by Terah Edun
Sara was stewing in her unhappiness as they walked. She could think of nothing else.
When she could stand it no more, trotting by her captain’s side as he nodded and greeted ordinary mercenaries on his way, she spoke up.
“How can you just…act like today is normal?”
He stopped and looked down at her. His guards stopped around them, forming an octagonal shield.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Sara flung her hand back and pointed to the command tent, which was now as invisible as the first time she’d been alerted to its presence.
“We just left a torture session,” she said. “And you’re shaking hands and slapping shoulders like you’re on parade. Have you no humanity? No decency?”
He stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “I have just as much humanity and decency as any other fellow. But I am in command of thousands of men, men who look to me for leadership, for strength, and to be the person they can be guided by when there’s no other. I am their symbol.”
Sara swallowed and nodded. “And it doesn’t get to you? What’s done in your name?”
He looked up at the sky and back down at her. “Let me put it this way. When you killed in the empress’ name during that terrible night-and-day trapped under an enemy’s dome…do you regret your actions?”
“Of course not,” Sara said, shocked. “We had to do what was necessary in order to survive.”
He nodded. “And while you were thinking of the survival of a dozen individuals, maybe two dozen, I am doing everything in my power to keep not only the thousands here alive, but those back home as well.”
Sara blinked then hesitated. “Those back home aren’t in any danger. This is a personal war. A war between some upstarts who think they’re too good to serve and the empire.”
“Is that what you truly think? That it hasn’t evolved beyond that?”
Sara raised an eyebrow as she asked, “Has it?”
He gestured at the canyon that was in viewing distance of every single area in the canyon. “You tell me, Sara Fairchild. Tell me if this feels just personal.”
Sara shook her head. “I told you why that happened. How that happened. Retaliation.”
“Retaliation for your misdeeds, yes,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “But they didn’t just come up with the ability to serve bombardments like this with a minute’s notice. They’ve been thinking on this. Planning it. Hatching a scheme. They may have used it two days ago, but I can guarantee they had already planned to deploy their new weapon of mass fatalities elsewhere sooner rather than later.”
Sara shifted uncomfortably. “What are you saying?”
Barthis hung his head. “I’ve already told you more than I’m comfortable with, mercenary, but after today’s meeting, you can decide how much you want to know. How much you’re ready to know. But I’ll tell you, the Kades think we’re weak. They think we’re a target waiting to be butchered because until now we haven’t done a damned thing to dissuade them of that thought. But that’s about to change.”
“By getting answers from prisoners of war?” Sara said as they started walking again.
“That and more,” Captain Barthis said as he began walking with faster strides.
“What if I can get you answers another way?” Sara asked.
The captain walked into a different tent, one with a messenger on staff. He sat down at a table and began writing out missives.
“I’m listening,” Barthis said.
Hope bloomed in her chest a bit. “What if I could get him to give us the information we needed?”
“Him,” he said while he continued writing. “You mean your Kade prisoner?”
Sara nodded. “He is still alive, isn’t he?”
Barthis gave her a dark look. “Yes, he is. You captured him, you get first crack at him.”
“Thank you,” Sara said with a salute.
As she turned away, Barthis said, “I hope you don’t mean to just talk to him, though, Sara.”
She licked her dry lips as she lied, “Hadn’t crossed my mind.”
“Because it’ll never work.”
“I can still try,” she said, turning back to the captain.
He put down his quill and piled sand on the wet ink. Then, after a blow of hot air, satisfied that it was dry, he waved over the messenger. “Certify this,” Barthis said, pointing at the document.
The woman quickly went to work with her tools, including a seal. Once she was done and had signed as a witness, the captain waved Sara over.
“Sir?” she asked, staying right where she was.
He shot her an irritated look and motioned again for her to come. “It’s time to sign your warrant, Fairchild.”
“My what?”
“What?” the captain said. “You didn’t think I brought you here just to talk, did you?”
Sara was helpless. She didn’t know what to say.
“That’s really not necessary, sir.”
“Uh-huh,” Barthis said.
He got up then sat on the edge of the desk and pointed to a spot on the floor a few feet away. “I’m ordering you to come here now, Mercenary Fairchild.”
Sara reluctantly came to stand before him and waited for the words that would end her life as she knew it.
22
Sara squared her shoulders, waiting for the hammer to come down.
Her captain cocked his head. “You look quite…wary, Mercenary Fairchild.”
Deciding to speak her mind, Sara said, “Wouldn’t you be, captain, in my place?”
He laughed. “Well, I have been in your place, and to be honest, I was elated. But it seems you and I are cut from a different cloth. A much different cloth.”
Sara blinked then stared. “You got kicked out of the Mercenary’s Guild?” she said.
This had started out as a temporary assignment for her. Even more, it was a way to get out of the city of Sandrin and escape her pursuers while leaving no trail. So she wouldn’t exactly be sad if she was dismissed, though it did feel a bit like a kick to the gut.
“No,” he said with an odd look. “I don’t think I’d be in the position I have now if I had.”
