.”
    â€œFather, about that counselor . . .”
    â€œAn ambitious upstart,” the king dismissed their unknown enemy with a choppy wave of his hand. “I’m not surprised someone like him showed up to grab power. Melac was always weak. We’ll keep the border guarded and have nothing more to do with either of them.”
    Rael was not convinced. From things he’d overheard in the last few hours, he suspected Melac’s counselor would remain a threat. But that was for the future to deal with; here and now he had other worries. “So what do we do with the prisoners?”
    â€œDivide them up and scatter them amongst the dukes.” The crease between the king’s eyes deepened as he remembered the mass graves that held the flower of Ardhan’s youth. “We’ll all be a little short-handed for a while. I’m sure they can find ways to put them to use. If they truly don’t want to go home, they can begin to work off the lives they owe us.”
    â€œAnd the battle commander and his officers?”
    The king sighed. “Well, they
can’t
go home. Melac can always get more spear-carriers and crow-fodder, but returning his officers would be asking to do this all over again. Have them take the standard oath about laying down arms and ever after cleaving to the soil of the land they invaded.”
    â€œThey won’t.” Rael sighed as well, and rubbed a grimy hand across the bridge of his nose. “They say they’ve taken blood oaths to fight for Melac and the Empire until death.”
    â€œEmpire!” Raen snarled and tried to sit up. “What Empire?”
    Rael pushed him gently back. “The one we were supposed to be the first part of. They’re fanatics, Father. When we took away their weapons they attacked with bare hands. We practically had to bury them in chains before they stopped. They fought like men possessed.” He paused and his eyes narrowed in memory. “Or men in mortal terror.”
    â€œThey’ll have to die.”
    â€œFather!”
    â€œHow many men did you kill last night?” Raen asked gently.
    â€œI told you, we torched the camp. It’s likely hundreds died.”
    Raen held his son’s eyes with his own. “No. How many did you kill? Yourself?”
    Rael yanked his gaze away and stared at the carpet. “I don’t know. Eighteen. Twenty maybe. I lost count.”
    â€œAnd Rutgar’s still dead.”
    The terror; the reaching hand; his name screamed.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIt didn’t bring him back, so the killing is over.”
    Rael lifted his head and green embers stirred. He’d fought last night blinded by anger and pain and with every life he sent to Lord Death the anger bled away until there was only the pain. “Yes,” he said. “There’s been enough.”
    â€œUnless those seven die, the war isn’t over and we’ve won nothing. Rutgar died for nothing. The men you killed last night died for nothing.” Raen lifted a hand and touched his son’s arm. “A king has no conscience, lad, he gives it to his people.”
    â€œThat’s garbage, Father, and you know it. The people do what you say.”
    Raen let his hand fall back