The Search for Terror (ONC 2021)

Chapter 7

      "Queen Amaia," Saqat bowed, and Amaia didn't bother to dispute the title—she would accept it while she led this fight. She would require every bit of power she could summon, and titles held a great deal. "We followed your plan into Haglaiya, and everything went smoothly, as expected, though there were no true signs of terror there. We spoke with their king and he has agreed to tighten his law enforcement to ensure all are safe and well."

      "I cannot trust the word of a man I don't know," Amaia said solidly, surprising Saqat into raising his eyebrows. It was quite possibly the first true expression she'd ever witnessed on his face. Amaia had always been a soft ruler, trusting others on their word, but there would be no more of that. 

      The warrior relaxed, his face moulding into careful neutrality. "He seemed a very genuine man, Queen, and I believe him to be telling the truth."

      "And when your beliefs matter, I shall consider that," she said harshly. Serious, yes, but no one would have ever called her cruel. A lot of things had changed over the last few days. "Obviously, there is only one way to ensure no terror comes from foreign places, and that is to attain control of them all. If I have power over each country, I can bring them together and trust in their leaders, for it shall be me, whose mind I know completely."

      Clearly unsettled, Warrior Ayad spoke, "You may not wish for my opinion, but this country is not only yours, and those others are not at all. Keep hold of what you have and keep it close, do not spread yourself so thin." 

      "You do not think of my plan as smart, and that is only a reflection of your incapacity to lead as I do," Amaia insisted, listening to not a word of Saqat's advice where she previously would have considered it all. 

      "What would you have us do?" he asked, voice quieter than it should have been. 

      Amaia did not answer, but instead walked across the room and pushed against the wall, allowing another's eyes to take note of her secret room for the first time. She led her warrior inside, flicking on the main light for his sake—she had long since become accustomed to the near dark of the dim corner lamp. 

      "This is a takeover," Saqat muttered, eyes tracking the movements across the map as hers had done. "A perfect plan," he admitted, and Amaia beamed at the praise, "But it relies on all the people obeying the curfew."

      "If the king is as good as you say, then that shouldn't be a problem," Amaia said, backing her most loyal guard into a corner.

      He nodded in submission. "When?"

      "Tomorrow."

      "No."

      Amaia turned to face him, her hair flicking out with the speed of her movement, "No?"

      Saqat's face was unmoving, hard, "My men have only now returned from your last plan, and while no one took damage, they are much too tired and worn to return to the field immediately, especially for a plan that requires such silent steps and will likely end in bloodshed."

      "With all due respect, warrior," Amaia said, her heart tensing briefly at the look of hurt on his face. She had always referred to him by his name or not at all. Perhaps, earlier, she would have apologised, but she'd left as much of her emotion as she could behind with Issar and Rumpelgeist. "As is often the case with destinies, I can feel it inside that this was always going to be my next step. And if that's the case, then it must only lead to the end of this terror that has taunted me all my life." Tonight, she would sleep in the throne room, and when the sun rose, she would march her men out the castle gates. 

      "You are only twenty-three, Amaia," he said softly, all armour stripped and weapons down. She'd torn at him with her words and clearly worried him with their meaning. "You needn't rush into a battle when the opponent still hasn't been seen."

      Turning her face back to the whiteboard, she channelled all her energy into keeping a straight face and flat voice, "But I have seen it. I was there, in Haglaiya, today. I saw in their faces a misery that is larger than any one terrorist or rebel. This is the only way." She may not have seen it, but she knew he'd be painted in the colours of confusion and betrayal. 

      She could feel him straighten beside her. "If this is what the fates chose, then so be it. Let's have this over with before we have no strength left between us." 

      Had she really drained his men that greatly? 

      "Good, alert your men. They are to rise with the sun which should give plenty of time to sleep-"

      "Seven hours."

      "Plenty of time to sleep," Amaia continued, "And tend their aches and pains from today. Gather the other units, also. You'll need everyone for this."

      "Yes, Queen," and this time she could hear the implied backtalk in the tone of his voice as it moulded around her title. Just as she had used his. "As you wish." His feet clopped loudly on the stone floor—all warriors had heavy boots; the only footwear actually made in her country. His leaving swept a nervous stiffness through her, until at last she heard the throne room door close, and her breath returned. 

      Tomorrow. The end would start tomorrow. 

      She couldn't wait.