Sara tried to blink away her irritation. “Then I guess you’re a better mercenary than I’ll ever be,” she said quietly. And for once, she didn’t mean it as an insult. It was true she’d been taught that Fairchilds were better than common mercenaries, but she’d fought and nearly died beside some rather “common” mercenaries, and if anyone asked her, from now on she’d tell them there would good men in the Mercenary’s Guild brigades.
“Mercenary Fairchild,” Captain Barthis said, “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot since this morning. I didn’t bring you here to punish you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Sara rocked back on her heels. “Really, sir?”
It was his turn to blink. “No—I mean, I know you brought it up two days ago, but I was half mad with grief, and to be honest, you looked like you were ready to pass out as soon as you left me. I just assumed you’d forgotten it.”
“I didn’t forget a single word,” Sara said.
He took a deep breath and stood up. “Then let me allay your fears and your self-recrimination, because I think you did a better job than some of my seasoned command, most of whom who had soldiers who died in the first round.”
Sara looked at him warily. “Why are we here, sir?” she said. “Just tell me.”
He reached behind him and snapped his fingers. The messenger rushed forward and hurriedly put the letter in his hands.
Barthis handed it over to her. “This is a warrant letter for your promotion—not, as you seem to think, your dismissal, Mercenary Fairchild.”
Sara felt several emotions. First relief, which quickly changed to disbelief. Then giddiness. Finally, confusion.
“You’re not firing me?” Sara said, so shocked that she forgot his honorific.
He smiled in satisfaction. “No. In fact, I’
m giving you your own command, Mercenary Fairchild.”
“What?” Sara said, astonished.
“You heard me.”
She shook her head and then thought of all the reasons why he shouldn’t. Including the fact that she was on the run, as she was only here as long as she had to be.
Sara was thinking of her family when she blurted out, “I can’t imagine you don’t have your pick of choices. Why a Fairchild?”
“I need someone I can trust,” he said. “Someone who will not hold back their ideas at the thought of offending me.”
Sara rocked back on her heels as she listened.
“And you fit that bill,” he said.
“But I haven’t earned it,” Sara said. “There must be far better individuals suited for a promotion.”
He ticked off his apparently well-thought-out points on his fingers. “You managed to get your group out of a battle unharmed as a fresh-off-the-books recruit, lead another group through an all-night skirmish against the Kades on your first run out, and you even follow orders when given…and reinforced.”
Sara stiffened. He had to be talking about the little torture session with Nissa. She was breathing hard just thinking about it. Still, it wasn’t enough. Not to her.
“You seemed to have thought some of this through,” Sara said. “But I still can’t be your first choice.”
He laughed and sat back on the desk. “To be honest, you are. We have lost a lot of good warriors in the last three days.”
Sara rolled her eyes. “So I’m a consolation promotion. Got it.”
He held up his hands and rubbed his eyes. “No, no. Perhaps my sense of humor is going over your head.”
Sara stared at him. She hadn’t thought he had one.
Lowering his hands, Captain Barthis said slowly, “You surprise me at every turn, Sara Fairchild, and I want to reward that persevering spirit.”
“Even if I question your judgment,” she said.
“Especially so,” he replied.
“But why?” Sara asked again. This was the worst thing she could think of. She’d be officially responsible for the men and women under her command day in and day out. She wasn’t dreading the work—she was dreading the idea of living up to the command.
He ticked off more points on his hand. “You’ve shown leadership under fire.”
“I rushed blindly into battle,” she countered.
“You managed to defeat a force of overwhelming odds.”
“I killed people with abandon.”
“And you managed to invent an entirely new system of attacking enemies across long distances.”
Sara mulishly crossed her arms. “I managed to infuriate an enemy so badly that they declared outright war.”
“We were already at war,” Barthis said while sitting back. “The Kades just didn’t know it.”
Sara stared at him. He seemed set on this. And, well, when he put it like that, it did sound like she was a proper and loyal imperial mercenary.
Seeing her dismay, Barthis sighed. “I’m not much of a fan of you either, but I reward the mercenaries loyal to me and this cause.”
Sara practically bit her tongue off as she fought not to say, No, you just beat the disloyal ones near to death.
“As such,” he continued, “I am proud to commission you, Lieutenant Commander Fairchild.”
He looked at her, obviously expecting a response.
She licked her dry lips as she said weakly, “Thank you, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, beaming as he grabbed a quill and motioned for her to sign the warrant alongside the official witness and himself.
As she came around the desk, Sara tried one more time. “Is there any way I can turn you down?”
“No,” he said. “Besides, you’ll need the promotion in the next few weeks.”
If she’d expected him to say anything, it wasn’t that.
“Why is that?” Sara asked, blinking.
He motioned at the blank part of the document awaiting her signature. “I’ll tell you as soon as you’ve signed on to your new commission.”
Sara glared at him and practically stabbed the page as she leaned over and penned her name in swoops and swirls. As he stepped toward her back, she whirled around so fast that she almost jabbed him in the eye with her quill.
