The Black Gods War

on his own. With you and Lucia beside him, we’ll have the power of four gods, Caio!”
    “Yes, I know. I only have to ask my goddess to kill for me. I’m sure The Compassionate One will want to do that.”
    “Put your trust in history. Haizzem win wars. You were born to do this.”
    Caio looked away and kept quiet for some time. “It doesn’t feel like it. Maybe I’m not like the other Haizzem.”
    “But how would you know? You’ve never had to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
    Caio continued walking, giving no answer.
    “I apologize, my Haizzem. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I beg your forgiveness.”
    “You could never offend me, Ilario. It’s only that … until this I’ve always enjoyed doing the things that were expected of me.”
    “Your father’s put a lot of faith in you. You cannot disappoint him.”
    They entered the grove and came upon a unit of ten soldiers resting. Ilario commanded them to rise. The men stood and bowed, muttering, “Havah ilz avah Haizzem.”
    Ilario waved his hands. “Clear out.”
    “Yes, sir.” They hurried away. One of them walked up to Caio and bowed his head to receive the Haizzem’s blessing before continuing on.
    Ilario and Caio sat against the trees, and Ilario threw Caio a waterskin. Ilario lifted his and filled his dry mouth with hot water. He took another sip and spat it back out. “We should’ve refilled at the river first.” Ilario said. He met Caio’s eyes.
    Caio’s voice was kind, as ever. “My friend, I know there’s something else weighing on you.”
    Ilario looked down and mashed his lips together. I hope you don’t—
    “You’re worried about someone you love,” Caio said.
    Please don’t.
    “You know,” Caio continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about Lucia. She’s certainly brave, supporting our army without my father’s help—or mine. What does she know about war?”
    “Lucia’s trained for this. She carries Ysa’s sword and shield. Her goddess will keep her safe until we arrive.”
    Caio looked at Ilario with understanding eyes. “Are you worried about her?”
    Gods! It’s so hard to hide anything from you.
    Caio continued, “Let’s continue to speak freely. Do you have feelings for her? You know you can tell me the truth. I wish you would before we reach the canyon.”
    The truth was that Ilario couldn’t wait to see her again. Ironically, the war could give him the chance to finally spend meaningful time with her. Lucia had spent most of the last nine years visiting the provinces, maintaining her father’s alliances. Every time she returned to Remaes, Ilario had been involved with other women. Now he was determined to tell her how he felt—even though he knew it wouldn’t make any difference in the end. She deserved someone better than him, someone with status, someone who could devote the time to her she deserved.
    “Ilario, I wouldn’t judge you. Believe me, I’d much rather see Lucia with you than with someone I barely know.”
    Impossible. “I can’t talk about this, my Haizzem.” She’s your sister.
    “Know that you would have my blessing.”
    It would be an insult to your father after all he’s done for me.
    “And my father loves you like a son,” Caio said.
    “Please. I can’t.”
    Caio nodded in defeat.
    Ilario wiped his brow with the hard muscles of his arms. Despite his marjoram and cardamom scented oils, he still reeked of sweat. “Shall we go back?”
    “Give me a little more time. I like it here. This reminds me of when we went to Gallikos.”
    With Lucia.
    Ilario heard voices approaching from the river and surged to his feet. He gripped the pommel of his sword at his hip as he searched through the trees. “It’s your father.”
    Caio put one hand on Ilario’s shoulder and leaned against him. “Just remember I wouldn’t judge you.”
    Ilario’s heart filled with relief and guilt at the same time.
    The king approached with two warpriests and two soldiers at his side. He wore a long, loose tunic, maroon with yellow stitching at his shoulders and down the center of his chest.
    Ilario knelt and bowed his head.
    “Ilario, I take it my son came here to rest?”
    “Yes, my King.”
    “Then I hope you don’t mind my presence. Soon we won’t have opportunities like this.”
    Caio clasped his father’s forearm, as his father clasped his. “Of course you’re welcome here, Father. I’m glad you’ve come.”
    “Please stand, Ilario.” The king motioned the