Alina had to quirk an eyebrow at this claim. Old fables spoke of spirits who would look into a person’s heart and punish them for wrong-doing, but she figured the tales were purely fictional to scare children into obedience. “How so?”
Nin picked at the hem of her plain skirt. The fabric frayed at the edges. “It’s hard to explain. I suppose it’s like how a seer experiences so many different types of visions.” Alina remembered seeing the Warrior standing in the markets, how she had not even realized she looked at a phantom, compared to the sickening experience her most recent vision had been. “I look at people and I see different things inside them,” Nin said. “I saw the souls of those Warriors today bleed out like ink on a page. One read heat, two earth, and one water. All were well-intentioned individuals.”
Alina nodded, staring past the stone floor. “They were...intriguing.” Thinking of the woman with the emerald eyes made her face flush.
“It’s more than that, though,” said Nin. “Their souls pulsed and radiated with such greatness. They are important to you, your Highness, whoever these Warriors are.”
“You see greatness in people’s souls?” Alina stood from the wash tub and strode around the room.
“I see a person’s capacity for good or evil,” said Nin. “It usually shines brightest when surrounded by others important in implementing that good or evil.”
Alina stopped by the countertop and thrummed her fingers on the surface. “I guess that makes sense.” In reality, it sounded insane, but she could not argue, not after experiencing a vision of all things. She thought back to earlier that day, when Demek had kissed her hand. “Why did you pull me away from Lord Demek? Does it have to do with his intentions?”
Nin stared at the opposite wall. Alina knew the woman was deep in thought. When Nin spoke, her voice sounded far away, “It does, I think. His inner intentions are smothered, but it’s not like a criminal’s soul, or a person’s soul that has malicious intent. It’s more like a void.” Nin closed her eyes. Her head dropped. “It’s like something has been removed, most of the time, anyways. Sometimes I see a flicker of what most people should look like, but I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Is it like he’s dead?” Alina asked.
“No, corrupted,” said Nin. “Empty and...rotten. It moves through him and tries to latch onto others. For this reason, I do not think you should spend time with him. You should know how temperamental fate can be.”
“Have you seen this sort of thing before? I mean, a void where a person’s intentions should be doesn’t sound common.”
“Only once,” Nin said. She stood from the counter and smoothed out her skirts. “I saw the same emptiness in one of the visiting delegates from the western kingdom. But it is still not quite the same as Lord Demek. They don’t...flicker like he does. He is different for some reason. But when I look at you, your soul speaks of nothing but good intentions. It shines brighter than any of the feeble politicians in that Council.” Nin smiled sadly. “This is why you must trust me, your Highness. My service to you is in service to all of the people of Osota.”
The words weighed heavy on Alina. The maid’s admission only troubled her more. Alina closed her eyes and saw flashes of her recent vision, a warning perhaps? “I need you to get me all the information you can on these people and their kingdom.” She opened her eyes and looked at Nin. The maid stared back for a long time before saying anything.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Nin asked.
Alina smiled and opened the washroom door. “I will tell you more once I’m sure what fears are logical and which are ungrounded. We can plot a course of action from there.”
Nin curtseyed before exiting the washroom. “Yes, your Highness,” she said, adopting her simple manner once more. Alina followed after and shut the door. She felt odd about the exchange. She had bartered her information carefully, like a trader of secrets. Apparently, she had learned a few nasty habits from the Council. She groaned and lay down on her bed. The day stretched far too long behind her already.
Chapter Four
SENRI DID NOT LIKE her first night in the barracks. Whenever she tried to sleep, she found herself missing the distinct noises from her village. Instead of crickets and the bleating of cattle, the rustling of others surrounded her, shifting, sneezing, coughing. And when Senri did manage to tune out those sounds, her mind kept her awake with images of the young woman from the fields, the supposed heir to the throne as Yahn had guessed.
