Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) by Emma Hamm (best e ink reader for manga .txt) 📕

haven’t attacked Wildewyn on their own soil in centuries. They know how to use their kingdom to their advantage.”

At least Solomon looked discomforted. Raheem had been convinced the man didn’t know the difference between battle tactics and throwing themselves off a cliff.

The false sultan tightened his grip on the reins in his hand. “I’ve trained my entire life as one of the Qatal. I know how to fight better than any man here, likely better than most. But this?” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to prepare for this.”

“There isn’t a way to prepare to fight on soil you’ve never stepped foot on before. We can only hope our men survive the first battle.”

“I didn’t give any of you enough credit,” once again, the sultan said the words. “These people… there’s something dark in the shadows. As if people are constantly listening to everything you do and are trying to twist the words in a way that suits them better.”

“Welcome to life in the palace.” Raheem clapped him on the shoulder and yanked his horse toward the first lift. “It won’t get any better. All you commoners think the royals are languishing in their beds of roses waiting for the next time they can make you angry. The truth is, they’ve got it just as bad. Only in other ways.”

He didn’t wait for the other man to reply. Truthfully, he didn’t care what the assassin had to say. There was too much happening now in his own home to care what the Alqatara thought. They were a band of assassins who had their heads buried so deep in the sand they wouldn’t see war coming for them if they tried.

And Raheem? He was the general of this army. He’d trained most of these men himself, and he intended to ensure as many of them lived as possible. If that meant taking arrows for them, then he would.

“Hold!” he shouted at one of the lifts. The men paused, eyeing him with equal parts awe and anger as he guided his own horse onto the rickety wood.

“General?” one of the soldiers asked. He was little more than a boy really. Just barely growing hair on his chin and with wide, frightened eyes. “Should you be coming with us?”

“I don’t believe in a first wave that’s only meant to feed the ground with blood. We’ll fight boys, but we’re going to do it the smart way.”

The reins in his hands creaked. The horse beneath him shuddered, knowing what was going to happen and afraid of what would come. Raheem had ridden this horse into many a battle. He knew it wouldn’t shy away at the last second. But he feared he might lose it either way.

He leaned down and patted a hand to the beast’s neck. “Easy,” he murmured. “Soon, my friend.”

The touch of war laid upon his shoulders as if an old friend had leaned down and grasped him. He knew what this felt like. The aching wait for the moment when the battle would begin. He saw it in the faces of the other men.

Some men felt the fear more than the anticipation. Those who hadn’t been in battle before would wonder what was going to happen to them. Would they die? Would they be wounded and forced to live a life where there was nothing for them left other than a bed and a cane?

Others, mostly those who had lived this before, knew what to expect. They understood the blood and the pain were only part of the thrill. War had a way of sinking into a man’s bones. Forced to find ways to keep themselves alive, they would do anything it took to see their families the next days. These were the soldiers he wanted with him.

The young man who had spoken to him stood at the very edge of the lift. His knee bounced as he held onto the rope and watched the ground approach.

“First time?” Raheem asked, his eyes still on the forests beyond.

“Aye, sir.”

“How old are you, boy?”

“Eighteen summers. I’ve been training my whole life though.”

Raheem didn’t care if he’d been training. A farmer could step onto a war zone and be just as prepared as the young man who didn’t know what the slaughter would be like. He almost pitied the boy, knowing there was only sadness here for him.

A rustling in the trees beyond wasn’t simply the wind. There were men there, he was certain of it. He could almost feel their eyes and the hardened tips of their arrows. This wouldn’t be an easy fight. In fact, he’d say it would be the most difficult battle the army had to face. There were only so many of them.

“Keep your eyes on the trees,” he muttered to the men. “That’s where they’re hiding, and that’s where the attack will come from.”

“How do we stop their arrows?” the boy next to him asked.

“You don’t. If you’re hit, take your sword and snap the end off. It’s something the others can grab onto and you don’t want that. Let the arrow stay inside you for the battle. We’ll take them out at the end.”

The boy gulped, and his face reflected a fear Raheem hadn’t felt in a very long time.

The lift hit the ground and the very first whistle of an arrow flew through the air. He watched it come, old soldier’s eyes knowing exactly where it was going. He was the only man on a horse. Of course they would know he was more important than the others.

Raheem didn’t flinch away from the pain. He let the arrow strike him in the shoulder.

Not a muscle on him reacted to the pain. Instead, he reached up, snapped the shaft as he’d told the others to do, and dropped the arrow onto the ground.

“Soldiers of Bymere!” he shouted, lifting his scimitar above his head. “Attack!”

24

Camilla

Her wings shook. Her vision had already skewed to the side a few hours ago, but she couldn’t stop