Heemlik passed his eyes one more time over the group of refugees standing outside the walled town with the slowly lowering drawbridge, and sighed. The situation was not ideal, but that was his specialty. He hadn't delivered them to Saangra in time, nor would he ever. They would have to make do with their injuries and sicknesses here, in a remote part of northern Adalaant which tolerated their presence and did not report them to the crown for a sum Heemlik paid the precinct lord every time he needed their services. The lord was a cruel but economical man, and recognized the value of laborers from anywhere. The ones from the Gaar were often worn and weak, but they knew how to work hard and they didn’t dare complain. By now, the precinct was nearly half made up of former Gaar-folk. Heemlik worried the hateful factions in the area would force action from their lord soon. The fact that most of the convoy had injuries best left to Saangra wouldn’t help.

  Heemlik had traveled enough to be near immune to the exhaustion of escort. Even so, he was grateful it was caskerwol, and the sun would soon set without its husband taking its place. There would be a cool night on these windswept plains.

  The refugees milled about uncertainly, waiting for Heemlik's men to go. A majority were men, though as usual there was no small female population. There were more children in this exodus than either of the previous two Heemlik had undertaken. There would be more in the next.

  Heemlik approached one of the adults, the one he had put in charge of the anti-cavalry line at Timoor’s outpost.

  "Vaanin."

  Vaanin, one of the older refugees, turned to him, holding his small bag of possessions as close as any of them. "Yes, m'lord?"

  Heemlik gave up trying not to fix the man with the stare his father had burned into him. The conversation warranted it. It would not be the first time Vaanin or anyone else here faced it, but that was how instructions to peasantry had to be.

  "I have delivered you from the wrath of our gods. I know not what crime you or your sister committed to be sent to the Gaar, but the suns do. No matter where you go, they will look down upon you. Live without darkness. Be the instrument to these people that you were to me, and you will stand blameless before the suns one day. Don't waste this second chance."

  Vaanin nodded furiously, his filthy beard rattling like a bush. "Yes, m'lord. Of course, m'lord. Wherever we go, I'll do better than I did before the Gaar. Thank you for everything you have done."

  Heemlik nodded once and turned to go. That was the warmest farewell he possessed, and Vaanin knew it. Every refugee did, by the time Heemlik was done saving them.

  ***

  Kaanel rolled his eyes. "I still don't understand why everyone thinks I'm the grouchy one when we're always together, and they have you right there to compare.”

  Heemlik stretched his calves and grunted with satisfaction. "It's a matter of professionalism, Nel."

  "You're professionally grouchy and I'm not?"

  "Couldn't have said it better."

  Kaanel shook his head, bemused. "I love you."

  Heemlik gave him a smile. "I love you too."

  "The Fade still hasn't started following us again," Kaanel said, pointing to the distant wall in the east. It jutted out awkwardly now, into the steppes just south of the Herepo desert, where it had separated them from Jadpers and Euffie. It had stretched itself all the way to the nearest water source, forcing Heemlik to either take far too long to reach Saangra, or just deposit his refugees in the northern province.

  The two men stood on a small crest overlooking the east. Small Adalaantian towns dotted the land, growing denser the closer to Claazent they got. Kaanel wasn't wearing his helmet. Heemlik watched as the wind blew the man's dark hair past his head.

  "Good," Heemlik said. "I think it's time we return to the Gaar. Jadpers will find us there."

  Kaanel lowered his spyglass and turned to Heemlik. "Do you think she'll bring that Euffie girl back with her?"

  Heemlik shook his head. "I highly doubt it."

  "We spoke with her more than most of the refugees."

  "Precisely."

  Kaanel sighed. "Heemlik, before we return to the Gaar, we need to have a tactical discussion."

  "You do not like our current plan," Heemlik said, by way of skipping some well-tread ground. Before he could skip any more, Kaanel replied:

  "Yes, and you won't like my suggestions any more than you did last time. Shall we get on the horse and begin our journey back while we talk?"

  There was much Heemlik could say about Kaanel, but one thing he admired in particular was his efficiency. He never had to worry about Kaanel wasting his time. That was a valuable trait in the life of a commander, whose time was others' to waste if he wasn’t careful.

  Heemlik turned skyward and saw Sun-Beak still circling above. They had not been followed. Abadir knew there was no need; Heemlik always returned, sooner or later.

  "Mount up," he said. Heemlik raised his hand and put fingers to his lips for the move-out whistle that would recall his bird. Sun-Beak had earned a meal before they left.

