by T. A. White
“Pure dumb luck we made it this far,” Perry admitted. “One of the scouts you sent happened to have a little knowledge of the area, which allowed us to make it far enough to find a defensible position.”
“Oh?” Fallen asked.
“Damnedest thing,” Perry said. “Evidently the creatures can’t see worth shit. They rely on their nose. If you can fool it, you can sneak past them.”
“Didn’t seem to help you here,” Caden said, looking at the fallen.
“If it hadn’t been for those berries, we would have made our stand much sooner. Probably would have all died too. We wouldn’t have stood a chance without decent cover at our back. Whoever you send to get rid of these beasts should be warned. It might prevent death.”
“Agreed. Write up your observations, and I’ll send them along with my orders. Darius can pass it to his men.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Tend to your men and give them the news we’re staying the night,” Fallon ordered in dismissal.
Perry nodded once more.
Caden waited until he was out of hearing distance to say, “This pack was much larger than reports indicated.”
“Yes.”
“Much larger.”
Fallon grunted.
“These men are lucky your ghost woman made her escape. If she hadn’t disappeared, we would have lingered in camp and been too late rendezvousing with them.”
“Yes. That is one way of looking at it.”
Caden took in the carnage. “This gives me a bad feeling. You think there might be a traitor in our midst?”
Fallon didn’t answer as he watched the men drag the revenants’ dead bodies off into the trees.
His silence was answer enough.
“Well. Shit,” Caden said. “That’ll make things difficult.”
A ghost of a smile crossed Fallon’s face.
His attention caught on a slim figure lurking by the horses. It was the boy he’d pulled a revenant off of in the battle. He was a tiny thing but brave as fuck.
Fallon had seen him tangle with that monster, sure the boy was dead before he hit the ground. Somehow he’d managed to survive and was in the process of killing the beast when Fallon guided his hand in the deathblow.
Something about the boy was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. His coloring said he wasn’t Trateri. Lowlander, maybe? He’d never seen a Lowlander with hair so oddly colored. It was a matted black and stuck straight up from his head in clumps.
He was a scrawny thing with barely anything to him. If Fallon hadn’t seen his bravery in battle first hand, he would have had his trainers defending their reasons for putting someone like that in one of his best units.
The boy noticed him and froze, his eyes going wide and slightly panicked before he abruptly headed for the big man directing several soldiers.
Hm. Definitely a Lowlander.
Ah, well. Maybe he was familiar because Fallon had conquered his village or something.
Dismissing the boy from his mind, Fallon joined Perry and his second in command to discuss plans for the morning.
Shea glued herself to Eamon’s side and kept her head down.
That was close. She shouldn’t have panicked like that when she found Fallon’s eyes on her. She might as well have put a sign on her that said “guilty party here.”
She needed to act like one of the guys and that meant not acting like a squirrelly Daisy who had never set foot outside the fence.
When nobody pulled her out of the group, she relaxed slightly. The first meeting with anybody new was always the worst. Once they accepted she was a guy, they never thought to look deeper.
It looked like her luck still held.
Eamon finished giving his orders to the men.
Shea quickly fell behind him. “What do you need from me?”
“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?”
She paused. “I wasn’t aware that I’d ever stopped.”
He gave her a stony look.
She wished she could achieve that level of withering scorn and disappointment with just a look.
“What?”
“You’ve been acting like a little bitch since I bandaged you up.”
“You call that bandaging? More like a mauling,” Shea muttered.
“I let you get away with your little tantrum,” Eamon continued, not responding to her comment. “You’re Lowlander. You don’t know better, and normally you’re a damn good scout. However, you’re Trateri now, and I’m you’re superior. Word of warning, you’d better sort yourself out and straighten up, or this life is going to get a whole lot more difficult for you.”
Shea listened, stunned and a little more than insulted. She had not thrown a temper tantrum. She didn’t even think she’d thrown them at the age where they were considered the normal behavior for children.
This was the most she’d heard Eamon speak, except maybe when he was ripping her a new one right after the fight. She didn’t know what had set him off this time.
“All I asked is if you needed me to do something,” she said in her defense. She hadn’t even copped an attitude. She even made sure her face was perfectly neutral. She knew better than to challenge someone’s authority like that.
Eamon’s anger took on a near physical intensity.
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”
She did too. Though, nobody had ever complained about the non-challenging way she had of challenging someone. After all, everything she did was in line with the correct behavior of a junior addressing a senior.
She gave him a confused expression and frowned as if she was thinking hard. “I have no idea. I was just trying to do my job.”
The air got even tenser.
Perhaps pushing him wasn’t the best idea.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Forget it. Buck, keep the Daisy busy and out from under foot.”
Eamon turned his back on her and moved away.
Shea stared after him, a little baffled. That was it? After that scolding, that’s all he had. She was expecting more.
