Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

3.6 Gwinael

Her mother, ever the professional, returned her daughter's salute, but Gwinael noted the repression of a smile on her face. Gwinael did the same. She was not the only one in the tent- the purpose of the summons seemed to be that all commanding officers could be given a summary of the current situation. Commander Snowberry addresses the group in her tent got straight to business. "You might all already be aware of the general position we are in. The rebels have recently occupied the city. You may not know the reason for this, and I will explain it to you simply- the rebel group is the Golden Defenders, the Cassion branch of the xenophobic society of the Righteous Sky, whose goal is to rid Cassion of foreigners and has been building over the past few months. They started off as peasants, but have grown like wildfire, with some legis, protectorate, valiers even switching sides, so we have a poor understanding of who is in the city at the moment and how many. If it is a fight I am not worried about it, and it will not be the first time the Tainish have succeeded at overpowering an unknown enemy." She paused here, for effect, and gave Gwinael another little nod. She was a tall woman and spoke calmly, remaining still while she spoke. "The supply line- this is our main concern now, and this is why we are here. The Tainish marine protectorate, they are on their way also, for a different mission." She pointed towards the west. "As some of you know, you saw it on your way up, on the other side of the Herb Hills are a series of peaks, about fifteen miles from here, fronted by foothills, at the bottom of these hills, is the entry to the valley, and the city of Chevelles, where the Golden Defenders are well established- there are rumours that their chancellor is a member. If this is true, this means that they likely have access to protectorate weapons, and supplies to mount a siege if required. So we close off that route." She looked into the faces of her officers, and scratched the edge of her mouth. She looked calm, but Gwinael knew her mother, and touching her face was a tell for underlying emotion. "This will be tricky." She went on to explain the enemy communication lines her scouts had identified, what various companies would be tasked with, and the role of the local protectorate, pointing at a map on the table in front of her with a stick. The officers crowded around to see. "Once we have done that we await new orders. One last thing, our intel tells us that we have three days until a supply column is expected to come through. That's our timeline." She continued to explain their strategy, that they needed to mount a surprise attack, meaning that they would be travelling the rest of the way by night, and resting during the day. Starting tomorrow. "Rest up today, maps of the gorge and orders will be delivered tomorrow. Dismissed." Gwinael's mother have her a slight nod and exited the tent, while a buzz of conversation rose up among the remaining officers in the tent. Gwinael slipped out behind her.
"Mother!" She said in a whisper.
"Oh love! How happy I am to see you, but I'll wait until we are in my tent to give you a hug and kiss, come on, this way!"
When they arrived, Gwinael's mother wrapped her arms around her daughter immediately. "Do you know how proud I am? Seeing you here! And in your gear! What a surprise! A wonderful one and a terrible one. You've made it through the pass so far though, haven't you? And your tea king must have proceeded well if you are here. Who are you under?" She let her daughter go, holding her at arms length and looking her up and down. "Fendel Heathtree, company fourteen."
"Oh yes, well you've done well so far, I've heard, especially with the night attack," Gwinael was relieved- it seems she hadn't heard about the missed signal. "It probably won't get any harder than what you've done so far." Her mother have her a steady look and Gwinael wondered of this was what they said to all newly graduated trainees but it reassured her nonetheless, she was dealt with a blow of homesickness, from seeing her mother, she supposed. Combined with the strangeness and remoteness of the terrain, and the fear of the danger they would face. She felt lost and helpless and ill-equipped for her task. At least she was with her mother today if something were to happen- they had seen each other and hugged each other. Then she added "I'm so proud of you," and wrapped her up in a hug that caused Gwinael's eyes to water. Thank the spirits they were no in view of others.
They bade each other goodbye and Gwinael returned to her companies camp, with orders not to say anything to anyone just yet. Halting when she spotted Heathtree's tent, she gazed out over the foothills, towards the two target peaks that they were headed towards, and she offered a silent request to the spirits for guidance, to guide her, her mother, and to protect the Tainish and Tainland: if they failed, who knows what that would mean for them all. She got to her bed, a swag laid out next to Andri's, had an evening meal prepared by the field kitchens, and she stood aloof of her camp and watched the sun descend below the horizon, under the darkening mantle of deep blue and purple, spreading overtop of the gold and orange the sun left behind. At least it would have been the most magnificent sunset she had ever seen, if it was to be her last. "Makes you think, doesn't it?" Her friend had come up to join her.
"What does?" He squinted, the skin around his eyes, brown from the sun, crinkling up as he looked at the fading light.
"Just about where we are. So high to the spirits and all," Andri had had a spiritualist upbringing, and Gwinael, who had not, was accustomed to his references. She instead thought of her colleagues who lay under cairns in shallow graves. Maybe it was fine: they were so close to the spirits here. But then there were those that had fallen from the hills, into chasms and gorges, they had no cairns, no graves, just their bodies against the elements. And worse, the scavengers. Large birds, who circled, waiting to pick at their bones. "Is it worth it?" Gwinael asked.
"Some people think so, but there's probably little thought given to what we do from most. Lillyroot?" He offered.
"Can't believe you like that stuff."
"Something to do, I suppose," they stood still, listening to the low murmurs of combattants and horses at camp, as the last sliver of sun dipped out of sight.
"I'll wish you a goodnight then," Gwinael said to her friend. She needed sleep, and hoped she could find it, despite what she knew of what was to come of the next day. She hoped to be a good, dependable combattant, and loyal to Tainland. Tainland. Was Tainland a noble and good force? Or were it's aspirations to continue to build it's empire based on blood and misery? Could it be any other way? Her mother had told her that the protectorate made her proud. And that she was a brick in the large palace of the empire. But Gwinael did not feel any pride (beyond what she had felt from what her mother had told her) for Tainland. Tomorrow night, they would march. For Tainland. She really didn't have any choice at this point. A fitful sleep eventually found her as she drifted off to the sounds of singing around one of the fires. Her last rational thought was that she hoped those singing would still be there to sing again