  Fine bird. A shame Euffie never had a chance to hold him.

  ***

  There was little luxury in the life of the husband of a rebel leader, so Kaanel found comfort in the work and the travel. That was remarkably easy, since traveling involved sitting directly behind his husband with his arms around him, on a horse bouncing them both through the day and night. Kaanel’s thighs no longer ached after hours in the saddle. They could go much faster now without the refugees on foot to escort. Sun-Beak flew high overhead, circling now and again to avoid getting ahead of the main force of riders behind Heemlik’s horse.

  They did not need to travel stealthily outside of the Gaar. The Ladies of Claazent, the province the Gaar opened out into, took a very lasseiz-faire approach to Heemlik's little rebellion. They did not endorse either side. They stood to gain no matter who won. For some reason, the King tolerated this laxness. Perhaps they put on enough of a show, or were too inconvenient for him to punish. Kaanel had a sneaking suspicion they preferred a rebel victory, but he was aware this was likely wishful thinking. He treasured that kind of thinking, however; there was little of it to go around in this marriage.

  Part of Kaanel still yearned for a son. He hadn’t lacked parents growing up, but seeing Heemlik’s fathers filled him with a desire to do their job for someone else. To do it better. He wanted to raise a man the way he had been raised, and he wanted Heemlik to be part of that process. But a civil war was hardly the time to raise a boy.

  And I don’t even have a dog anymore to scratch that paternal itch. Bite’s death had hit Kaanel harder than he expected.

  "So," Heemlik began in his deep voice. Kaanel wished he wasn't wearing so much armor, so he could feel the words in Heemlik’s chest before they came out of him.

  "So," Kaanel said.

  "The Kuundel Lords are not to be relied upon," Heemlik said. "The marshals of vlii Eerind are business-minded, which means the same thing."

  "What of our allies?" Kaanel asked. "The ones you are confident in?"

  "The armed prisoners and the deserters are few and scattered. They are a useful distraction and irritant, and my father will never sway them back, but they are not enough."

  "What do we need, then?" Kaanel asked. "If you will not hear me out once more on those in power?"

  "I will hear you out. One more time."

  Kaanel took a deep breath, punctured only slightly by the horse beneath him, and continued. Not because he was afraid his husband would be angered, but because he was trying desperately to help and wasn't sure he'd get through in time. That worry made up a large portion of Kaanel's life. But Heemlik was more than worth it.

  He decided to open with a story Heemlik had heard many times. Religious people liked stories they'd already heard many times. They knew where they were in those stories. The trick was putting what you wanted in the story without them getting uncomfortable because they hadn't noticed it there before. It was very important not to make them uncomfortable.

  When Kaanel went to speak, however, a thought struck him.

  Maybe he should be uncomfortable.

  It was more accurate to say the thought re-surfaced, like an apple in a bucket. He couldn't get it out of his head ever since that Euffie girl said it. This was just the first time it appeared at just the right moment, and not late at night when Heemlik was already asleep and Kaanel was staring at the tent ceiling or the stars.

  In fact, forget the story, he thought. Forget this line of thinking. Let's go where I've only ever gone once before. And this time, let's stay there.

  "Heemlik," Kaanel said. "You know I love you, right?"

  Heemlik let out a tired sigh, steering the horse around a small incline. He waved for the other riders to follow him before answering:

  "What is it?"

  Kaanel took a deep breath, and let himself go. To his frustration, he still began with the previous angle, promising himself he'd get where he wanted to eventually:

  "Change takes many moving parts and unsuccessful predecessors. You remember what Jadpers taught me about where she comes from? How she tried to be the sole cause of change and it failed? She was going on her pilgrimage to win the allies she needed. You are not the only one in Adalaant who would see Gaar-Adalaant changed for the better. The Kuundel family of Claazent is tired of the over-policing of their lands. The businessmen want to hire those workers and buy the rich soil, rather than letting the crown and your father split it. And of course, a large number of Abadir's own men are deserting to join us. Not nearly enough of them to fight a real war, but enough to keep him off of us.

  "You do not have to do this on your own. You do not even have to do most of it."

  "The Suns decree otherwise," Heemlik replied. "Of him to whom much is given, much is required."

  Kaanel reminded himself that Heemlik was still listening. Now came the hard part. The stuff Kaanel had said in every way except directly, until now. He waited a moment until the horse got past a rockier piece of terrain and the noise of its hooves lessened.

