“Lancer Tal chose me for my blade-handling skills. She needed a specialist.”
There was little he could say to that, though she thought she could hear him grinding his teeth. When he uncrossed his muscular arms and poked her in the chest, it was like being hit with the end of a staff.
“Then you’re Lead Guard for both of them right now, which means I am holding you personally responsible for Raiz Opah’s safety.”
“I’m sworn to Lancer Tal first. But I promise you that I will look after them both.”
His scowl lessened slightly. “On your honor?”
“On my honor.”
“See to it, then.” Without another word, he stalked away.
When she rejoined the others in the staging room, she found another disappointed Guard. Standing next to Lancer Tal and looking startlingly like her was Varsi, now with blonde hair and blue eyes. The colorizers had done a good job, and in one of the Lancer’s fine suits, she could easily pass for her at a distance. Her part of the mission was to be seen around the corridors and grounds of the State House in case Parser’s spies were watching.
Chief Counselor Aldirk arrived, looked Varsi up and down, and said, “She makes a better Lancer Tal than you do.”
The Lancer smiled. “At least we know that if I don’t return, there will be no interruption in government.”
Vellmar laughed along with the other Guards, but when she caught sight of Raiz Opah, her amusement ended. Opah was fronting it perfectly, but the fear was visible in her eyes.
She forgot about it during the excitement of leaving. The Lancer’s long-distance transport was a luxury ride, its enormous main cabin effortlessly swallowing all of its passengers and their gear. Vellmar chose a seat near the back, wanting a quiet location to complete her mental preparations.
To her surprise, Lancer Tal and Raiz Opah walked past her to sit in the very last row. She would have expected them to fly in their private cabin, but after a moment’s reflection, she realized that Lancer Tal did not want to remove herself from her team before the mission. She was not the Lancer now; she was the team leader.
For two hanticks, Vellmar watched the scenery pass beneath them, letting her mind go quiet and calm. When the coastline of Argolis floated past, leaving nothing to see but ocean and a few clouds, she emerged from her mental state and became aware of a hushed conversation going on behind her.
Remembering Opah’s look of fear, she guessed what this might be about. When their voices suddenly rose in volume, her guess became a certainty.
“What more can I say to convince you? This is part of what I do!”
“You are the leader of our world! How can you risk yourself like this? It’s folly!”
Vellmar blinked at the anger in Raiz Opah’s voice.
“Because I’m also the leader of my caste, and I don’t lead by staying safely behind a desk while others take the risk! Trust me, that’s not the way to earn the respect of the warriors.” Lancer Tal paused, then continued in a calmer tone. “Tyrina, I’ve trained all my life for missions like this, and I’ve successfully completed quite a few before now. Please give me some credit for being good at my job.”
“‘Good’ is not good enough. You expect too much from me. How am I supposed to sit here while not one but two members of my family are in danger?” Raiz Opah lowered her voice slightly. “You had better damn well be perfect.”
“I promise you that I will be.”
“You cannot make that promise.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” The Lancer’s voice rose again. “You’re asking for assurances you won’t believe!”
“I want you to stay here! You have twenty Guards on this shekking transport, and only six of them are going in with you. Surely you can find someone among the other fourteen who can throw a knife.”
Vellmar winced. She was embarrassed to be hearing such a private argument, but if she got up and moved now, it would look too obvious. She slid lower in her seat and stared fixedly out the window.
“Thank you very much for your staggering estimation of my skills.”
“I’m sure your skills are just fine. I’m also sure that this transport is full of equally skilled Guards who have less to risk.”
“Equally—! Goddess above, Salomen! Do you have so little understanding of who I am? Whatever happened to the greatest warrior of her generation? Did you think I spent the Battle of Alsea hiding in a transport, letting others do the work?”
“You cannot compare the two! Our entire world was at risk then. This is not the same thing.”
“No, now it’s my title, my government, and your brother’s life at risk!” Lancer Tal let out a frustrated growl. “I should have known this was coming. You never asked because you didn’t want to know. And you really don’t know.”
A harsh clink indicated a harness buckle being thrown aside with some vigor.
“Where are you going?”
“To my cabin! Maybe I can get the mental space I need to not get myself killed there! Please do me the courtesy of giving me a little privacy. I cannot do this now, Salomen. I just can’t.”
Lancer Tal brushed past, her anger showing in the stiffness of her bearing as she strode up the aisle.
Vellmar watched out of the corner of her eye, trying not to appear as if she had noticed anything. She sympathized; an argument like this was extremely detrimental to a warrior’s readiness. Raiz Opah was tough and strong, but she clearly did not understand her bondmate.
Several ticks passed as Raiz Opah shifted repeatedly in her seat. Vellmar wondered if she should go back and say something. Perhaps she could help. But it wasn’t her place, and she had no right to presume that level of intimacy. Then again, no one on this transport had that level of intimacy. Perhaps she should brave it after all.
