Soraya's armies had begun the march to Shiraz that morning. It took a not surprising amount of effort to mobilize and move tens of thousands of men. The barracks had to be packed up, supplies had to be organized, weapons had to be handed out.

Somehow though, they had moved out on schedule. Soraya highly suspected that this was mostly thanks to Parvana's leadership and skill as a general. Not for the first or last time, Soraya thanked the gods for sending that woman to her.

Soraya sat in a palanquin towards the front section of the soldiers. The palanquin was small but elaborate. Just big enough for her to sit comfortably cross legged, on the outside it was decorated with a beautifully ornate pattern of winding ivy and dragonflies, all gilded so that it glittered and shone in the sunlight.

Inside, she sat upon small circular cushions in bright red, all decorated with beautiful golden embroidery. Sheer silk curtains in a dark purple covered the large windows of the palanquin, but Soraya had them all drawn back so that she could see her surroundings.

Their route to Shiraz took them on the ancient spice paths that cut through the thick jungles, the only safe roads that did so. It wasn't a direct route, but it was the fastest. At this pace, they would reach the walls of Shiraz within three weeks. If they'd tried to cut through the jungle it almost certainly would have taken them more than a month, and there would have been plenty of casualties along the way.

Soldiers marched in orderly lines in front of and behind the palanquin, while higher ranking generals and military officers rode horses to the palanquin's sides.

Sitting astride two steeds to the palanquin's left were Massoud and Dashna, both dressed in their best military uniforms. They seemed to be deep in conversation about something, though they were just far enough that Soraya couldn't make it out.

Soraya smiled to herself as she saw Massoud laugh out loud at something and Dashna's annoyed but amused expression. Despite the way they'd glared and argued with each other when they'd first met, it seemed that they were getting along well now. That was good. Hopefully it would help to foster stronger relationships amongst the soldiers as well.

Parvana herself was farther to the back of the army, directing the troops there to make sure the pace was held and no one fell behind. Soraya had no doubt that she'd accomplish the job with ease.

Soraya looked out of the palanquin windows to the huge towering foliage of the jungle on either side of them. The trees reached so high that they soared bigger than even some palaces Soraya had seen, and the foliage was so thick that it was impossible to see deeper into the jungle itself. It was a complete wall of green, as if the jungle too had secrets to hide.

The spice paths through the jungle had existed for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. They were massive roads, large enough to field armies, and caravans of traders regularly passed through traveling from city to city.

Looking in wonder at the intimidating jungle, Soraya tried and failed to imagine how such a road had first been constructed. Who had first looked at the impenetrable jungle and dared to attempt to tame it? How many had died over the centuries for the sake of this one, winding road? Such questions always entertained her mind and kept her thinking.

Eventually, the sun sank behind the trees and the time to stop for the night came. The soldiers stopped marching and began to set up ramshackle camps. The four soldiers carrying Soraya's palanquin gently lowered it to the ground, and one came forward to help her down.

A group of soldiers had already set up a command tent nearby, a large dark red hut large enough for the important meetings and councils that needed to be held nightly. Soraya descended from the palanquin and entered the tent.

The inside was set up already as well. It was simple, but would serve its function. Beautiful patterned carpets covered the floor, and there were even a few tapestries hung on the walls. A low desk had been placed in the back, and divans and chairs were everywhere so that those present could sit.

Soraya walked forward and took her place behind the desk. Dashna and Massoud entered the tent soon after her, followed by a few other high ranking officers. They walked forward and bowed to her.

"Please sit," Soraya said, acknowledging them all. "We have much to discuss."

At that moment, a courier entered the tent, pushing back the flap and walking forward to bow before Soraya.

"Greetings, your highness," the man said. "General Parvana sends her apologies that she must be present in the rear troops to continue overseeing the plans. She sends you these reports of the progress." He presented her with two long scrolls.

"Thank you," Soraya told the man. He nodded and placed the scrolls on the desk, then bowed and made his way out of the tent.

Soraya unrolled one of the scrolls, her eyes roving across Parvana's short, neat handwriting. The report was lengthy, but Soraya understood the basic meaning.

"What does she say?" Massoud asked, taking a seat and lounging casually on one of the divans. The rest of the officers followed his example and took their seats about the room, Dashna seating herself beside Massoud.

"We're on track to reach Shiraz in time," Soraya said. "However, supplies have been going faster than they should. Parvana is disciplining some men and ensuring that strict rationing continues until we arrive."

Massoud hummed in consideration and nodded. Dashna frowned and leaned forward.

"Your highness, when we arrive the attack will begin immediately," she said. "What role do you have for my elite troops?"

By elite, Dashna meant gifted- those who had the fire of the gods in their veins now. Soraya understood her meaning clearly.

"I want them away from the fight until the walls come down," Soraya said. "Their numbers are significant but not great. I won't needlessly risk them in a full on assault. Have them ready, though, for the instant we break through. I want their main mission to be to enter the city and bring it to heel." Soraya clasped her hands under the desk. "When the soldiers on the inside see their powers, they should be shaken, and when the people see the gift they should be even more ready to fight on our side."

Dashna nodded her acknowledgement.

"I think it's a damn waste," Massoud commented, and Dashna shot him a glare. "You've got men and women who can shoot fire from their hands, burning anything before them, and yet you don't want to use them in your assault?"

