Shadow War: Book 3 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy (WIP Rough Draft)

53. The Beginning of Another

34th of Arrestre

Tea in hand, I found a seat near the window of the mess tent that overlooked the road through camp, settling in to watch the goings on as I waited for NaVarre.

I didn't have to wait long for something to happen, and it started out well enough.

Arramy came out of the medical tent and started up the road toward the barracks.

He was coming toward the mess tent, and a jolt of warmth unfurled in my middle, my heartbeat doing a little tattoo of anticipation. Maybe, if NaVarre was late, Arramy and I could talk, finally —

NaVarre appeared, then, stepping out of the shade beside the command tent, coming out to meet Arramy in the middle of the road. There was a brief exchange that looked polite enough, but then NaVarre said something more, his expression intense as he continued talking.

At first Arramy frowned. Shook his head in response to whatever NaVarre was saying.

NaVarre moved with Arramy as though determined to cut him off, maintaining eye contact and staying nose to nose when Arramy shifted to the side and tried to step around him.

Clearly frustrated, Arramy faced off with NaVarre. Then something NaVarre said made him go still for several seconds. Frozen. Listening. After a moment Arramy's jaw tensed and he looked away. He remained like that as NaVarre kept talking, earnestly now. Pleading.

I squinted and sat forward, something about the whole exchange making my stomach sink as I watched Arramy nod reluctantly, lift a hand to the back of his neck and turn away from NaVarre – away from me. He didn't know I was there, didn't know I could see as he bowed his head and started moving. One step. Two. Then he was striding off in the direction of his tent.

NaVarre watched him go for a moment, then turned and came crutching toward the mess tent.

I raised an eyebrow as he pushed through the door and looked around, searching until he found me.

He lifted his head in greeting and hobbled down the main aisle between the long tables, slowing when he reached the seat across from me.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Oh, you saw that?" NaVarre asked, the tiniest hint of foreboding glimmering in his eyes before he shook his head, his smile flashing. "Nothing important. What's lunch today?"

I flicked a dubious glance over his face. "Soup. Bread. It didn't look like nothing. What's going on?"

With a shrug, NaVarre wheeled around and got himself a tray at the rack near the food counter, then helped himself to some of the vegetable stew in the heated tureen and a roll from the breadbasket.

I waited until he was sitting in front of me. Then I leaned over the table. "What happened?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said again, glancing out the window as if looking for something.

"Liar," I snapped.

He jerked back around to face me if I had just slapped him. "I'm not lying, I only... I wanted to talk to you alone. We have so much to discuss about the trip, and I —"

"What did Arramy say?"

He blinked. "When?"

I was about ready to reach across and give him a clobber upside the head. "Just now," I said, giving him a flat glare. "When you were talking to him. Why are you acting so strange?"

NaVarre smiled. "Who said it's an act— "

"Lexan."

He shrugged again, flippant, but I knew him too well not to hear the note of trepidation in his voice even though he kept his words indifferent. "Arramy said he's moving on."