She went back and forth in her mental argument at least three times before the issue was taken out of her hands when Colonel Micah walked past her. The creak of a seat indicated his greater weight settling down.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
“Not really.” Raiz Opah’s voice was strained. “Colonel Micah, can you not talk sense into her? She doesn’t need to do this! I don’t understand why she’s insisting on it. It’s dangerous and unnecessary, and it scares me halfway to my Return. And it’s not as if she can claim she doesn’t know what it’s doing to me. I’m sitting here terrified, and she’s angry with me!”
“Ah. You argued over her choice to lead the primary mission?”
“Why is she doing it? Why? It’s…it’s just foolhardy!”
There was a long pause.
“Salomen, I must ask you—did you say that to Tal?”
“No. Well, not like that.”
“What did you say?”
“I just pointed out the fact that there are other people on this transport who could be going instead of her.”
Vellmar could almost hear the colonel stifling his groan. His front was weak.
“What?” Raiz Opah asked. “What was so wrong about that? It’s true.”
“No, it’s not. And you offered her grave disrespect by saying it.”
“For Fahla’s sake, I did not disrespect her. I just—”
“Implied that she is no more accomplished or qualified to lead than any of the Guards who serve her. But worse than that, you told her that she’s not likely to succeed.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you told her. And it’s what she’s feeling from you, isn’t it? She feels your fear.”
“How am I supposed to not be afraid? I can’t hide that from her.”
“No, but you can tell her that despite your fear, you know she’s the best person for the mission and that she’s coming back to you. That’s what she needs
to hear. No, please, listen to me. This is important, and your understanding may affect whether Tal walks out unscathed or not.”
After an electric silence, Raiz Opah said, “I’m listening.”
“Thank you. You’re a courageous woman, and I know that has been taxed to the limit recently. You have every right to be fearful. But you’re Tal’s bondmate, and that means you have a power no one has ever had until now. You can give her strength, or you can take it away. And right now that power is more important than anything you personally feel. If you let your fear for her overwhelm you, she’ll be handicapped at a time when she needs every advantage. She’ll be distracted by worry and the echoes of your fear, and that can easily mean her death.”
Though Raiz Opah’s front never wavered, Vellmar knew the colonel’s words were hitting her hard.
“If you’re trying to frighten me even more, you’ve certainly succeeded.”
“In a way, I am. I need you to understand the power and responsibility you hold. And you need to understand who Tal is. You are not bonded to a scholar; you’re bonded to a warrior. And not just any warrior, but the leader of our caste. She did not reach that position by standing in the back of her unit while others earned the honor. She got there by being out in front, every time. Sometimes her role as leader of Alsea is secondary to her role as leader of our caste, and this is one of those times.”
“With all due respect, that’s dokshin. She is the Lancer. That should never be less important than her caste role. She has a responsibility to the people of Alsea.”
“Yes, she does. A responsibility that she cannot carry out without the support and respect of her caste. We’re not a perfect caste by any means, and Fahla knows we have our quirks. We’ll overlook bad judgment and poor decisions—up to a point—but we will not overlook cowardice or dishonor. Tal understands that, and she knows the obligations of her role. She knows she has to do this or lose face in the eyes of her caste at a time when their support is critical. More than that, she wants to do this. We all do. There are quite a few Guards back in Blacksun who were unhappy to be left behind, including all ten of yours. You must accept that this is part of Tal’s identity, the same way she accepts that your bond with Hol-Opah is part of yours. The question is not whether she should go. You need to set that aside. The only real question is whether you will help or hinder her, and right now, you’re hindering her.”
Vellmar was impressed, not just with Colonel Micah’s argument but also with the fact that he was speaking with such brutal honesty to the Bondlancer. Apparently, there was someone on this transport who could presume a high level of intimacy with her.
“All right, fine. I don’t like it, but I can see that I have no choice.”
“No, you don’t. I’m sorry for that, and I could wish that you’d had much more time to learn and understand our code. You’ve been on a ride you never asked for, and I have nothing but the deepest admiration and respect for how you’ve handled it so far. Truly, I could not have chosen a better bondmate for Tal.”
“Thank you. Though I don’t feel like a good bondmate at the moment. She’s up there in her cabin, seething because of me. At least I understand a little better why she’s so upset. But I don’t know how to fix it. I cannot change my emotions, and I can’t front them from her.”
“But you can choose which emotions you give the most weight to. We’re two hanticks away from a dangerous mission, and each of us prepares for that in our own way. I know how Tal prepares because I taught it to her. It’s one of the fundamentals of our code—visualize your success and achieve it; focus on your failure and sink. Tal is imagining the mission, from every angle she can think of, with every possible variation. And every one of them ends in success. If one of her imaginings leads to failure, then she goes back and rethinks it until she figures out a way to make it end successfully. But I suspect she’s finding it difficult to concentrate because she thinks you don’t believe in her. And if she can’t visualize her success, then there’s a very good chance it won’t happen. So you need to tell her that you are sure she’ll succeed, and that she is the right person to lead the primary mission. She understands your fear. But she needs to be able to set it aside, and she cannot do that if she believes that your fear comes from a certainty of her failure.”
