Commandeering the squadron was the easy part. Keeping their loyalty was something else entirely. The vast terrain and the mighty river that separated the Scar from the Veil was uncomfortable, treacherous, and long. Not to mention that fighting at the Veil did not seem to be on any of the soldiers' to-do list. Not that I expected it would be. The Second Order, as I came to learn, patrolled the cities. Catching thieves and apprehending suspects was a far different calling than active warfare.
Meir also did not help matters. He was a special kind of incorrigible, the kind that made me wonder if it was Meir, not Tolly, who was the youngest Netherfield son. Maybe years of being an advisor to the Emperor had made him soft and childlike. No doubt that he had a retinue of dutiful servants who saw to his every whim when he was at the Greater Grand. Tolly, however, was an expert at putting an end to his brother's fits. Of which there were many.
Upon reaching the Seamless, I nearly dismissed the men from my service. But, after corralling them onto the warship, some sobbing, all tearful, the spiteful part of me took some pleasure at their horror and sorrow. The indolent life of wearing the shining armor of knights without the fear and terror of blood and death did not comport in my head. If I, a girl with little combat training, had to endure, so could these grown men who wielded their swords like toys.
When we arrived at camp, we were met with stares. Awe. Confusion. Surprise. Worry. No one knew what to make of us. Quite frankly, I wouldn't have known what to make of an unexpected squadron of fifty Imperial soldiers, riding into camp, as if their presence had been requested. I especially wouldn't know what to think of the girl, a trainee medic, and the lieutenant who led the men side by side.
A susurrus of voices came at us from all directions. I wondered what they had been told. What lie had been dressed in truth's clothing about their fearless lieutenant and the girl who had stupidly entered the fray of war to watch him die?
I rode the Lord High Commander's warhorse through the street, pretending not to hear the stray whispers, staring straight ahead. Staring straight at him.
No one knew what to make of us except the Lord High Commander, who stood with a perceptive look on his face. His gaze was locked on me, and I swore I caught a trace of a smile. It would have been imperceptible to most, but on his usually stoic face, it seemed the most obvious thing in the world.
When his attention drifted to Tolly, however, the smile faded, and his brows pulled together.
Right then, I wondered if he had expected me to feed Tolly to Ammit. It must have been a possibility, surely. Yet, as the Lord High Commander studied Tolly, he did not seem particularly shocked to find him alive. Maybe the human sacrifice passed the test on occasion.
"You brought reinforcements," the Lord High Commander greeted, closing the distance.
Without hesitation, he was at my side, helping me from the horse, and, out of habit, I reached down to brace my weight against him. "More like commandeered an Imperial squadron," I said under my breath.
"Meir Netherfield," the Lord High Commander called past me, acknowledging the noble. "Congratulations on your promotion."
Meir solemnly kicked off his stirrups and slid down from his horse. Only when he was about to pass the Lord High Commander and me did he stop. Disgust wrote its way across his face. His eyes darkened, his lips thinned into a grim line, and his jaw hardened.
"She's a monster, Sirius," he muttered under his breath. "A monster." He then continued on his way to the quarters that the Imperial advisors usually kept.
The Lord High Commander and I traded amused glances. Then, he turned to Tolly, who was in the process of unpacking his palfry. "Take care of the new recruits, Bartholomew."
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Deathless (Editing)
Teen FictionRiverly trains as an apprentice healer. Every day, she works tirelessly to mend the broken and bloodied Imperial soldiers who protect the Empire from the vicious forces of a radical cleric. And, every day, the war chews up and spits out the lives o...