The woman had stared at Senri with eyes so wide and confused, as if Senri were an apparition. After the woman left, Nat had nudged Senri and said, “Stunned her with your good looks, eh?”
In the morning, Lanan tugged the sheets off Senri to wake her. She kept her eyes closed until Lanan shook her and sang songs of lusty women in a loud, piercing voice: “I once knew Lady Madrigal, who invited me to peek under her shawl, so I went for a glance, and she took off my pants—”
Senri winced and sat up. “I’m awake, alright? Now stop before I have it stuck in my head!”
Lanan laughed and stepped back. “Then get ready. We have barely enough time to eat before you’re dragged away for training.”
Senri’s body ached when she stood, her legs heavy. She squinted against the early morning light creeping through the windows, then groaned and slumped over to her chest of clothes. The lid felt too heavy against her fingers. Lanan opened it for her. Senri pulled out a fresh shirt and trousers.
“Will I need my armor?” she asked.
Lanan nodded. She already piled her own leather and plates on a bed. Senri collected her uniform and they dressed in silence. Lanan hummed to herself as she prepared. Senri rubbed her eyes and pulled the fresh shirt over her head. She walked over to the basin tucked in the corner of their room and splashed cold water on her face. The shock helped a little, though her eyelids still felt heavy and her fingers slipped over the buckles of her armor.
Lanan arched an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”
Senri nodded around a yawn.
“You don’t look like you slept.”
“I didn’t,” said Senri. She finished pulling on the rest of her armor and took one last look through her trunk of possessions. She found the small sun gem and held it up to the light, smiling at the way it sparkled before returning it to her chest.
“Why? You have nothing to be nervous about,” said Lanan.
Senri ignored the question. The other Warrior finished pulling on her own armor. Senri buckled on her sword. “I suppose I’m not used to the noise.”
They left the room, taking a corridor to a large hall where the meals were served. The other soldiers and Warriors crowded the room. The noise of people talking and eating created a steady din. Senri followed Lanan to a table piled with food. She reached for a loaf of bread and tore off a chunk for herself. Lanan reached for an apple. The two ate quietly until Nat sat down across from them with a large thud.
“Good morning!” he said. Senri grunted. He looked thrilled to be there in his shining new armor.
“Morning,” said Lanan.
“What’s wrong?” Nat asked. He grabbed a pile of grapes.
“She didn’t sleep,” said Lanan.
“Oh,” he said. Senri looked up and Nat winked at her. “Getting into trouble with the locals already?” Senri looked away. Nat laughed.
“Wait, I thought you said it was the noise,” said Lanan. Senri stared down at her food with intense concentration. Lanan nudged her. “Could it be there’s someone on your mind?”
“Oh, let me guess who it is!” Nat stood up and bumped the table, causing some grapes to roll away from his pile. Senri crossed her arms and buried her face in them. Nat always teased her about being infatuated with someone—well, Vella mostly—whenever presented with the chance. “It is probably that girl who served you dinner last night. Am I right?” Nat asked.
“Who says I was up all night thinking about someone?” Senri mumbled.
“Senri.” Nat slammed
his palms on the table. “I’ve known you forever. You cannot exist without pining after someone.”
“Well, I must have been pining after home, then.” Senri lifted her head and grabbed some of the stray fruit.
“That’s normal enough,” said Yahn. He sat down and pulled Nat back into his seat. “It takes a bit to adjust for most people.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Nat. He corralled his loose food back onto his plate.
Yahn smiled. “You might miss home more after training. If you thought your village trainer had you on a tight schedule, you won’t be too pleased with your new one.”
Nat popped a grape into his mouth. “Who said I was complaining about the schedule? No, it was excellent there. Lots of space, time to do as I please. But there’s only so much one can tolerate of the same fifty people for the duration of your existence.” He took a bite out of a peach and chewed. “I like to think of this as a change in scenery, a positive one despite the cost to my freedom.”