“Sometimes, kid, you’re really not too bright,” Buck said, shaking his head. “It’s pretty amazing given how smart you are in other things.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Buck peered down at her, studying, weighing. One corner of his lips tightened. “Yeah, you do. But whatever, if you want to make life harder on yourself, that’s your business. For now, go help Perry’s men set up tents.”
Mentally shrugging at his dismissal, Shea moved off to help the others. Clark gave her a small smile when she grabbed the other end of the pole he was trying to lift.
“Clark,” Eamon called. “Grab one of the horse’s the Hawkvale brought and saddle up. We’re going to do a brief recon of the immediate area.”
Clark shot her a quick, concerned glance before hurrying away without a word. Shea pretended not to hear as Eamon called for Sam and Flint as well. She waited for her name to be called. She felt his eyes rest briefly on her.
“What about me?” Buck asked.
“Stay here. Keep an eye on things.”
There was a slight pause and then a murmured affirmative.
Shea worked steadily, not letting herself linger on one task for too long. She kept her head down and avoided meeting anybody’s eyes.
“Thanks a lot, Daisy,” Buck muttered as he bent to help her carry some of the kindling she was gathering for the fire pit.
Shea frowned after him. “It’s not my fault he left you behind.”
Buck dropped the kindling rather loudly next to the rest and walked back to the forest line. Shea trailed behind him.
“Someone had to stay behind and keep watch on your dumb ass.”
Shea was really getting tired of being called dumb. She’d had one brief moment in battle when she’d gotten lost in thought. Yes, it was admittedly not her smartest move. One that could have gotten her killed.
Regardless, she thought
she’d proven by this point that she wasn’t stupid. One unguarded moment shouldn’t undo all of the other times she’d come through for them.
“Eamon could have taken both of us along,” she pointed out coolly.
He barked a dry laugh. “Not likely. If he can’t trust you, he doesn’t have much use for you.”
Shea snorted. “What has he been doing all this time, then? It’s not like he knew me in the beginning, and yet I managed to get you guys to your rendezvous. Now all of a sudden my job depends on trust. That’s convenient.”
“You were an unknown entity then. Someone we didn’t trust or distrust, and if you recall, you didn’t get anywhere near a map until after the shadow beetles.”
He had a point there.
“A squad like ours is dependent on the bond of trust between every person on the team. When that bond is broken, it places everybody in danger.”
Shea had never trusted her companions. “None of you have ever made a mistake while in the field? I’m not proud that I lost focus out there, but it’s hardly a reason to imply I’m no longer dependable. The only person whose life I put in danger was my own.”
“Wrong. If you had fallen, Eamon would have broken the line trying to save you. I would have followed because he’s my comrade and friend. Clark might’ve followed because he worships Eamon. That’s three lives that would have been in danger due to your carelessness. Not to mention the others because we would have left a hole in their defenses.”
Shea hadn’t thought of it that way. She was so used to acting on her own and only being able to count on herself that she had never considered how her actions might impact others.
“Just now’s the first time you’ve even admitted that you might have been wrong. Instead, you shut all of us out and acted like a sulky, spoiled child. Making a mistake isn’t the problem; not owning up to it is. We don’t need someone who’s unable to acknowledge their flaws.”
Shea didn’t have a response for that and busied herself gathering the rest of the wood. Having said his piece, Buck stalked off taking his kindling with him.
After she gathered enough wood for several fires, Shea sought out another task and then another after that until night fell.
Shea didn’t want to admit that Buck might have been slightly correct in his assessment. It had been so long since she’d been accepted or trusted by the people she led, that at the first sign of criticism, she shut down.
Even when Eamon and the other three rode back into camp, she kept to herself. Taking her dinner and leaving the comfort of the firelight to eat in solitude in the darkness.
Perhaps it was best to end things here before she got more involved. She’d never been particularly good at relating to others. Seemed things hadn’t changed.
She should continue with her original plan and look for her chance to slip away.
That night, she fought the sense of piercing loneliness as she stared up at the millions of tiny lights dotting the sky. Rolling onto her side, she closed her eyes and told herself she was okay with things. She didn’t need to rely or be relied on by the people around her. Things were fine just the way they were.
The next day Shea kept away from Eamon and the others, helping Perry’s men pack up the camp and then slipping in with his men as they moved out. Eamon, Buck and the others fell in at the back of the convoy.
Clark appeared beside her not long after they were under way, chattering nonstop. Shea gave noncommittal grunts during pauses in the conversation.
She covered a yawn. She hadn’t gotten a very good night’s sleep, and her eyes stung from the lack of rest.
The third time she nearly cracked her jaw on a yawn, Clark handed her a peeled stick.
“What’s this?”
“It’s yarrow root.”
That meant nothing to Shea.
She shook her head at him.
He grinned. “So I finally know something you don’t. I’ll have to write this down so I can remember it always.”
“You haven’t known me long enough for that statement to have merit,” Shea told him.
