by Raven Oak
A young man stumbled his way toward her, beads of sweat popping up across his brow as he took in her massive horse. Midnight remained still, yet the sergeant stopped a good ten feet from her. His face betrayed his youth, and she reexamined her impression of the Alexandrian guard. Even if a full garrison was housed at each tower, if they were all this green, that wasn’t a great sign.
Luckily for him, the young man kept himself in full view at all times. “Master Adelei, you are expected. If you’d lead your horse through those gates on the left, there’s a stable where you can take care of his needs and leave him while you rest. Lieutenant Thomas will be with you shortly.” With a nod of thanks, Adelei led Midnight through the gate and across the border into the Kingdom of Alexander.
Crossing over didn’t magically change the appearance of the land around her, but her muscles tensed in response to her unease. A group of people stood on the other side of the gate, and their mannerisms and postures changed upon sight of her. One person in particular, whose uniform held much more embellishment than the others, glared at her, and she studied the various insignias stitched into the rugged blue cloth.
Must be our Lieutenant Thomas.
For him, she dismounted, doing so slowly and deliberately to give them all a full view of her weapons and relaxed posture. No one offered to take her horse. Good—with me this tense, Midnight would rip the hand off anyone who approached me in this state.
A nearby soldier pointed a shaking hand toward the stable to her left, which was enclosed on all sides with grey stone instead of the sandstone she was used to seeing. A whistle escaped her mouth and behind her, the well-decorated man said, “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“So much stone.”
“Have to keep the sand out or it will rub our mounts bare. Wood would only wear away.”
“Why not sandstone?” she asked. A small turn of her head showed that he followed her at an acceptable distance while he watched Midnight.
“This is Alexander, Master Adelei. We have no intention of resembling your home country.”
“Lieutenant Thomas, is it?” He nodded, and she continued, “There’s no need for the title. I am no Master.”
He tapped a finger against his thin lips. “Our orders from the King stated that a Master Adelei of Amaskan would be traveling from Sadai to Alesta. Are you not her?”
“I-I am. I hadn’t expected your king’s acknowledgement of my status. I’ll have to thank him upon my arrival.” He didn’t catch the sarcasm in her voice, or if he did, he hid it well. She rubbed her finger across the puffy scar forming at her jawline.
She was no Master. She never would be. She wasn’t even Amaskan anymore.
He followed her into the building, which was divided into small stalls, and by the smells and sounds, she noted cows and goats in addition to the horses. She led Midnight into the empty stall and removed her gear, starting first with the saddlebags. Her escort shifted from side to side as he waited, and when Midnight drank thirstily of the provided water, he cleared his throat in reminder.
“Now that Midnight’s been cared for, I suppose formal introductions are in order. Adelei,” she said, and when she extended a hand in greeting, he ignored it.
“Lieutenant Thomas,” he said, and Adelei passed through the stall’s gate. “I’m in charge of the garrison at this stop of the border. I’m to provide you any supplies you may need for your trip to the capital city of Alesta, along with your escort.”
“I appreciate the supplies. Desert is brutal this time of year.” He turned, expecting her to follow him, but she rifled through one of the saddlebags until she found the small jar of aloe.
His thinning hair betrayed the sweat underneath as he ran well-groomed hands through the black and gray strands of what hair remained. Wonderful Gods—a newly promoted lieutenant. She didn’t let it bother her that he feared her; that reaction came with the job, but his lack of experience made her question the military strength of Alexander.
Their troops wouldn’t know the first thing about protection detail if the Tribor were involved. Adelei rubbed salve across the few sore spots on Midnight’s skin while she kept a watchful eye on the Lieutenant.
He’d returned, along with his scowl. “Is this… necessary? We have stablehands who could treat your horse.”
She schooled her face to a complete mask of neutrality; ten years of training had cured her of giving away more than she wanted, and yet today she found herself at odds with her training. Vulnerable. Exposed. That’s how this country made her feel—either that or she was more tired than she suspected.
