Free Soulbreaker by Terry C. Simpson

Crystal Skies and bring about a war to unite the land. Every ten years they war with each other for the right to send through one of the chosen, a person whose soul they cannot see.
    “Our merchants and spies report a massing of troops in the west, which was to be expected when the time comes for the ritual. However, unlike before, this was not for a battle amongst themselves; they had united. The only other times they have done so were two instances against your people.”
    “But those were in response to us invading their lands,” Ainslen said. “First was Cortens’ obsession with the Pillars and annihilating the Dracodar to the last child, and then Hemene’s madness.”
    “At first we thought the reports relayed another one of their attempts at breaking the barrier formed by the Pillars,” Kulabi said, “or one of their many conflicts with our other neighbors, the Caradorii. That was before we discovered that the Caradorii, their life-long enemies, have also sided with them.”
    Voices steeped in concern spread among the nobility, the word Caradorii mentioned in hush tones. The majority of those present, particularly the counts, would recognize the name.
    The bronze-skinned, light-eyed Caradorii had been the bane of the Kasinian Empire many centuries past. They were the reason the Empire had failed to expand its borders to the west, and why ten old fortresses, the Swords of Humel, spanned the northwest stretches across Thelusia into Helegan, each manned by at least four squads of King’s Blades.
    Many of the Swords had grown into cities since, like Danalyn, Morash, or Cozar, from which adventurous merchants, or desperate ones, depending on whom one asked, led caravans to the west in hopes of procuring black ash wood or Calum plants. Returning alive with either was a different story. Caradorii raiders were common, but despite stories of slaughter the reward still drew men. A merchant was guaranteed to be set up for life if he managed to make it back with his goods.
    Ainslen stood. “Leave us,” he commanded above the rising voices. He gestured to the crowd. “Sabella, take three of yours and see them out. Make certain I’m not disturbed.”
    “Yes, sire.” Sabella struck fist to heart, and signaled for two other Blades to follow her.
    After the room was clear, Ainslen turned to the Voices. “Why now? What reason do they have to war with us?”
    Kulabi licked his lips, eyes flitting to Tyoti and back again. The smell of fear rose thick from the man, a scent Ainslen might have missed before he’d partook of Jemare’s soul and sat upon the throne. Now, the odor made him flick a thumb across his nose. Tyoti gave an almost imperceptible nod.
    “If he’s so important to your decisions, and can understand what I ask, why doesn’t he answer?” Ainslen kept his gaze locked on Tyoti, who returned the stare for a few moments before relenting.
    “None of the others have a tongue,” Kulabi said.
    Ainslen smirked. “And yet you’re called Voices.” He shook his head in disdain. “Tell me what it is you fear.”
    “Your reaction.”
    “Despite the stories, I’m not a monster. But if it will appease you … I swear no harm will come to you regardless of what you may say … as long as it’s not a personal insult.”
    “The western kingdoms united after an assassination attempt on the Berendali High King. They claimed you and the Order sent the assassins.”
    “Foolishness,” Ainslen said dismissively. “I ordered no such thing. This is some pitiful excuse by them to strike against us. “ His anger rose. “They must think us weak because of Succession Day and our battle against the Thelusians.” He didn’t mention the Marish rebels who’d banded together along the Blooded Daggers nor his own troubles with the remnants of Kasandar’s guilds and the uprisings by the dregs. Not to mention the added issue of King’s Blades who’d disappeared. At a guess, only half of those that survived Succession Day