Children of Blood ✔️

Chapter Twenty Seven

The map flies from each end of the table as my fists clench. Warriors and strategists pack the small, wooden, windowless room from shoulder to shoulder. Luke and Alaric stand on either side of me arguing about the best plan of action. The noise seems to get louder and louder; I reach and hold my head, sighing.

Luke stops arguing and stares at me, "Jean? Are you okay?"

I shake my head and slam my hand down on the map flying to the other end of the table. "Everyone shut up!" I yell as people continue to talk over me. I close my eyes and take a breath before standing up on the table. My hands sit on my hips and I wait quietly like a teacher with kindergartens. Slowly the attention focuses to me and the room quiets to a whisper before ceasing. "That's better. Would someone like to tell me what we are arguing about?"

One brave warrior with a ragged scar drawn down his cheek breaks the silence, "Yeah! These strategists aren't helping, they don't know what it's like on the battlefield. It's easier said than done!"

"You don't think when you're on the field, you just go on a killing spree," a clean-shaven man shakes his head, his arms crossed.

Shouts erupt again and I sigh. My head falls into my hands as I try to cover my pain. My pain for my missing sister, my pain for my dead mother and Roxy.

"Hey!" Alaric booms. "If you don't shut the hell up, you will leave!" The crowd quiets as they stare at Alaric in shock. "Listen to Jean."

Abruptly they all turn to me, their eyes attentive and ooze submission.

"Thanks Alaric," I clear my throat and flip the map open. "I know we are in pain, but we leave to attack the Bellator Clan in four days. Let's use what we have to our advantage and communicate."

"We are communicating!" The scared man spits, "Are you deaf?"

Luke and Alaric snap their heads at him. Alaric chuckles darkly and Luke cracks his knuckles walking towards the man.

"Children stop!" I yell at Luke and Alaric. I turn to face the man and jump off the table, the crowd parts as I make my way to the man. I stop a foot away and squint, "I am not deaf, but I will be if every one keeps arguing like four-year-olds and don't start working together."

The man scrunches his nose in distaste and shakes his head quietly.

"I don't know if you knew this," I turn and hop back onto the table, "but communication is about talking and listening." I flip my eyes back up at the man and smile sinisterly, "So let's practice. Let's give suggestions and point out our assists and weaknesses. Does anyone want to go first?"

Silence follows like the grim reaper in a war, quiet and inevitable.

"Okay," I sigh to ease the tension strung high in the air, "I'll go first. Our greatest asset is Luke, he lives and breaths that land, so we know what territory we're getting ourselves into. Also, he has trained those soldiers and listened to his strategists, so it's a good chance we'll know the layout of their army and plans. A disadvantage is that only Luke knows the land well, so the environment won't suit us all."

Everyone nods and whispers lightly. "We have motivation," a young man calls from the back. "They came into our territory and killed our families yesterday. We've done nothing to them, so they have nothing to fight for besides Lady."

People talk and I hop down and readjust the map on the table. The men and women swarming the grid throwing suggestions and opinions. Some are discarded, and others are improved. They bicker and agree, finding a middle ground we've been failing to find all night.

I back away and take a breath of air. My headache finally easing. I head to the door, hoping to slip away for some rest until the scarred-faced man steps in front of me.