Havoc's Daughters

Chapter 5 - Night 1: Lania (part I) - Betrayal

“I’d like to request an audience with King Imrys, please.” 

Lania Pereger D'Setigera gazed at the perimeter guard, making careful adjustments in her stance to keep from pitching over. Three days.Three days of almost constant movement, of keeping nearly four score refugees safe and scrounging edibles from the turf of the dry plain, of little water and less sleep. Heart-sore and foot-sore she might be, but she hadn’t lost anyone since the attack. 

Now Imrys was just a short walk away. The Cervides emblem, a gold stag on a field of hunter green, flew above the rising sea of tents near the center of the Roenish army camp. 

Despite her exhaustion, she felt the lift of anticipation. It would be good to see Imrys. His officers would see to the care of her charges, and she might even be praised for her success. Not that approval needed, but it was her first true life-or-death responsibility and it would be nice to have her efforts acknowledged.

“And, who might you be to make such a request, boy?” the bigger of the two guards sneered down at her.

“I--” 

Lania stopped, closing her mouth, suddenly empty. She looked between the faces of the two guards, one enjoying his small piece of power and the other disinterested, then looked down at herself. Her tunic was a peasant boy’s linen homespun. It and the baggy leggings tucked into her boots were ingrained with three days’ ground-in dirt and stale sweat, not to mention dark splotches of other people’s blood. She’d cut off her long hair in handfuls, and tied what remained in a short queue which was coming undone. Judging from the tan caked on her normally pale arms, and the itchy feel of her face, she doubted her hair was any longer the rich black she shared with her da and Uncle Faelian. In this condition, Imrys himself might take a moment to recognize her. These guards were regular army, and certainly wouldn’t.

That was the point of the masquerade. If no one knew who she was, that she was a girl, much less the king’s betrothed, it would her honor being called into question. 

Unfortunately, it was also keeping her from safety, and from the help her people needed. She could give them her name, and the family crest hanging on a cord secreted inside the neck of her tunic. But the consequences, should she appear publicly in her current state and proclaim her identity…. 

Her people were in need. Her mouth opened to make the fatal choice.

“We’re refugees from Rose Hill town,” Owin Chandler interrupted from Lania’s right. “We have word of Roenish Mirze-side for his Highness.”

“That you’re here is word enough,” the guard snapped. “On your way, now. You’ll not be permitted inside the perimeter.”

A handful of wenches, their chemises baring more of their upper bodies than they concealed, walked past the leering guards without any challenge. A buxom blonde at the tail end of their procession smiled an invitation to Lania as she passed, parting lips a deeper red than Alzarin crimson. 

Lania was too tired to blush, or even to care. 

“We need food.” Lania blinked at the guard twice, slowly. You will help us, she thought to him, because you are a good and honorable man. 

It wasn’t wrong to use her gifts if it were for a good purpose. But this last obstacle, coming after three days of hardship and grief, had shaken her confidence. She simply didn’t believe. 

“Pretty boy,” called a nearby soldier who was just settling to eat. “You can have all my dinner if you’ve something to trade for it.” The man’s eyes were narrowed speculatively, his mouth curved in the same sneer as a cat after a caterwauling queen.