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“As we discussed before, the tribesmen ensconced in Bawold are using a traditional concoction that increases their ferocity in battle and likely prevents them from experiencing pain, at least for a time,” said Rennus. “One man who has imbibed this drink will fight like three men, which is what has neutralized the general’s advantage.” His eyes darted to Linna, subtle enough that Linna wasn’t sure if the Empress had noticed. “If we send someone to infiltrate Bawold and poison their brew, we can retake the town without lifting a single sword.”

“Yes, you suggested this to me before,” the Empress said. “The way I recall it, I told you to find someone capable of that mission.”

“With all due respect, Empress, I did suggest someone to you. Someone standing in this room right now.”

The Empress slammed her fist on the table, hard enough that the two wooden blocks representing Alric’s troops and the Commanders both toppled over. “Gods-be-damned, gentlemen! You fight against me at every turn, both of you! I tell you we must go north, you claim south is the only option. I tell you to turn left, and you argue that we should turn right. What’s next? Will you try to convince me the sky is red instead of blue? Mother Moon.” She pressed her fingers to the place between her eyebrows, as if trying to smooth away the creases of her anger. Closing her eyes, she said, “We are taking Pellon in two weeks, before the next snowstorm can maroon us. Between the two of you, figure out how to take Bawold – and do not provide me with a solution that I have already explicitly told you I do not approve of. Go. You’re both dismiss–”

“Empress, I can do it,” Linna said.

The other three inhabitants of the tent all turned to her at once. General Ambrose and the Empress both looked shocked, as if stunned Linna would speak at all. Brother Rennus, though, looked as though he’d expected this all along, and a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“I can do it,” Linna repeated. “I can sneak in while they sleep – tonight – with the poison,” she said, words coming out in a frantic rush. “I’ll add it to the potion, leave, and be back in camp before morning. And then – then General Ambrose’s troops can muster for another assault, but the mountain men will all take the potion, and they’ll die before they open the gates of Bawold. And we can go to Pellon without five hundred tribesmen nipping at our heels.” Linna hesitated. They hadn’t interrupted, but they were all still staring at her, and her cheeks were beginning to burn under the heat of their attention. “Let me help, Empress,” she finished. “Please.”

Finally, the men took their eyes off Linna and put them on the Empress. But the Empress still stared at Linna.

Several seconds went by. Outside the tent, the wind started up again, whistling through the camp like a foreboding omen.

“Brother Rennus, General Ambrose, you’re dismissed,” the Empress said at last. She didn’t take her eyes off Linna, even as the men bowed and made their exit. Only when they were gone did the Empress speak. “In the time that you have known Commander Joslyn,” the Empress said slowly, “have you ever once seen her contradict me in front of others?”

There was a cold anger brewing in the Empress, but Linna was determined to stand her ground this time. She wouldn’t be sent back to Port Lorsin without fighting for the right to stay. She wouldn’t.

“No, ma’am, but –”

“When does the Commander express her opinion?”

Linna’s confidence faltered. The Empress wasn’t angry at her for what she’d said; she was angry because of how and when Linna had chosen to say it. “She waits until you are alone.”

“That’s right. She waits. Because she knows better than to undermine my authority in front of my subordinates, even if she thinks I’m wrong.” The Empress sighed, some of her anger seeming to dissipate. She picked up the wooden blocks that had fallen onto the map and placed them upright again, fingers lingering a moment longer on the block that represented the Commander’s position. “I am exhausted, Linna. Exhausted. Every move I make seems to invite five new problems, and the men supposedly loyal to me as their liege question every decision.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They’d probably question when and how I use my chamberpot, if they were here to see me do it.” The Empress pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, one hand going to her belly. “Meanwhile, there’s a life growing inside me. A life I’m responsible for, a life I have to protect with my own. Some mornings, I wake up and I can’t even comprehend how it all happened so fast. A year and a half ago, I was just a spoiled, idiotic girl. A spoiled idiot who had to become a woman and an Empress and a wife all at the same time. Now a mother, too. This baby, Linna, this baby will have to wear a crown one day. Will inherit whatever world I leave for her. Or him. And do you know what I keep thinking?”

Linna swallowed, not really sure if the Empress expected her to answer or not. But the Empress was staring at her. Waiting. So Linna shook her head.

“I keep thinking, ‘Mothers protect their children from the monsters that hide under beds and in wardrobes.’ My mother did that for me.” Her eyes grew distant while she rubbed her belly absently, and she smiled to herself. Her gaze came back to Linna. “But the monsters that hide under beds and inside wardrobes, they don’t really exist. So what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t protect my baby from a real monster?” This time, the question was rhetorical, and the Empress didn’t wait for an answer from Linna. “I’ve been dreaming about him, Linna.”

“Who?”

“The King of Persopos. At least that’s who I assume it is,” said the Empress. “The deathless king, the one the Order of Targhan assassin spoke about before she died. Her king has been dreamwalking into my mind at night. Taunting me. Daring me to come to Persopos alone, to face him.”

The news was concerning. Alarming, even. Linna wondered how long it had been happening, and if the Commander knew. “Empress, you can’t…”

“No, I know. I wouldn’t face him alone, Linna,” the Empress said. Her smile came back, ironic this time. “I might be a spoiled idiot, but even I know better than to face a monster by myself.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “I trust you, Linna. And I believe in you. One day, you will be every bit as capable as Joslyn is. But until that day, it is my duty to protect you, to stand between you and the monsters. I don’t know what’s coming, but I know I don’t want you to be here when it arrives. I want you in Port Lorsin, not in Bawold. Alright? Can you understand that?”

Linna deflated, along with her determination to defy her Empress. Even as the words formed in her mouth, she hated herself for being nothing but the Empress’s obedient little servant girl.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I understand.”

“Your Highness!” barked a voice from the tent’s entrance. “Permission to enter!”

“Permission granted,” the Empress called back.

One of the guards stationed at the tent flap stepped inside, his mustache and beard speckled white with snow. A soldier followed him inside, skinny and haggard-looking, with bags beneath his eyes so heavy they looked like purple bruises. Linna was almost positive he had not eaten or slept in several days. He kneeled before the Empress until she told him to rise.

“Sergeant Yevin,” she said. “Your timing is immaculate, as always. What news from Pellon?”

“Your Majesty,” Yevin said. He pulled off his helm, then the thick wool cap beneath it, revealing stringy black hair that hung to his shoulders. “I-I don’t know how to explain this, but… well, Pellon is, it’s, it –”

“Out with it, soldier.”

“Pellon’s abandoned, Majesty. There’s no one inside.”


Tags: Eliza Andrews Fantasy