  "Heemlik," he said, "you will lose the Gaar to Abadir if you don't do one of two things."

  "Which are?"

  "You can either cooperate with our potential allies, or you can fight Abadir, kaan-leevmit."

  He waited a moment for that to sink in. It was the most important part, and Heemlik benefited from being given time to think. Especially when he was leading a horse, a falcon, and a dozen or so other riders. Still, Kaanel knew the man was turning his words over and over with the speed and ruthlessness he'd been raised with. Kaan-leevmit especially. It was a Naruglid term that translated as “finished by blood” in Ecliptican Common. It was the name for a duel that continued until one fighter bled.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Our allies will not help when they are truly needed,” Heemlik said. “The Fade’s increased activity in the rest of the world since the start of our rebellion makes us look foolish. It vindicates my father and the king’s firmness on keeping the Gaar in place. The comfortable people, like the Kuundels and Ladies of Claazent, will never commit more to us than to the king. He may not take a personal involvement in shutting down our rebellion, since it is coming apart without him needing to lift a finger, but if the leaders of his most powerful cities did what I’m doing he’d eradicate them in a flash of sunlight.”

  Kaanel squeezed patiently.

  "Go on," Heemlik said. Kaanel breathed out. Progress. In the east, the Fade was growing closer. The awkward jut outwards where it had nearly swallowed Euffie and Jadpers only grew uglier the closer you got.

  "I think you need to continue speaking," Kaanel said. "What is your plan, Heemlik? How do you envision victory, like a commander is supposed to, without at least one of those two options?"

  "We keep evacuating workers until the Gaar collapses," Heemlik replied. He had mastered the art of sounding confident when he wasn't, but Kaanel saw right through it.

  "You know that won't work," Kaanel said flatly. "Even if we ignore the problem of the Fade swallowing all of the Gaar, potentially before we've gotten most of the workers out, and then encroaching on the rest of Adalaant. Your father simply overworks the ones that remain and has the inquisition heighten its crime quotas. The system is built to sustain itself against anything its victims can do about it, even leaving. You either need to stop making exceptions for your most dangerous enemy, or you need help from powerful people who are already at the top of the system."

  "But I thought you said change never comes from the top."

  "It doesn't. But it never comes from the bottom alone."

  Kaanel sighed, and tried one more time to concentrate his point:

  “You either need to start trusting the powerful people back home, or stop trusting the powerful person out here. You cannot have it both ways, my love.”

  Heemlik seemed to chew on that for a minute. To his own surprise, Kaanel realized he was getting angry.

  I'm trying to convince my husband to kill a man who nearly drained my blood and threw me into the maw of the Fade. A man who we both agree is ev-

  No, Kaanel remembered. We don't agree he's evil. Just like I was explaining to that witch girl. Heemlik still thinks there's something to be salvaged in that man.

  Kaanel nearly changed the subject then and there. It wouldn't have been hard. He nearly did it without thinking, like he had gotten so good at over the years with Heemlik. But he stopped himself this time.

  Maybe he should be uncomfortable.

  "Heemlik, my husband, my brave blade of the Suns," Kaanel said. "I need you to admit out loud that you know what you're doing isn't going to work. You know I won’t tell the soldiers."

  Heemlik said nothing for a few moments.

  "Fine," he said.

  Kaanel waited a moment, making Heemlik continue. That was one trick Kaanel gladly learned from Abadir.

  "I know what I'm doing isn't going to work. I intend to change tactics, and soon. I know I need a new objective. I know that I have to try at least one of the things you're suggesting, but that won't be enough and I'll need something more."

  "Like what?" Kaanel asked. “The soldiers expect you to defeat or reconcile with Abadir at the soonest opportunity. What will you do?”

  "I haven't built up the courage to tell you yet," Heemlik said simply.

  Kaanel gave him a squeeze, and they carried on in silence for some time. This was very good. Kaanel needed to be bold more often. It was a style he should've known Heemlik would respond to.

  Civilization was sparse and nonexistent on this route. If they encountered anyone here, it would be the Steppe Hounds they were after. Sun-Beak stayed high in the sky, but Heemlik would call him down soon once he was near Ochre territory, and he didn't want the bird giving away their position.

  "Heemlik," Kaanel said. "We need to talk about the promise you made to your father."

  "Which one?"

  "You know which one I'm talking about. The one the rank and file don’t know about."