Senri saw an opening to shift the topic and took it. “By the way, how do we know our schedule?”
Yahn waved the question away. “We’ve been given orders. Lanan will escort you to your mentor. I’ll take city-boy. They’ll construct a training regimen from there.”
Senri sipped some water. “Easy enough.”
“When you work with your mentor, make sure to give it your all the first time,” said Lanan. “You won’t get a lighter workload if they think you’re incompetent.”
“Why would I even hold back in the first place?” asked Senri. The two senior Warriors shrugged.
“Newcomers get these strange ideas sometimes,” said Lanan. “It never ends well. And besides, we’ve grown fond of you.” She reached out and ruffled Senri’s hair. Senri jerked away and smoothed down her locks carefully.
“Watch what you do there,” said Nat. “You wouldn’t want to ruin her looks in front of all the other recruits.” He grinned even as Senri chucked an empty bowl at him.
Yahn shook his head and gulped down some water. “The two of you will be too busy to get involved with anyone.”
“He’s not serious,” said Senri. “He only acts like sex is the only thing on his mind—”
“Which most of the time it is,” Nat added.
Senri ignored him. “He gets like this when he is nervous or excited.”
“How charming,” said Lanan. “Coping with crude humor.”
Nat shrugged and finished off the fruit. “There are worse ways.” He brushed unruly dark curls away from his forehead.
The four of them finished eating and exited the hall. Outside, the sun barely moved over the horizon, casting the grounds in a dim pallor. Yahn and Nat said their goodbyes and departed. Lanan took Senri over to a gate that led out to an open field, walled off from the other areas. The grass had bald patches in certain areas. Some parts of the ground even looked singed. “So is this where all the heat readers train?”
“They start out here,” Lanan replied. They walked toward a small group of Warriors standing near the middle of the field. They mingled with one another in loose formation. Senri hoped this meant she had arrived on time.
“War Master Graus!” called Lanan. She waved at an older man standing separated from the pack. He nodded at her. Lanan placed a hand on Senri’s back and nudged her forward. “I have the latest new recruit for you, Senri.”
She gave a firmer nudge and Senri stumbled forward. She regained her footing and immediately bowed, afraid to look in the eye someone addressed as War Master. “It is an honor, sir,” she said, her weight pressing into one knee as she kneeled.
Her new instructor circled her. The other recruits shuffled around, waiting. A couple whispered. Finally, he said “Rise, Senri.”
She did. Her new master stood in front of her, his face sagged and wrinkled, yet somehow still displaying a strong, healthy look. A fire burned in his eyes and his limbs looked taut even when draped in armor. He calculated his every move. No energy wasted. He held her gaze, challenging her with faded ones. Finally, he nodded. “You seem to have a good head on your shoulders. Let’s hope the rest of you is in line with your manners.” He turned to Lanan and nodded. “You may go now.” Senri faced forward as her friend left, trying to remember the small amount of Warrior etiquette she had been taught in her village. It had been a minimal learning experience.
“Rank up,” ordered Graus. The fellow Warriors shuffled into lines, but Senri stayed where she stood. The master studied the lines, then her. “Pelman, move back a row. Senri, take his position for now. If you prove to have a good arm, I might move you to the front. We will be learning unit tactics first, then individual skills.”
Senri glanced behind and a space opened at the end of the second line. She fell into rank next to the others, readjusting the sword at her side partly to remind herself it still rested there. Her hands, sweaty, slipped over the pommel. Their village instructor had also glossed over the group tactics. They had not seen a use of it with so few soldiers and such a small space to defend.
“We shall start with unit movement,” said Graus. “If you all can move without tripping over one another, we might try something a bit more complex. I know some of you might be tired of this drill.” He looked to the older recruits. Senri glanced at the men on either side of her—boys really. They looked unsettled as well. Perhaps she was not so far behind on her training then. “I want you to advance ten steps forward and keep the same formation. This box shape is mostly useless to standard combat, but it will lay the foundation to more complex, necessary formations. March!”
