Tales from the Front (Air Awakens Bonus #1) (4 page)

“Who, exactly, will go?” Brion was made bold by Ric’s questioning.

“Someone who will fly like the wind.”

Tiberum Solaris, Emperor, conqueror, sat completely vexed as to what his next move was going to be. There were a few things that bothered him above all others: insubordination, loss of control, and anything that called into question his authority. Vhalla Yarl was all three personified and given a power that she barely comprehended the depth of, to top it all off.

He rubbed his temples in frustration. It was becoming more appealing by the day to outright kill her. It was well within his right.
No
, the Emperor left his tent, needing to stretch his legs. He would avoid killing her at all costs. The future of his campaigns depended on her. He’d invested too much in her now to find another.
But she was certainly making it appealing.
There was only so far he could be pushed.

The camp was a shoddy setup, but he’d seen worse. He’d lived through worse. Tiberum folded his hands at the small of his back, gripping them tightly, and started for a tent with two guards posted on either side.

“Just the woman I was looking for,” he spoke as Elecia Ci’Dan emerged. It spared him going in and facing the weakness that festered under the camouflaged canvas. He’d always expected so much better of Aldrik.

Two emerald eyes faltered in surprise under his pressing gaze. Elecia Ci’Dan made herself out to be a Western princess in her mind and he would never allow that sort of thinking to flourish in his presence. Especially now, not after he suspected her involvement in the Windwalker’s flight. She was making a dangerous choice in where she stood and he would make sure she knew it.

“Report,” Tiberum demanded.

“No change.” The girl looked askance in a cheap display of servitude, but it
was
servitude.

“How much longer can you maintain?”

“I need more medicine, other skilled clerics, I could provide you a list,” she answered stubbornly. Her demand was thinly veiled and the Emperor could hardly believe that she’d have the audacity to harp upon it now of all times.

“Have you not already provided a list?” The Emperor took a step forward and dropped his voice so only the girl could hear. The flash of panic in her emerald eyes confirmed everything. “Was it just you and the Windwalker conspiring?”

Elecia’s eyes darted toward a group of sorcerers.
Reale
, the Emperor thought as he followed her stare,
he should have known she would be involved
. The woman was practically a zealot for those with magic. Tiberum would not tolerate loyalty to anything beyond him and his Empire. Variables that compromised absolute power were kindling, and revolutions sparked too easily.
She’d need to be removed
.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord.” Elecia looked at him defiantly.
Let the girl have her defiance for now
, she’d told him everything he needed to know.

“I think you do.” Tiberum relished in her momentary panic. She would learn her lesson from this before the day was out. “For you were part of the council that supported the idea of my sending the Windwalker.”

“
What?
”

“This is what you will tell the soldiers, when they ask where their
hero
– ” he bit out the word, “ – has gone.”

Compared to most, Jax liked unpredictability. Change was the natural order of things. Mountains gave way to the sea, kings rose and fell, people who were there one moment were gone the next… Yes,
yes
, change meant the world continued around him even if he could no longer continue with it.

He rummaged through the pile of clothes, stripped from the dead, humming over options. The girl was as thin as a stick. Gangly and awkwardly proportioned. Jax had no doubt that when she cleaned up her beauty would be like that of a strong spiced liquor. Kept certain men, perhaps
a
certain man, drinking despite being what traditional logic would define as being “unpleasant”.
An acquired taste, perhaps
.

“Eri-berry, how long are you going to stand there?” Jax didn’t even turn, he threw a second pair of trousers over his arm to consider.

“Do you actually have eyes in the back of your head?” Erion asked from where he leaned against the post supporting the lean-to that kept the supplies moderately dry. Well, nothing was ever really dry in the jungle.

“Why do you think I wear my hair in a bun? It helps hide them so people don’t freak out even more when they see me,” Jax quipped.

“You are pretty terrifying,” Erion jestingly agreed.

There was a long pause and Jax finally gave his brother-in-arms his attention. The wind rustled the canvas walls of the structure, sending dust swirling between them.

“Who is she?”

Ah, now there was the question,
did Jax answer honestly?
Even if he lied, he knew Erion would have his rightful suspicions. Elecia’s voice echoed in Jax’s head, speaking in time to the note she had sent along with her list of supplies. Supplies that were now being sent. Supplies that Jax hoped would make it in time to save the life of a man Jax considered to be his mentor, role model, and brother.

“Serien Leral, just a soldier.” The Windwalker was hunted and Jax had to defer to the highest ranking nobility on this. And, as much as Erion’s Le’Dan blood would protest, that was Elecia Ci’Dan.

“Oh? Just a soldier, huh? And I’m the Lord of the West.” Erion rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I can tell when someone is lying?”

Jax knew Eron’s question was asked to both the Windwalker and himself. Vhalla Yarl didn’t make a very convincing Westerner with her brown eyes and Cyven accent.