Master Bredych’s voice whispered in her ear—vulnerability leads to death—and she clenched her teeth as she rubbed the aloe into another sore spot. Midnight shifted his weight and harrumphed, much to the Lieutenant’s dismay.
Adelei dove into the task before her, and the massage coupled with the salve’s relaxing odor let her own body relax. Once it was obvious that she had no intention of leaving until her horse was taken care of, Lieutenant Thomas blathered on at length about the kingdom, the capital city, and anything at all. His own nervousness kept him blissfully unaware of hers as he babbled. She pulled out of her partial trance when he mentioned the princess, Margaret Poncett.
Let’s see what the greenie will tell me. She asked in Alexandrian, “What can you tell me about her?”
He opened his mouth and closed it quickly. Thomas schooled his own features, mostly failing though she applauded the attempt. “Princess Margaret is marrying Prince Gamun of Shad, as was arranged in the peace treaty signed at the end of the Little War of Three. More than that, I wouldn’t know—being so far out here at the border.”
“Among my people, travel is encouraged,” she said as she took a brush to Midnight. “You’ve been stationed here at the border, as you said. Have your people not seen a Sadain citizen before?”
His hands tensed along the stall’s gate. “We have, Master Adelei. What gives you the impression that we have not?”
Adelei faced him. “Since the moment I set foot in this garrison, you and everyone stationed here have been nervous, if not borderline rude. I have to wonder why that is? Surely your orders from His Majesty stressed the importance of my visit.”
“My apologies, Master. My soldiers… well, they think you’re Amaskan, and honestly, I understand their assumption.” His eyes stopped on the corner of her jaw just below her ear and then continued on to her bald head, which peeked out beneath her scarf.
“I assure you that I am not, despite my appearances. There are sects in Sadai, holy orders that share the belief of removing hair from the body, the vessel, in order to remain closer to the Gods.”
“And the scratch?”
“I cut myself shaving.” For a moment, she worried he might push the issue, but after a heartbeat, he nodded ever so slowly. “I appreciate your concern for the safety of your people, I do. It’s the sign of a good, strong commander. I think perhaps I would like to find somewhere to rest, if I might.”
“Certainly.”
She followed him from the stables where soldiers busied themselves at their tasks as if not a one of them had been eavesdropping on the conversation between their lieutenant and the supposed killer in their midst.
A tavern easily ten times her own in height stood nearby. Another stable, what looked to be barracks by the number of people entering and leaving, and several smaller buildings stood to her right. To the left, a rectangular stone structure that smelled of a dinner hall set her stomach rumbling.
A young woman exited, her hands full with a plate of food. When she caught sight of Adelei and the lieutenant, the woman stumbled back a few steps, and the tray tumbled from her fingers. Adelei sighed at the reaction, but followed as the Lieutenant led her toward the smallest of three buildings. The door slid open to her guest quarters, complete with a private bathing area.
These were quarters reserved for dignitaries for sure. People with more money than her. A few rugs and paintings decorate
d the larger living area, which gave the place a roomier feel than the garrison’s exterior. On the occasion that she could afford to stay at an inn, she’d enjoyed the ability to bathe regularly without the need of a creek or lake but always in a common bath house. Never in private. Not like this.
Being dirty was dangerous as sweat grew into smells that even the stuffiest of noses could detect. Despite this, not even the Order had the wealth or the room to give every member a private bath. Alexander must have been rich indeed to afford guest rooms this elaborate at the border.
“Just about everything you need should be here. If you should get hungry, the larger building north of here is the dining hall. If you need anything else, all you need to do is ask Sergeant Fenton. He’ll be just outside your room—for your protection.”
So she was to be guarded. Good. For all they knew, she was a ruthless killer. To the lieutenant, she nodded her thanks. He took his leave, and with sore feet she scampered to the bathing chamber where she found water pipes, a small metal tub, and plenty of lye. Lye soap wasn’t the most comfortable way to bathe, but the small metal tub was a vast improvement over no bath at all. One turn of the knob and hot water poured from the pipes to fill the tub.