  Heemlik's voice did a few spins on the grinder before replying: "The last one I haven't broken yet?"

  Kaanel flinched. "I don't think that's true."

  "It's the only one he still thinks I can keep," Heemlik said.

  "You don't care what he thinks anymore. Remember?"

  "I care what the Suns think."

  "But what about what we just agreed?" Kaanel pressed. "You admitted that our current approach won't work."

  "I see. So if I understand correctly, when you put those two options to me earlier, you have a strong preference for one of them."

  Kaanel ignored this detour. "Heemlik, are you going to try to convince your father to change again?"

  "Yes. One last time."

  "That's what you said every time before this."

  "Things have changed each time. That's not my fault. He just needs something better to protect Adalaant with than the Gaar. He cares about protecting Adalaant, and until we can help him do that, he will never listen."

  “Don’t you care about protecting Adalaant?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then Heemlik, why did you change? Why did you leave your post at the Gaar?"

  "You know why I changed. You and Jadpers did that to me. Why don't you do it to Abadir?"

  "Why don't you do it yourself?" Kaanel said it sharper than he should have.

  "I'm working on it!"

  "Okay, okay," Kaanel said, squeezing him again. "I'm sorry. Here, let's back up a step."

  "No," Heemlik shook his head firmly. "We're done. I will try one last time to get through to my father, and then we can revisit this topic. Understood?"

  Kaanel sighed. "Yes, commander."

  Heemlik only allowed a few seconds of silence before changing the subject.

  "The Fadewraith has changed recently," Heemlik remarked. "Did you get a good look at that woman who lunged at us?”

  "I did," Kaanel said. "Has the Fadewraith done that before in your lifetime?"

  "The Fade changes its servant once every few years, usually. The previous one, that Deledrim lady, lasted an unusually long time. I wonder if this one will keep longer."

  “Based on her condition, I highly doubt it,” Kaanel said. “Her guts were spilling out without any of us cutting her. Every time she moved, something in her snapped or tore. Could you tell if it was an Adalaantian woman? I didn't get as good of a look at it."

  "Since she was fresher, yes. Clearly she was once an Adalaantian. She had that same black mark across her neck as the previous wraith."

  "Hm. Do they all have that?"

  "Well, I've only seen those two. The ones before are said to have had marks like that in various places. One had it across her stomach."

  Kaanel was surprised at how little he knew about the Fadewraith, after serving in the Gaar for so long. To be fair, it didn't often make an appearance, and when it did, you usually made a disappearance. It didn't appear at Staving rituals. Kaanel knew the King had met with it, at least once in his life. Deledrim had been a reclusive, withdrawn Fadewraith, hardly even affecting the rest of the world. That had been part of why Heemlik and he had started this rebellion; with such a peaceful Fade, what sense was there in sacrificing so many people to keep it away from Adalaant?

  Kaanel knew about the deal king Foteeslm had struck with it, feeding it a steady supply of his people as long as it didn't encroach on his kingdom. Kaanel was part of that kingdom, no matter what Abadir thought about scriptomancers. He didn't want Adalaant to fall either.

  But even if the Fade bit and chewed at Adalaant’s borders like it did the rest of the world, Kaanel would oppose the Fade. What kind of mad king fed his people to a beast to protect them? What kind of mad king believed the beast when it promised it wasn't just saving him for last, once it had consumed the rest of the world? And if that was the price of saving a nation, was that nation even worth saving?

  "Is the Fadewraith always a girl?" Kaanel asked.

  "So far, the histories say there's only ever been one male, and that was long ago."

  Some more time passed in the silence of a group of riding horses.

  "Heemlik," Kaanel asked. "I know there's a lot on your mind, and I'm hoping this is already on it, but what are we planning to do about the Fade once we've removed the Gaar?"

  "That … is already on my mind," Heemlik said. "What did I say the last time Jadpers asked me that? I don't remember."

  "You told her it was already on your mind, and that was all."

  "What about the last time you asked me that question?"

  "The same answer, only you said it in a much more reassuring way. You added that you needed to learn something from your father before you could solve the problem, but you wouldn't say what."

  "Ah."

  Several minutes passed before Kaanel spoke.

  "Can you tell me what you need to know? I may know it, or Jadpers."

  "I can learn it from my father," Heemlik replied. "We have spoken civilly since my last Staving ritual."

  He knows he's your weakness, Kaanel thought. The longer he spends with you, the weaker you get. And without you, the Gaar doesn't change.