At his order, Senri stepped in line with the boys next to her, trying to measure her distance and keep rhythm. Someone bumped into her from behind. She ended up taking an extra step. At the end, everyone had to jostle themselves into the original place.
Graus smiled at them. “Not completely terrible. But you would be scattered in seconds in a real-life combat situation. Shall we try again?”
Everyone mumbled assent and moved back into position. It would be a long, long day.
***
“Your Highness.”
Alina glanced up from the history text. Nin had reentered her chambers after eluding her all morning. “Yes?” she asked, marking the page in her book and setting it aside.
“I come bearing you a gift,” Nin said.
“What kind of gift?” Alina furrowed her brow. “If it’s another dress, I will throw you over the balcony like I did to the flowers I received this morning.” Alina had spent most of the day keeping away worried dignitaries no doubt spurred on by Lord Demek gossiping about her ‘illness.’ She could barely mask her fury at their empty sympathy. The gifts had almost sent her over the edge.
“No, Highness,” said Nin. “Actually, I did spend most of the morning abating fears and preventing the Council from sending a healer to examine you. But that is not my gift.”
Alina settled back into her plush armchair. She had never seen Nin so pleased. “Go on,” she said.
“Remember when you requested information on the Shedol nation yesterday?”.
“Did you find some dusty old text Demek forgot to burn when plotting his evil scheme?”
Nin laughed. “Oh, no, Highness. Wouldn’t that be convenient? Actually, I simply went down to the foreign dignitary wing and contacted the diplomat whose nation neighbors Shedol.”
“You crafty girl,” said Alina. She rose from the armchair. “Did you bring them with? I wish to speak to this person immediately.”
“No, Highness,” said Nin. “You must not be seen directly receiving dignitaries. You will have much more freedom if the Council perceives your behavior as passive.”
“Oh.” She looked at her history text to hide her disappointed frown. “Then when do I see them?”
“I’ve arranged a day of horseback riding for you, Highness,” Nin said. “And Lady Vorica from the kingdom Noshon has graciously volunteered to give you lessons.”
Alina smiled. “Then
we shall begin preparations for a day of riding.” Nin pulled out Alina’s new riding skirts and helped her get ready. Alina mused over the sheer tact her maid possessed, too much to be a simple servant, as yesterday’s confession had revealed. The clothes hugged Alina’s body well. At least she had not gotten rid of all her gifts, this one from Orwall. She remembered liking him as a child, and suspected his gifts might come from some deeper well of concern. The alterations to her clothes seemed perfect, but as soon as Nin pulled the new shirt over Alina’s head she knew they had a problem. Alina checked her appearance in the mirror and noticed the faded veins peeking over the rim of the collar.
“Someone will see this,” she said, pulling the collar down.
Nin looked up from pulling at stray threads and furrowed her brow. “Oh yes, I almost forgot.” She set aside the clothes and went to Alina’s dresser. Opening a drawer, she tossed a few objects aside until she found something. She lifted a small jar. “This should do it.”
“What should do it?” Alina asked as Nin removed the cap. A skin-tone ointment lay inside.
Nin scooped some onto her fingers. “Noblewomen use this to hide blemishes.” She approached Alina and pulled down the collar to her shirt more. “Hold still.” Carefully, Nin rubbed the ointment into Alina’s skin. It felt cold and slick, but dried quickly once Nin rubbed it in. She finished quickly and added a layer of powder to finish the disguise. “This should work,” she said, pulling the collar into place. “Just avoid sudden movements until it dries.”
Alina put a hand on Nin’s. “Thank you. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Nin paused as she replaced the cap on the jar. “Not all want to see you fail.”
They took a less crowded route to the stables. Nin must have sent word ahead, because their horses were ready when they arrived. “Your Highness,” said the guard on duty. He covered his heart and nodded.
“Good day,” she replied.
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