Page 233 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

Taras’s father did not disappoint. He looked straight at Rowan once she was seated, asking his question in an even, respectful tone.

“Lady Rowan, what of your men?” He had always been a fair lord, but this was the first time he had shown his open support for her.

Then again, he was practical above all—a trait his eldest son had clearly gotten from him—and we needed all the help we could get to win this war.

Not everyone shared that viewpoint, of course. Before Rowan could even respond, Lord Sidorov cut in.

“We can’t honestly be thinking to let Unclanned fight—” he began, but my wife spoke out in a louder tone.

“They are not Unclanned any longer. They belong to me now.” Her tone was unyielding.

“However,” I said slowly, noting the way her shoulders went taut at the sound of my voice, “they will be offered the chance to rejoin society in exchange for their fighting for Bear.”

It was one of the many things I had considered the night before. Perhaps some of them had been removed for genuine dissension, but there were plenty who had not. Besides, though I didn’t plan to mirror Lochlann’s political structure, I had found the story of MacKinnon particularly interesting, a rebel with a seat on the council.

More than all of those things, though, I also erred on the side of practicality, and having bands of unfed women and children was not only shameful, it was a guarantee of crime. If we hadn’t insisted on outcasting members of our own society, perhaps they wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take Ava’s coin.

And Dmitriy wouldn’t have died.

Then there was the matter of honor and the fact that we were all standing because the Unclanned had consented to fight for us, whatever their motivations. I looked at my wife, happy to be able to agree with her on at least this one thing.

“I think they’ve more than earned it,” I told her, repeating the words she had hurled in my general direction the day she arrived.

Her lips twitched, though she didn’t quite smile. “I quite agree. You were saying, "Lord Lehtinan?”

“Will they continue to fight with us?” he asked.

It was a question I had been curious about as well, though I suspected the answer hinged entirely on her.

She gave a sharp dip of her chin. “Yes. They stay with me, and I don’t plan on going anywhere until this war is won.”

I turned my head toward her, examining her features for signs of a lie. But only sincerity shone from her gaze, tinged with enough sadness to give me pause. A few of the lords chuckled, but the sound was muted by the heartbeat that was suddenly far too loud in my ears.

I wasn’t sure which part of that was worse. That she would leave after the war, or that she would stay until it was over, just long enough to keep herself a target of the opposing side.

Then what? In the event that we prevailed, she would take the second chance we had at our lives together and walk back to Lochlann with it?

“What will your men need?” Taras directed the question at Rowan, but his eyes cut over to me.

I straightened in my chair, taking more care to school my features—something I hadn’t had to be reminded to do in as long as I could remember. Pushing thoughts of the future from my mind, I forced myself to focus on this meeting. None of it would matter if we were defeated.

“Most of them are in need of new boots,” she said. “Weapons, obviously.”

I pictured rows and rows of corpses that were still in line for the pyre outside, our own men and enemies alike. Every soldier in Socair was supplied with good boots and a standard issue sword.

My cousin echoed my thoughts, his eyes going distant and dark as he no doubt saw the same thing. “There are plenty of spare weapons and boots to go around right now.”

Rowan pursed her lips, not missing his meaning. She nodded her understanding before pausing like something had dawned on her.

“Oh, and the use of the training yard this afternoon?”

Taras shot me a loaded look, full of hesitation I understood and shared. Though the estate should be grateful for theBesklanovvy—and some of them were—it didn’t take away a lifetime of learning to disdain and fear anyone with a brand. After the first day where the soldiers had been too tired and too stunned to react, the mistrust had become apparent by yesterday.

“Our men won’t train with them,” he told her plainly.

I braced myself for her ire. Sure enough, she blinked irritably, looking at me. Taras wasn’t entirely right. Technically speaking, our men would do what I ordered them to do, but it would come at a steep price when we needed their loyalty as much as their blind obedience.

Given that we were sending most of the soldiers away from the estate, it would be a small number affected here, reasonable enough to take the risk if the alternative was losing theBesklanovvy.