“Shek. You ask as much from me as she does.”
His voice was gentle. “I ask only what the Bondlancer should give.”
After a pause, Raiz Opah spoke so softly that Vellmar could barely hear her.
“I’m just so tired of being afraid.”
Their voices dropped even further, and Vellmar became aware that she was putting far too much effort into listening. It was one thing to be unable to avoid hearing and another to actively intrude on someone’s privacy. Ashamed, she yanked her gear bag open and noisily rustled around in it before taking out a well-worn book. Opening it to her marker, she did her best to lose herself in the text. But she had barely read two pages before Raiz Opah walked past, her head high as she made her way to the other end of the main cabin. Vellmar lowered her book and looked after her. It had never occurred to her how difficult it might be for members of other castes to understand her own.
A heavy hand on her shoulder nearly jolted her out of her seat. Colonel Micah looked down at her with a knowing expression. “And how are you doing?”
“I’m counting the ticks,” she said, trying to ignore her embarrassment. “And looking forward to bringing Raiz Opah’s brother back.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You and me both, Vellmar. Let’s make sure it happens.”
“Oh, it will,” she said confidently. “Lancer Tal is leading us.”
He smiled broadly, squeezed once more, and moved back to his seat.
CHAPTER 34:
Extraction
Leaving Salomen in the transport was even more unsettling than Tal had expected. First Pilot Thornlan and two heavily armed Guards remained with her, while four more kept a perimeter around the landing site, scanning for any approach. Thornlan was under strict instructions to evacuate if the perimeter was breached.
She made sure Salomen was nowhere in hearing range when she gave that order.
It had been a difficult decision to bring her at all. Tal had wanted to leave her in the safety of the State House, preferably surrounded by at least thirty warriors, but Salomen objected vociferously. She pointed out that she could hardly be safer than in a transport filled with Tal’s most trusted warriors, which Tal acknowledged was true—until most of those warriors left the transport to carry out the mission. Then Salomen reminded her that magnifying their range required both of them, and if Tal wanted any more information on Herot or his captors once the transport left Blacksun, she had two choices: bring her tyree, or walk up to that building, knock on the door, and make polite inquiries.
There were times when Tal wondered if she would ever win an argument again.
But Salomen was right. The presence of those outlying guards necessitated a landing two valleys away from Herot’s location, and only by Sharing after their landing was Tal able to determine that they were still undetected.
Her final preparation entailed pulling Salomen into a long, fervent warmron. Just before she stepped out, Salomen stopped her with a touch and said, “Come back to me.”
One hantick of hard hiking later, Tal was still reeling from the words and their staggering import. This mission had the single objective of rescuing Herot, but Salomen had made her own priority very clear. She had not said, “Bring Herot back.”
Tal would do everything she could to prevent her from living with such a choice.
It had been several moons since she last hiked terrain this steep. Central Pallea was nothing but high ridges and narrow valleys, blanketed by dense forest that shut out the light but not the stifling heat. The forest floor was soft with the remains of le
aves from many winters past, making their footing difficult. They could not see the true contours of the land, and at one time or another, all of them found the seemingly solid ground giving way beneath them. It was impossible to hike quickly when every step had to be taken with such care.
Vellmar stepped into a hole so deep that she toppled over, forced to twist and fall to save her leg. Tal halted in alarm, dreading the thought of losing their best blade handler, but Vellmar pulled herself up again, took a few steps, and gave Tal a nod.
They moved even more carefully after that.
Though they were all in excellent physical condition, every one of them breathed a sigh of relief once they made the top of the second ridge. When they settled onto the spongy ground for a well-earned break, Tal popped the mouthpiece of her water flask between her teeth and gratefully sucked down what seemed like half her supply. She was certain she weighed less now than when she had left the transport, and her damp uniform was palpable proof.
They were all wearing covert mission uniforms, which used nanotechnology built into the fabric to detect localized light wavelengths and match them. Here in the deep forest, their uniforms blended perfectly with the various shades of green. The fabric was also effective at conducting moisture across a one-way differential, so the fact that she could feel any dampness at all meant she had been sweating a great deal.
She gave everyone five ticks to rest and hydrate before motioning to her two optics teams to start the search. Somewhere on this ridge, far to the left, one of Parser’s warriors was keeping watch. The other was on the ridge across from them. While the optics teams scanned for the outlying warriors, the rest of them studied the large, dilapidated domed building sitting in a clearing below.
“I see Parser spared no expense for housing,” Tal whispered to Micah. “That thing looks like it could fall on their heads at any moment.”
Micah nodded, still watching the building through his own scanning glasses. “Not good,” he whispered back. “Old construction like that is going to make noise when we move through it.”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 24