  Why am I keeping this in my head?

  So he said it out loud. Heemlik swung the reigns to maintain the horse's speed before answering:

  "That may be true, but I am also his greatest weakness. If I never speak to him, how will he change his mind?"

  "He won't," Kaanel said, "and no matter how much you talk to him, no matter what you tell him, he will not change his mind.”

  Heemlik stiffened as Kaanel drove them back here. He hadn’t said that so boldly in a long time.

  “You killed his husband,” Kaanel added. “Why would he listen to you after that?”

  “Killing Timoor will make him easier to convince, not harder,” Heemlik replied. “I know how he felt about the man. He’ll be grateful to be rid of him.”

  “Even so, you know your father will not change his mind.”

  "You can't know that.”

  "And you can't know the opposite, either," Kaanel said with a hint of heat. "What you can know is that he wants Jadpers and I dead, even after what you said last time you met him. He's not ignorant. He knows who Jadpers and I and everyone else we've rallied are. He knows we bleed when we're cut, we weep when we're sad, and we laugh when we're joyful. He knows those scripture passages I told you to show him, and still wants us dead. He knows what the King is doing better than anyone else, better even than you, and he still claims to serve the Suns. There he remains, massacring his fellow Adalaantians for the profit of himself and the crown.

  "You can know all of that about Abadir vlii Eerind, and you ought to use it to answer what you don't know. We can't know he won't change his mind, true, but we can certainly take a very educated guess. Is that not the whole of government? Of leadership? Of tactics? Of life itself?"

  Heemlik didn't say anything for a while. Kaanel waited anxiously. The horse beneath him had a steady gait, at least.

  "Heemlik," Kaanel said in a softer voice. "A few minutes ago, I asked you what made you change. I asked because I wanted to help you figure out how to make your father change too. Can you humor me, please?"

  "You're not usually this harsh," Heemlik said eventually. "I can tolerate it, of course; my father is much worse, and you are my husband. But when you've been this way before, I was already in a terrible place. I was vulnerable. Now, it feels as though you're trying to make me vulnerable yourself."

  "I – what?"

  "I'm not saying it feels as though you're trying to hurt me," Heemlik said quickly. "I'm saying it feels as though you misread my current state."

  "Please respond to what I said."

  "Fine. I changed because … because I thought there had to be a better way. You and Jadpers both convinced me of that. You showed me who a scriptomancer and a Prisnidine could be, and if they could be such righteous people, the Gaar had to be full of people who were better than to deserve going there. There had to be a better way."

  "Do you think that would work on Abadir?"

  They passed over a patch of softer sand, making a silty backdrop to Heemlik's thoughts.

  "I think it might," he said eventually. "I think Abadir knows what you said he knows. He knows he's hurting real people. He knows the scriptures better than the King, and he knows the King and the Fade better than anyone in the world."

  They were getting close, Kaanel could feel it. "So what do you know that he doesn't?"

  "Nothing," Heemlik said flatly. "I don't know a better solution than he does, remember? I still need a plan. He has one. I have nothing to offer him except a floundering rebellion with no end goal, no alternative to the problems the Fade and the Gaar already solve for us."

  "All right," Kaanel encouraged. "So, we need a way to fight the Fade that doesn't involve turning our people into wood in a misty sawmill. We don't have one."

  "No, we don't."

  "So what if you found one?" Kaanel asked. "What if you found one, and showed it to Abadir?"

  "What if I did?"

  "Then pay very, very close attention to his reaction, because it will finally tell us whether or not he can be persuaded. Whether or not there is a good person, deep down, the person you keep looking for. If Abadir accepts a better alternative, then you were right. Your father is a good man after all, who's just acting on bad information and doing the best he pragmatically can.

  "If, however," Kaanel added carefully, "Abadir is presented with a better alternative, and ... rejects it … then he really isn't motivated by doing what's right after all."

  "Then what is he motivated by? No, don't answer that," Heemlik added quickly.

  "I pray that you never have to. Because if you do, it'll mean your promise to him has to end."

  They said nothing for a time. Not too long, but enough for a few of the faster moons to visibly move in the stars above.

  "Thank you, Kaanel."

  Kaanel squeezed the cuirass of his husband and rested a head on his shoulder. "For what, sun-blade?"

  "For being harsh with me, but not being Abadir."

  Kaanel hummed warmly. "I love you, Heemlik."

  "I love you too, Nel."