The Balance (First Draft | Discontinued)

Chapter 7 (Morana)

Morana was sitting in her chair in the council room, eyes on the commander. He had called them all here and was now standing at the back of the room, to the left of the maps. His brows were furrowed and his eyes swept over all of them, as if he were searching for something. Whatever it was he was looking for, the sharp look of displeasure on his face indicated that he did not find it.

They had been sitting there for at least five minutes before Rolan said, "Sir, is there a particular reason why you called us?"

The commander's eyes settled on him, and Morana was impressed by the fact that Rolan didn't do so much as blink. "Yes," he said finally, and the way he said it made her heart seize up. Was it another death? Kazimir and Raisa were away right now; both were experienced soldiers, but was it possible...?

"Bjerstad," he said. "Lord Alvssen departs suddenly, with no explanation. Utdal. A small town that was far too prepared for an attack of that scale. Lenmoen. A group of soldiers just waiting there for our troops, despite no reports from scouts.

"And then there's the matter of Aleksander. He has never taken the field against us before, and the one time he does, he happens to encounter one of us? There were closer cities, more endangered cities, but he chose Brevfjord." The commander crossed his arms. "Forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical."

Andel frowned, leaning back against the wall. "What exactly are you saying?"

"We have a traitor."

The word hit Morana like a blow from the butt of a rifle, a sharp crack to her chest. Traitor. All of them were looking around, no doubt asking themselves if the person next to them was the one. If the person they'd known for years was lying, ready to stab them in the back. Morana couldn't help but glance over at Zlatka, wondering...

"...doesn't change the fact that Aleksander is a threat that must be dealt with," the commander was saying. "It only makes my method of dealing with him more... complicated."

He stepped over to the maps and placed his finger on a blue pin. It was rare to see a blue pin on the map; in fact, they were only consistently seen on Avmakt. An important target was in the city that the commander was pointing to, and it wasn't hard to guess who. Morana leaned forward eagerly.

"Feirvangen," he said. "Reportedly, Aleksander is there. Killing one man will not win this war, but regardless, I want him dead."

Zlatka stepped forward. "I can lead a group of us against him—"

"No."

Morana was glad that he'd dismissed her, but what he said next was not something she wanted to hear.

"I will only send out one of you," the commander, turning back to the maps. "If one of you is a traitor as I expect... I will not take the risk of losing more of you than I have to. No, one will go and the rest of you will stay here under watch as a precaution."

Morana stood up. "Send me," she said. "I'll bring you his head if you want."

A second later, Ivo said, "No, I'll go."

She stared at him. He was smaller than her, slower... Aleksander would tear him to pieces. Was he trying to spare her? She was about to protest, but the commander beat her to it.

"You aren't strong enough for this, Zeman," he said. Then he looked around the room, flat gaze moving from person to person before settling on her. She wondered what he was thinking, but finally he nodded. "Laniková."