Princeps’ Fury

She also noted that the Icemen rose in a circle around the Alerans. Araris was at her side in an instant, sword in hand, raised to a low guard. His eyes were focused into the middle distance, keeping track of all movement in his field of view with his peripheral vision, rather than watching any single foe. Aria, moving in the same instant, put her back to Araris’s, her own sword in hand.

The Icemen finished shaking themselves and turned to face Isana in a motion curious for its unison. One of them, a bit larger than the others, growled at Doroga. The Marat rumbled something in reply. The leader of the Icemen repeated his original growl, shaking his spear for emphasis.

“Hngh,” Doroga said, shaking his head. He turned to Isana, and said, “Big Shoulders says that you have drawn weapons. Your actions say that you did not come to speak of peace.”

Isana stared around at the Icemen for a moment. Then she licked her lips, and said, “I might say the same by the way they have arranged themselves all around us.”

Doroga snorted in dark amusement, and rumbled at the Icemen, evidently conveying her words.

Big Shoulders, apparently the leader of the group, narrowed his eyes to slits, staring at Doroga. Then he simply looked around the circle of Icemen.

Isana felt a sudden surge of emotion, a mixture of feelings so complex and tangled that she could not possibly have given it a name. There was no source to the feeling-just the sensation itself, as loud and as clear and as pure as the emotions of an infant suddenly finding itself hungry or uncomfortable. Had it been a physical sound, it would have left her ears ringing. Even so, the sensation was overwhelming. She shuddered and swayed in place.

The Icemen, meanwhile, moved as a group, careful to come no closer to the Alerans as they all gathered behind Big Shoulders, watching the Alerans from beneath heavy, shaggy brows. None of them spoke.

None of them spoke.

“Good,” Doroga said, nodding to Big Shoulders. He turned to Isana. “Your turn, Alerans. Put away your weapons.”

“Do it,” Isana said quietly.

“Isana-” Aria began, her eyes narrowed.

“That wasn’t a request, Your Grace,” Isana said in a quietly firm tone. “Weapons away, both of you.”

Isana fancied that she could hear Aria’s teeth grinding-but both she and Araris sheathed their swords.

“There,” Doroga said in satisfaction. “Now you are all acting like something more than honor-hungry whelps.” He gestured at Isana. “Tell him what you want.”

Isana lifted her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Alerans like to make this kind of thing complicated,” Doroga said, shaking his head. “Should see all the papers some scribe of Sextus’s kept sending me to mark on. Couldn’t read them, even when I learned to read. What is the point of your letters if you don’t use them to make yourself understood?”

Isana blinked at the Marat.

Doroga gestured impatiently. “Tell him what you want, Isana. It is not a complicated task.”

Isana turned to Big Shoulders. “We want peace,” she told the Iceman. “We wish our peoples to stop fighting one another.”

Doroga rumbled quietly. From Big Shoulders, Isana felt a surge of surprise, then confusion, then outrage. His heavy brows lowered even farther.

Doroga said something else, the thick-sounding words spilling out rapidly.

Big Shoulders pointed at the Shieldwall with his spear, speaking in a clear, anger-edged voice.

Doroga nodded and told Isana, “He wishes to know if your words will bind Fire Sword.”

Isana frowned at the Marat.

“The High Lord back there,” Doroga clarified.

“Yes,” Isana replied. “I speak with the voice of the First Lord himself. High Lord Antillus is obliged to honor my words as Sextus’s own.”

Doroga relayed her words to Big Shoulders, who grounded the butt of his spear upon hearing them, frowning at Isana. The Iceman stared at her for a silent minute.

On an impulse, Isana withdrew the control she normally used to restrain her emotions entirely. She turned toward Big Shoulders. Her words wouldn’t be important, she somehow knew. What was critical was the intention behind them.

“I know that much blood has been spilled. But we now face a threat that could prove deadly to both of our peoples. We wish to make peace, so that more of our folk will be able to fight this enemy. But this is also an opportunity to create a lasting peace between our peoples, the way we have begun to do with the Marat.”

Big Shoulders stared for another silent minute, as Doroga relayed her words. The Iceman glanced aside at Doroga when he was finished. They exchanged words several times, while Doroga nodded, his expression calm.

Big Shoulders grunted. There was another surge of that complex emotion, too fast and dense and thick for her to sort out, then as one the Icemen turned and shambled off into the snow. They entered the nearest copse of trees and vanished from sight.

Isana let out her breath slowly and realized that her hands were shaking-and not with the cold.

“And so,” Aria said. “They decline.”

“I’m not sure they do,” Isana replied. “Doroga?”