“I feel like I’ve known you forever. I’ve got this feeling we’re going to be good friends for a long time to come,” he told her with a mischievous smile.
“Well, don’t you sound confident.”
“You’ll see,” he told her. “I’m never wrong about these kinds of things.”
“He’s right,” Eamon said, riding up behind her. “He’s got a knack. Said the same thing to me when he was no bigger than my hip. Haven’t been able to shake him since.”
“Ah.”
Shea didn’t know what to say to that. Given yesterday’s events, she couldn’t help the awkwardness she felt at his arrival. In the end she said nothing, letting Clark carry the conversation. She pulled slightly up on her horse’s reins intending to let the two ride ahead of her.
Eamon followed suit letting Clark pass. “We’ll catch up.”
Clark nodded and shot Shea a sympathetic look before touching his horse lightly in the side. It moved a little faster, jostling Clark in his seat as he caught up with someone he knew further down the line.
Eamon and Shea rode in silence for a bit. She glanced at Eamon from the corner of her eye. He looked relaxed. Not at all like they were at odds.
Maybe in his mind they weren’t. After all, why would a leader care if a subordinate was upset as long as that subordinate continued to follow orders?
“Shane, how long are you going to continue like this?”
Shea looked at him startled. “Continue like what?”
“This.” Eamon gestured between the two of them.
Shea didn’t know how to answer that. She thought she was being very civil.
Eamon sighed gustily. “You have to be the quietest Lowlander I’ve ever met. Usually you have to hit them upside the head to get them to shut up. With you, it’s the opposite. I feel like I have to knock you upside the head to get any words from you.”
Shea shot him an expressive look and guided her horse out of arms reach.
“Speak boy,” Eamon barked. “Quit giving me crazy eyes and speak your mind.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Something. Anything. How’m I supposed to trust you if I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours?”
There was that word again.
Forestalling her objection, Eamon said, “And don’t tell me there’s nothing. You’re too smart for that. And none of that damn politeness either.”
Argh.
What did he want from her? She just couldn’t win.
“What the hell do you want from me, Eamon? First you yell at me for not following orders and then when I do you’re on my ass for that too. I can’t win.”
“Finally,” he said. “We’re getting somewhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t talk to people.”
“I talk. I talk all the time.”
“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “You make statements and then act all butt hurt when people don’t do what they’re told.”
Shea couldn’t help the sneer of disbelief that crossed her face. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, yes you really do,” Buck told her, riding up on her other side.
What was this? Pick on Shea day.
She kicked her horse wanting away from the two ganging up on her. It didn’t work. They simply followed.
“You’re good at what you do,” Eamon continued, as if she wasn’t actively trying to run away. “Bright, observant. But you never take the time to explain. You just make a statement and then expect everybody to fall in line.”
Shea couldn’t believe she was hearing this.
“What am I supposed to do? Take the time to talk when people are walking into danger? They’ll be dead before I get through the first explanation.”
“Trust takes time,” Eamon said.
Aaannnd, they were back to this.
“
You can’t build a rapport overnight,” he continued, ignoring her small growl. “You want people to believe you? Well, you’ve got to start small. Explain why something is the way it is rather than just telling them what to do.”
“Take the shadow beetles, for instance,” Buck pointed out helpfully.
“I was right about those,” Shea snapped.
“Yes, but no one believed you when you said there was danger up ahead. What’s the point in being right if you can’t get anybody to listen?” Eamon said.
The point was that she was right, and they were wrong. If they’d listened, everybody would still be alive. They didn’t, so they were dead. Not her problem. She’d done her job.
Eamon, reading the look on her face, snorted. “It’s all very well to be right. I like being correct just as much as the next person, but one day you might regret not being able to get your point across. Your inability to influence your fellow soldiers might end up getting someone you care about killed.”
Wouldn’t be the first time.
Sensing that his words had struck a chord, Eamon said, “Think about it. You’re good at what you do, but you’d be better if you could relate to your fellow scouts. No one can survive alone out here.”
Putting those words in her head, Buck and Eamon peeled away from her and joined Clark up front.
Shea was left alone. Again. She was beginning to sense a theme.
She spent a good hour pissed at his criticism. He barely knew her but thought he could tell her everything that she was doing was wrong.
Ok, so her inability to relate to others or be remotely diplomatic wasn’t new. She’d had trouble fitting in with Highlanders and just about everybody else her entire life. At first it was because she was so young and had come from a very different background than most villagers. The guild, in many respects, was much more open minded than those living in the outlying communities. They were more accepting of a body’s differences. So few came for training anymore that anybody able to pass the tests found a place to belong.
Perhaps that’s why it had been so shocking when Shea reached her first post and found her skills casually dismissed by the male dominated society of the Highlands.
She could still remember the disaster of that first mission. She’d lost three men on a routine trade run over something that could have been prevented if they’d simply listened.