Knife of Rebellion: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 1

Chapter 28- Morning Jitters

Half my weight in steel hangs hidden underneath my clothes. I've got knives hidden around my ankles, my thighs, my back, even hanging from my belt. My spirit blades lay hidden up my sleeves, their handles pressed comfortingly to the inside of my wrists. My entire body is covered in a thick, black cloak. The cowl hangs low over my face to cover my unruly hair and tattoos.

Heartfire snorts impatiently, his breath misting in the cold morning air. Early this morning I came down to the stables and brushed him down, fed him, and cleaned his hooves. I figure if he's going to carry me to confront an army, he might as well be treated like a king. His massive head hangs over my shoulder, his neck pushing into my shoulder. I can feel his desire to escape his stall. I finished getting him saddled a few minutes ago, all save for my saddle bag which still hangs over my shoulder.

Behind me I hear the snicker of another horse accompanied by footsteps crunching on the dirt floor.

"I see we are the first to arrive." Monika observes.

I do not turn around when I answer, "Very astute of you, My Lady."

"No need to be unpleasant."

I give no response to that. Monika saddles her own mount and leads it past my stall. Still, I do not turn to look at her. Although I cannot stop her from coming, her presence on this endeavor makes me uneasy, which makes me resent her all the more. I detest feeling so unsettled. I would think I had become accustomed to it by now, but each new worry only makes all the others more intense.

I don't know how long I stood there, straining against my own dark thoughts, but it was long enough for several stalls around me to wake up as the rest of my party readies for our departure.

We all meet out front, huddled next to the warm bodies of our horses. Although it is cold, at least behind the walls we are sheltered from the howling wind that whips through the gorge. Once we leave the shelter of this rock, we are left to the gale, which will try its hardest to whittle us away to nothing.

Distracted by the cold as I am, it takes me a moment to pick out Monika from the crowd of men. Gone are her sweet, flowered dresses that accentuate her figure. Gone is the flowing long hair. Gone is the kohl that somehow perpetually darkens her lashes. In their place is an imposing woman dressed all in soft leather, a cloak of midnight draped around her broad shoulders. The long hair is pulled back into a painfully tight braid behind her head, and her face remains clear and imposing. For once she seems to fit her imposing hight, in face she almost blends in entirely with the seasoned warriors around me.

I tear my eyes away from the miraculous transformation and look over the rest of my riding party. Most look grim and determined, a few others look only cold. From their darker complexions and sun-kissed hair I can tell see men are from the southernmost reaches of Skevet.

I hope they have the ability to adapt, because we are all going to be very cold for weeks to come.

"Is everyone clear on the plan?" I demand.

I receive only nods, serious head bobs in synchronization.

A brief smile twitches at my lips despite the worry and cold conditions, "Then move out!"

Outside the gate is far worse than I had imagined.

At first, we all started atop our horses, proud and tall. We made a regal picture, most of us dressed in black, cloaks whipping in the wind. The weather had other plans.

The frigid air is so strong it nearly toppled me from my horse. I saw other men of the lighter persuasion having the same problem. I quickly jumped down and used Heartfire as a wall against my invisible assailant. Others followed suit, until we were all walking pressed against our mounts, hoping physical activity and the animals' warmth would keep us from freezing to death.