Using her own bristled brush, she scrubbed her skin near raw and removed a week’s worth of dust and grime. Only after she’d repeated the scrub three times over, did her body feel clean. Adelei left the mud-colored water behind. Without a thought for anything else, she crawled, eyes drooping and stomach forgotten, into the available bed and was asleep before midnight for the first time in a week.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brieghton Border Garrison; 255 Cercian 2nd
Adelei woke, muscles stiff and blankets twisted around her legs and feet from a night of dreaming. Something about fleeing on horseback, only she had been thrown over the saddle. The same old dream. The muddled memory puzzled her, and she pushed it aside. When she stood, her thigh cramped, and she stretched up on tiptoes to release the strain.
Last evening, she’d lacked the time and energy to examine the room, but now that the sun shone through the single window, she found it less impressive than the day before. Sleep gave her fresh eyes that noticed the hole in the colorful rug and the burn mark on the window covering.
With sunrise, heat enveloped the room like a roaring fireplace. Adelei chose another tunic and breeches of thin, white silk to wear and winced at the sight of it. White. Why did it have to be white? It was too easy to stain and made her a moving target. Her fingers lingered on the black clothing in her travel bag.
She pulled the tunic over her head and tucked the ends into the waist of her breeches. A cloth belt wrapped around her waist, and two more around the sleeves of her tunic. Adelei kicked at the air, testing the tight fabric’s movement. Not as flexible as the Order’s gear, but it would have to do.
Her black riding boots marred the outfit’s appearance, but she didn’t have the room in her travel bags for color coordination. Outside her door was the promised guard, awake and alert. He twitched when he saw her, but Adelei ignored him as she stepped foot outside. She stifled a laugh when he scrambled to catch up to her.
“Is there something you need?” he asked. He leapt in front of her, his boot kicking hers. “Food,” she answered, sidestepping him to continue on her path. He accepted her comment for the moment and trotted along behind her. Like a giant puppy. A giant, annoying puppy. She grimaced as he tripped over a rock in the path. It was necessary, but there was nothing she hated more than being babysat.
The dining hall itself was larger on the inside than it looked and filled with dozens of benches and tables, each squeezed close together to maximize the available space. The sun having risen hours before, the dining hall lay mostly empty.
Adelei was used to small spaces, but she didn’t relish the idea of being packed in among so many who hated or feared her and was thankful most were already gone. She’d have to get used to it if she would be in the capital city for this job, especially if she were dining with the royal family.
She would rather move around unnoticed, but that would be difficult in such crowds. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time. A few people lounged, plates mostly empty as they chatted while savoring what few crumbs remained.
A table as long as the wall lay in front of her. No servers stood near the table, not that she’d expected any. Most garrisons were of the self-serve variety. Closer inspection showed typical military grade food—good tasting only if one didn’t pay serious attention to what one was eating. And safe enough not to give a soldier the trots.
Her stomach rumbled audibly, and she picked a few pieces of rabbit out at random before adding some dried fruit and bread to her plate. It would all taste the damned same anyhow. Her mouth watered just the same. While not picky on the food, she did choose her seat carefully—far enough away from those who remained to be left alone, yet close enough to invite conversation if one were so inclined.
Their conversation ceased as she took her seat, and two left the dining hall before her backside hit the wooden stool beneath her. Of the two remaining, the woman flicked a crumb across the table. Her history and familiarity with combat was written across her body by way of scars and old wounds, while the man seemed as green as the rest of the soldiers she’d seen.
After a moment, he, too, found reason to flee the hall, leaving the two women alone. The Alexandrian was old enough to be Adelei’s mother, and her hair held more grey than black. Amazing that she’s survived this long. Don’t see many her age still in this line of work.