“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously. She was half-concerned he wanted to garrote her from behind…or stab her.
But she saw neither wire nor knife in his hands.
Eyes twinkling the captain took a broad step back and looked at her quizzically. “Now Lieutenant Commander—why would I want to kill you so quickly after promoting you?”
It was as if he had read her mind and Sara Fairchild didn’t bother denying it.
“It’s what I’d do with an upstart loudmouth who causes more trouble than she is worth,” she said with frankness.
He raised an eyebrow.
“I can be honest with myself,” she said in a defensive tone. “I know I come off abrasive.”
“More like impossible,” he chided softly.
“And stubborn,” she said while crossing her arms with a glare.
“Bull-headed,” he said dryly.
“But I’m smart,” she said with a warning flashing in her eyes. She was tired of being insulted.
He shrugged and turned slightly to the desk. Reaching past her, he grabbed an ornate metal disc off its flat tabletop. She had noticed it before only in passing.
Holding it up so that the metal caught the light emanating off the mage orbs floating throughout his secondary command tent he said, “You’re tenacious and brilliant as well.”
Instead of mollifying her, the compliments only put her back up.
“What’s that?” Sara Fairchild said while eyeing the disc warily and changing the subject quickly.
“It’s the disc that symbolizes your new rank until your uniforms come in,” he said.
Her hackles immediately went up.
“Which you don’t have to wear if you keep the disc always on and in sight,” he quickly added.
“Oh,” she said softly as she took the proffered metal and studied it. It was as wide as her hand and just a bit bigger than the one she wore currently. That and the varied metals, this one had at least some copper in it, were the biggest differences.
Deciding it couldn’t hurt, Sara said, “Fine” and switched them out.
“There,” the captain said brightly. “Now, that wasn’t so hard.”
Stomach twisting and turning, Sara replied with a snarl, “Speak for yourself.”
If he heard her retort, he chose to ignore it. He handed the messenger their riding discs which he grabbed from a pouch near the entrance and told them to head for the capital to file the warrant and other letters he’d previously addressed—posthaste.
The man leapt up and ran out of the tent as if there was a fire under his butt. Which pleased the captain to no end.
Rolling her eyes at his self-satisfied smirk, Sara paced the tent a bit until she couldn’t stand the silence and barked at him, “So you were planning to tell me what was so important that I had to be commissioned a Lieutenant Commander in your blasted armed forces to do it.”
Coolly the captain turned to her with his hands in pockets. “Watch it, Fairchild or I’ll think you don’t want this posting.”
She glared at him and almost snapped ‘I don’t.’ But he surely had to know that.
When she was silent and held her thoughts back he nodded briskly. “Good, you may need to work on masking your emotions but at least I see you have the ability to prevent yourself from throwing out every thought that comes through your head.”
Pursing her lips Sara crossed her arms over the disc hanging ominously on her chest. She wasn’t saying another word until he explained why he wanted her commissioned at a higher rank so bad.
He sighed and said, “Very well, I’m sending you after the sun mage.”
Sara sti
ffened so much that she almost fell over. This was two surprises in one day.
Sara couldn’t believe her ears. “Excuse me?”
He studied his hands. “You’re going after the sun mage. I want Nissa Sardonien here, where I can question her.”
Nissa’s escape was brand-new news to her, though not exactly unexpected.
Voice practically strangled, Sara replied, “Wasn’t she here before today?”
Barthis looked her dead in the eye. “When the Kades came, they had one goal. Guess what it was.”
Sara found a chair and sat down with a groan. “I knew they wanted to recover Nissa, but I had no idea they succeeded.”
Icily, her captain said, “No one else knows. I keep my secrets close and my enemies closer. After I had deposited her back in her cage, only I and two others had knowledge of her whereabouts.”
“But the Kades found her,” Sara said, shocked.
A dark look entered the captain’s eyes. “And believe me, I will be dealing mercilessly with the traitor who leaked that bit of information. We’ve already detained him to see what else he told our enemies.”
Sara flinched. She’d hate to be that person. She was beginning to see Captain Barthis was ruthless whenever the situation called for it—whether it was disciplining an unruly, low-ranked mercenary or questioning a prisoner of war. She’d hate to see what kind of punishment he’d come up with for a traitor.
Shuddering, Sara focused on the conversation at hand. “So Nissa is gone and obviously we want her back, but wouldn’t Commander Amadeus or Commander Karina be better for this sort of thing?”
When he looked at her, she hastily tacked on “Sir!”
She hadn’t meant to be disrespectful; she just wasn’t used to the strict order of command. Especially when flustered.
Finally, Barthis said, “Karina died holding down the healers’ encampment. Protecting them with just eight other mercenaries. She gave her life so that others might be saved.”
Sara stilled. She didn’t think that made the woman any less of a bitch, but it might ease her journey into the gods’ realm if so.
“And Amadeus?”
Barthis blinked. “Assassinated before this even begun.”
Sara gasped. “They were here before? While you were gathered around Nissa?”