by Sandra Elsa
The following morning they were up again before dawn and Trace led the way to the mess hall. This morning, the sound coming from within was subdued, unlike yesterday when it had been a boisterous crowd of young men and women. The reason for the change in atmosphere was obvious when they walked through the front door.
Pacing back and forth like a caged cat just inside the door was Captain Torel. When he saw them he pounced, “Why did you go outside the city last night?”
Had he followed them? If so, what had he seen? Surely Conall would have sensed him. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t allowed,” she said, her outward appearance calm. Her mind racing.
They were the center of attention, people were still eating, but it was methodical. All ears were on the conversation taking place at the door.
“Who did you go out to meet?” he demanded.
Good, that meant he hadn’t followed closely enough to see Conall. “My weapons' instructor if you must know,” she retorted, angered by his prying. “How do you even know that we left?”
“I had Baltor tag you as you left HQ. Surely you didn’t think I’d let you roam without a tracer with what had just been discussed.” Silence reigned in the mess hall; shock appeared on some faces.
Trace spoke up indignantly “It is unethical to tag your own troops sir.”
“At that time you were not my troops, were you?” He glowered at the regular army soldiers who sat judging his actions. As the Prince’s gaze fell upon them, the other troops began eating, desperate not to be noticed. Trace and Bella were on their own and no amount of indignation would help their cause.
“Why would you even propose what you did if you didn’t feel you could trust us for a single night?” Bella asked—the very poised voice of reason. Then she noticed what he had said and realized that their privacy had been thoroughly violated.
She turned around and stalked out the door, unwilling to continue the argument any further in front of the others. The Prince followed her closely and Trace paced just behind.
She rounded on Torel, “Are we still tagged? Is that how you knew when we’d be here? You said we weren’t your troops when you had us tagged, but you know which way we decided, don’t you? Did you even listen to our conversations?”
“I warned you yesterday that it was not safe to talk at the inn. And no, you're not still tagged. I have been pacing here the last half hour, you have no idea how many recruits left hungry in their hurry to get away.” He looked from Bella to Trace and back again. “Tell me who Angel is. It seems I have him to thank for your decision, and what was the other name...Conall. Why would you consult them on this decision, especially when you were told not to discuss it outside the sealed room?”
Bella was torn between scowling and smiling. “The simple answer is, they are my traveling companions—my friends.” Then she looked him square in the eye and said, “They are my horse and my dog, and the conversation could not possibly have been overheard.”
He stopped, momentarily speechless, then he shook his head and laughed—loudly, “I'll admit that you have an unnatural connection with your horse, but I must meet this dog.”
The sound of his laughter must have reached inside because suddenly the spell of silence was broken. Normal volume returned.
“I’m afraid that will be quite impossible,” she said.
Torel frowned, but his eyes still twinkled with laughter. “Let me guess. He stays with your weapons' instructor who will not consent to meet with me.”
With a straight face she told him, “Close, but not quite. You see, he is my weapons' instructor.”
Torel shook his head, smiling. “Enough. You will be perfect for this assignment. It is as though the Gods themselves sent you to me just now.”
Thinking back to Angel’s response last night, she began to wonder how far off that was.
“You and your brother will not be good for my reputation. Most of the troops fear me, if for no other reason than who I am. They have seen you land first strike with swords and now you have talked back to me in front of others. I would appreciate it if you would walk back in there looking properly chastised.”
Then he raised his voice and said angrily, “Report to me as soon as you're done eating, and don’t be long about it.” With a smile he turned on his heel and left.
When they reentered the mess hall they drew many curious stares. A goodly number of people rose from their seats, as though they had been waiting for the way to be clear to escape. With sympathetic looks at Trace’s defeated expression, they dashed for safety, not wanting to be around if Captain Torel should return.
Shortly, attention turned to more mundane matters than who had managed to cross the Prince and they were allowed to eat their meal in peace. As soon as they finished, they headed for HQ.
Captain Torel was there, waiting, as was Captain Farren. It would seem Captain Farren had not felt the need to spy on them. Nor had Captain Torel enlightened him. When they walked through the door Farren looked up expectantly. “Shall we go to the back?” he asked.
“No,” Bella said emphatically. “I promised someone last night that I would not go back to that room unless it was life or death.”
Captain Farren looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, but from his seat behind the desk, Captain Torel drawled with a lazy smile, “Well darlin’, would that have been the dog or the horse?”
“The dog,” Bella said, returning his smile.
Noting the easy camaraderie Captain Farren realized the decision had been made and not in his favor. “Very well then, I have troops awaiting me. Sergeant Gunter, turn in your equipment as soon as possible.” He turned on his heel and left.
The desk sergeant on duty looked puzzled but when no explanation of the earlier comments was forthcoming he stuck his nose back in his paperwork. Pretending not to notice the three of them until he was called upon to find Trace and Bella’s enlistment contracts.
When the sergeant returned with both contracts Captain Torel made the necessary changes to Bella‘s, officially assigning her to the Guard, he read over Trace’s contract and made changes to it also. The sergeant signed as witness to these changes.
Captain Torel looked at Trace and said, “Sergeant Gunter, get your old issue and get down to supply. Take Corporal Gunter with you and both of you draw Guard issue. Return that nag you signed for, and report to the Guard stables. I’ll leave orders that you’re to be assigned a permanent mount—you will be responsible for his care. Corporal, bring your horse with you he’ll be stabled with the rest of the Guard mounts from now on. Give any special orders concerning him to Stefan the sergeant in charge of the stables. Then find your grandfather and report to me at the Guard HQ.”
Trace turned promptly. After two years he was used to following orders. Bella was a little slower but took her cue from him.