Adelei tore off a hunk of bread. The silence was now covered by the sounds of chewing and interrupted only by the occasional clank of a cutting knife. When the sound ceased, a shadow moved across the floor and then across her food. Without looking up, she nodded at the table. “Have a seat,” she said between bites.
Several minutes passed before a choked, bitter voice broke the silence. “So you’re a member of the Order.”
It was a statement rather than a question. “No,” she said, and at the woman’s raised brow, she added, “Former.” I don’t know why I’m being honest with her—maybe because she’s not running away scared.
“Former? No such thing. Like a guard. Once a guard, always a guard.”
Adelei waited for the warrior to continue and chewed a hunk of rabbit with the purposeful slowness of a slug. The warrior wore the same standard blue tunic and pants as the men in the garrison and the same leather mail over the top, but the insignia at her collarbone was unlike any Adelei knew from her studies. The two horizontal circles overlapped to create a sideways eight. Some kind of dignitary? Special service to the King maybe?
The words interrupted Adelei’s thoughts and were achingly slow, as if the act of speech caused the warrior pain. “Killed a lot of people in my time.”
Adelei leaned closer to her meal, and thus closer to the warrior woman. A thin scar ran horizontally across the warrior’s throat, from ear to ear. How she had survived a wound like that, only the Gods knew.
“Never seen an assassin as young as you. The name’s Ida. Captain Ida Warhammer, Sepier to the King.” Strong fingers stretched out to shake Adelei’s own, the first genuine greeting she’d received.
Sepier? Nothing popped in her Alexandrian vocabulary or Sadain. “Ili—Adelei of Sadai.” The moment the beginning of the name spilled out, she cursed under her breath. It’d slipped out of her mouth like it was natural to call herself such. Damned country. One day inside the border, and she was already making every rookie mistake she had made at twelve.
Ida rose to fetch herself another drink, and Adelei suppressed a whistle. The woman was tall enough to stare at the top of Master Bredych’s bald head, and he was quite imposing with his six-foot lithe frame. When Ida returned, she claimed a seat much closer to Adelei with a thump. “How’d ya get into the Order so young? Kill someone in the cradle?” Ida let loose a hearty laugh and sloshed her watered down ale when she slapped the table.
; “Not quite. I was raised by a member of the Order.”
Ida nodded. “Ah, that explains it. Makes sense, I say. Get ’em young and train ’em is the best way to ensure they’re good at their job, eh? Unlike here, where I’m surrounded by the greenest grass.”
It was Adelei’s turn to laugh. “What’s the story with that? I’d figure a kingdom like Alexander would’ve secured better troops in the years since the war.”
“Know about that, do ya?” Ida took a sip of her drink, her fingers subconsciously rubbing her throat.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the story behind that old wound?”
The veteran’s eyes grew moist, something contrary to her rugged exterior. “How much do ya know about the Little War of Three, youngin’?”
“Just the basics. The Kingdom of Shad wished to renegotiate borders with Alexander. King Leon of Alexander refused, and Shad set out to engulf the land and claim it by force. The war lasted three years, nearly destroying both countries in the process, until the Boahim Senate forced a peace treaty upon both lands. At the cost of Princess Margaret’s hand in marriage, I assume.”
The last sentence left a sour taste in Adelei’s mouth. Any father who’d sell out his daughter like that deserved to be king of nothing. At least Master Bredych was honest in his killing. My father—she frowned at the words—kills through treaties, slavery, and human sales.
Ida laughed again and slapped a hand on the wooden table. “Good. I’m glad ya know what you’re getting into then. Playin' this body double’s going to be tricky work.”
Adelei stared at the woman. The soldiers would be told she was heading for the capital. It was a matter of security for them to know, and all in all, not a huge surprise. But to know the details of the job was different.
She stood, her feet halfway to the door before she registered the bulk of Ida’s square shoulders blocking her path. Not many people could move with the speed and silence of an Amaskan. That Ida had done just that and had done so without Adelei’s knowledge was not only impressive, it was dangerous. “Let me pass,” Adelei hissed.