"I understand your concern, Massoud, but again they're untested and newly trained. Once they pass this test, I fully intend to utilize them to their full potential in this war."

"We'll be ready, your highness," Dashna said confidently. "You can count on us."

Soraya smiled at her and nodded.

"Your highness," another general spoke up. This was Bijan, one of the higher ranking officers. He was a thin man was a short goatee and a shaved head. His expression was not happy. "What are we to do with Esfandar when we come across him in the city?"

"That's being a little optimistic don't you think?" Massoud said. "He's bound to escape the city before there's any real chance of that. He-"

"No," Soraya interrupted him. "No, Bijan is right. Esfandar is the sort of man who would stay until the bitter end."

Soraya clenched her jaw, her hands tightening into fists on her lap below the desk. She knew the answer that she was supposed to give: kill him and deliver her his head. It's what Roshani would do. It's what any rational ruler would do with a traitor. But this was Esfandar... this was her brother.

Memories rose to the surface of her mind unbidden. She remembered when she was younger, still a child, and she had stolen a book from a minister. She hadn't even had any idea what the book was about- she only knew that it was forbidden, and that made her want it.

She'd found a nook along the pillared corridor outside the palace and was contently reading her stolen treasure. She became absorbed in the words, transported into their world. So absorbed, that she only blinked in shock when someone plucked the book right out of her hands.

She looked up, squinting against the bright sun. Roshani. Her sister laughed at her startled face and began to flip through the pages. The girl was only a few years older than her, but she liked to think that made her more important. In a way it did, she supposed, but it only aggravated Soraya.

"What's this?" Roshani said, turning the book over to read the spine.

"Give it back!" Soraya stood up and tried to swipe the book, but Roshani only held it out of reach. Soraya fumed. Roshani was too much taller than her to grab it back.

Roshani's eyebrows pinched together in a frown as she read the book. "What's this?" Her accusing gaze rose to Soraya. "You aren't supposed to be reading this, Soraya- it's been banned by father. Where did you get this?"

Soraya paled. She hadn't known the book was banned. It was only a book! Now she'd never admit that she stole it. Roshani was a notorious tattletale and she didn't want to get into trouble with her mother.

"Give it back!" Soraya demanded again, jumping up to grab at it.

Roshani held it out of reach again and dashed away down the corridor, her bare feet padding against the white marble floor.

"Hey!" Soraya ran after her, growing angrier by the second. Roshani only laughed at her over her shoulder.

"I'm going to tell father," she sing-songed and Soraya's stomach dropped. "I'm going to-"

"You're going to tell father what?"

They both turned around as Esfandar approached from the pavilion, wearing an expression of confusion and curiosity. Perhaps there was a bit of exasperation there as well- Soraya and Roshani often got into these little fights, as sisters often did.

"Soraya's been reading a banned book," Roshani said defensively. She paused in her steps, turning toward Esfandar as he drew closer.

He held out his hand toward Roshani. She hesitated, but gave the book to him. Even back then, Roshani had looked up to him.

Esfandar took the book, glancing through the pages. Soraya shrunk, unsure whether or not he'd take Roshani's side.

After a minute, he closed the book, clasping it by the binding.

"You're right, Roshani," he'd said, making Soraya's stomach sink. "I'll discuss it with father later. He's busy meeting with the war council right now."

Roshani's expression darkened. Soraya knew that look. It was a look that sensed she was being manipulated, a look calculating how to get the upper hand again. On such a young girl, it may have looked harmless, but Soraya knew better than to underestimate her sister's wit.

Once, she had stolen one of Roshani's favorite dolls. When Roshani had found out, she didn't take the doll back, but rubbed poisoned moonflower leaves on it. Soraya had been in bed covered in red spots for a week.

This time, however, she seemed to want to avoid a fight.

"Make sure he knows I was the one who caught her," she said with a huff, turning and running back into the palace.

Esfandar watched her go for a moment before turning back to Soraya. If she could have folded in on herself and disappeared in shame, she would have at that moment. She never should have stolen the stupid book. It wasn't even very good!

Esfandar crouched down in front of her so that they were at eye level. He was less than three years older than Soraya , but the difference between nine and twelve might as well have been a decade for how vastly different they seemed.

He handed the book back to her. Soraya glanced from his face to the book and back with surprise.

"Don't let anyone catch you with it, alright?" he'd said. "Only disobey father if you're sure you'll never get caught."

Soraya took the book as if it was a precious treasure and nodded gravely to him. Esfandar smiled and ruffled her hair.

"Good. Now go back to your mother. She's been looking for you."

The memory seemed so clear, so real, even through all these years. She could still feel the cool summer breeze drifting through the palace, the tough leather binding of the book in her hands. She could remember it all.

The reality of the command tent filled with her generals and soldiers rushed back to her. Bijan had just given her the impossible proposition: what to do with Esfandar when he was captured.

"I want him taken alive if possible," Soraya said firmly. "He'll have vital information on troop movements in the area, and he'll be invaluable as a hostage."

"And if it's not possible?" Bijan prodded.

Soraya's expression darkened. "I don't think I have to spell it out for you," she said sharply. "If you can't take him alive, then bring me his head."