“I saw Elecia’s writing on those notes.”

Jax’s hand plastered over his pocket, making sure that he hadn’t accidently left the explanation of who Serien Leral really was in the Camp Palace.

“The girl carries Elecia’s word on Aldrik, but not the Emperor’s. She comes alone. She asks for you directly. Not Zerian who was left foremost in charge.” Erion could be as relentless as a hound on blood. “Brother, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“You know I can’t.”

Erion threw up his arms in frustration at Jax’s insistence. “Says who? Clearly not the Emperor or Baldair as we’ve not had a letter from either in well over a week.”

They’d arrived at the line Erion would always toe against. The point where he could no longer understand nor tolerate what was the daily truth of Jax’s existence. Baldair did a well enough job of crafting the illusion of freedom. But, that was all it was, an illusion.

“Until I have orders from one of them, I must oblige the closest nobility to the crown.”

“You’re so impossible.” Erion pushed away from the post he’d been leaning against, starting back for camp.

Jax dropped the clothes he’d been holding, grabbing the swordsman’s wrist. Erion stopped.

“You know the truth.” Erion’s expression gave Jax all the affirmation he needed. “You know who she is. You know why she’s here. You know why I can’t tell you. Just from the information you’ve pieced together, from the Emperor’s and Aldrik’s descriptions. You know.”

His fellow Westerner gave a small nod.

“So, help me protect her.”

“Danny.” The toe of a boot nudged his shoulder. “Danny, you have the next watch.”

Daniel rolled over, pulling himself from a hazy sleep. Raylynn stood over him, haggard. Her long blonde hair was plated in a braid that it was determined to fall out of. It was a hard march when they had resorted to the Golden Guard leading all the watches. But there had been too many mistakes and those mistakes had led to death. And if there was one thing Baldair didn’t tolerate, it was his men needlessly dying.

He stood and stretched. Raylynn was eager to leave his side the moment that she saw he was up. The other woman wasted no time in finding her place curled against Baldair. If Daniel didn’t know them so well, he would’ve assumed there was something more than a casual understanding between the two.

The rope bridge creaked softly as he traversed it between the tree hut the Golden Guard had bedded down in and the next closest structure. Deserted Northern towns like this would make excellent safe havens if their enemy didn’t come as often from the trees as they did from the ground. So even though their legion had pulled up or burned all ladders, they still needed patrol.

A familiar Southerner rounded the corner of the building he was headed toward, starting on the rope bridge from the other direction. Daniel raised his hand in greeting and Craig did the same.

“Took over for Raylynn?” His friend asked when he was close enough to whisper. Daniel nodded in affirmation and Craig continued, “I think she swindled you out of some time.”

“It wouldn’t shock me if she did.” Daniel surveyed the hazy forest around them. In the early morning it was almost peaceful. But he knew better. Peace was an illusion crafted by war when it was courting death.

Raylynn was a good soldier.
No, she was a protégé of weaponry
. It was small wonder that Baldair appreciated the woman on a multitude of levels. But her natural aptitude with killing tools made her lazy and she was the first to be missing from patrols or drills.

“You don’t seem too upset.” Craig had lingered long enough that Daniel knew his friend had something more to be said, so he shrugged and waited for him to say it. “Are you still thinking about the dopple’s death?”

Daniel sighed, there wasn’t any point in denying it. “She didn’t need to die.”

“Neither did Sam, or Jon, or Celeste.” Craig clasped a palm over Daniel’s shoulder and shook him gently. “Good people die needlessly; it’s not like you to linger.”

Daniel nodded half-heartedly.

“You saw her, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“In the dopple, you saw Vhalla Yarl.” Craig’s hand slipped from Daniel’s person.

“I worry about her.” It wasn’t a secret fact, especially not to Craig, so it was surprising how difficult it was to say aloud. “If our doppelganger died then who knows what’s happened to her.”

“If there’s one woman I don’t think you need to worry about, it’s Vhalla Yarl, the girl can take care of herself.” Craig threw an arm around Daniel’s shoulders, giving him an encouraging shake. It was a lighthearted motion that contrasted starkly with his shift in verbal tone. “Plus, she has someone worrying enough for her already.”

“I’ve told you it’s not – “

“Oh come on.” Craig rolled his eyes. “The feelings are not like that for her, but they are for
you,
and you’re going to get yourself in trouble with this one.”

“I’d never make it something she didn’t want it to be herself,” Daniel said defensively. If Erion and Jax began warning him as much as the rest of the Golden Guard did about Vhalla he was in for a long winter. How could he be expected to sort out his feelings for anyone ever again if his romantic life was being decided by committee?

“Are you sure you haven’t already?” Craig held up his hands defensively at Daniel’s look. “I mean on your end.”

“I have rounds to do,” Daniel muttered.

“Brother.” Craig stopped him. “The girl is surrounded by fire. You’re setting yourself up to get burned.”