“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Fort Commander Aldric yelled, his voice rising almost to a scream in pitch.


    Quinten stared over the commander’s shoulder at the metal shield hung on the wall for decoration. His complexion turning a shade of red that would have concerned Quinten had spittle not been collecting on his cheek.


    The Northreach Light Cavalry unit’s return from battle was a complex affair. The men of the Army and mages of the core celebrating their victory while mourning the losses they’d received.


    Arriving at Northreach, cheering soldiers called to them from the ramparts. With Crowds of well-wishers waiting for them inside the walls with jugs of cool ale and wine, ready to toast their to their success. The messenger Quinten sent ahead seemed to have spread the news of their win far and wide on his way to the Fort Commander’s office.


    Quinten would have to find and compensate the man well.


    From Star’s back, Quinten found the triage center was already in place off to one side. With the wounded getting sorted based on severity. Ronan’s thin figure jumped from patient to patient. The golden glow of his Gift stabilizing those who needed help to make it the rest of the way to the Healer’s Ward. Riding over, Quinten dismounted. He went to hand the reins off to an excited stable boy when Declan slid in front of them with a scowl that sent the boy backtracking. He dropped the expression, winking at Quinten as he took Starbrite’s reins.


    “Welcome back, m’lord! Congratulations on your victory.”


    The corner of Quinten''s mouth tugged up at the boy’s antics, but he managed to keep the rest of his face professional.


    “Thank you, Declan. I need to see to my men. Please let your sister know that Star may need some babying for the next day or two. I had to push her harder than I like to.”


    With a bow or his head, Declan was all business. “Yes, m’lord. Is there anything else you need from me?”


    Sighing, Quinten looked down at his gore soaked armor and the clothing underneath. “Once you’re done with her, can you lay out a fresh set of clothes? I expect I’ll be meeting with the Fort Commander shortly.”


    He never did get the chance to rinse off the filth of the battlefield. A runner arrived before Quinten finished at the triage area, bearing a letter from Commander Aldric, demanding that he present himself immediately.


    “We defeated a superior force on the field of battle, commander.” Quinten answered.


    Anger and indignation crashed against his mental shields, a whirlpool of sensation as the fuming commander circled him, the man’s raging emotions leaving him too amped up to remain in one place.


    “Yes,” the man admitted begrudgingly. “Your small victory may have bloodied their noses, but your activities leading up to it may have cost us the war.”


    How, by the falling stars of night, did he come to that conclusion?


    “I want you out of my fortress. I don’t care who your grandfather is or if they start calling you the champion of the bloody fucking plains. You will not leave the fort unless it is with orders in hand.” Turning, Commander Aldric glared at the room’s other occupant. “I may not have the authority to punish him myself, but expect to see him charged with disobeying orders.”


    Captain Leduc raised an eyebrow. “Which orders are you referring to? Did you explicitly tell him not to? I know I did no such thing.” She crossed one leg over the other, the flash of a pale ankle showing from under her brown robes as she reclining into her seat with a relaxed poise that Quinten wished he felt, instead of the bone-deep weariness that had him desperate for rest.


    “As far as I can tell,” She continued, “There are no grounds to charge him with anything, regardless of what he may have done on his own initiative. He fulfilled his responsibilities to his unit and this fort.” A Cheshire smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as her eyes narrowed. “Was it not you who, only a few nights ago, lauded the success of the cavalry and reduced reports of enemy raids over the last two weeks?”


    Quinten breathed an internal sigh of relief. It was one thing to be told someone would support you, and another to witness them keeping their word. He wasn’t sure how the confinement to the fort would play out in the end, but he was happy to know he wouldn’t be placed in chains for dereliction of duty, or stars above, mutiny or treason.


    Based on the color of red Commander Aldric’s face had achieved, Quinten wouldn’t have put it past the man to try, anyway.


    I may need to be a bit more careful until I leave.


    The man’s hands opened and closed into tight fists several times while he stared at the Captain. After several long moments of silence, he returned to his original target. “Men and women died under your command today. Since you will not be leaving Northreach on patrol, I want you to be the one to tally the total number of casualties and process their Death Notes. The other Lt. of NRLC will be busy covering your absence in the rotation.” A flash of something cruel crossed his face and he continued. “Until they can be replaced that is. They could not have been ignorant of your efforts in building a wall and chose not to report it. That is not the loyalty the Rivennan Army needs filling its ranks.”


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Quinten must have let something of his irritation show, because Aldric’s face shifted minutely, a hint of pleasure bleeding through.


    Gritting his teeth, he asked. “Permission to be excused?”


    The Fort Commander opened his mouth to deny the request, the self-satisfied gleam in the man’s eye given away his intent. Thankfully, Captain Leduc’s approval cut him off, her voice filling the office like the crack of a whip.


    Quinten saluted and turned on his heel, marching toward the door. He pulled it open and paused. “Thirty,” he said without turning around.


    “Thirty?” Aldric asked, confusion battling with the irritation in his voice. “Thirty, what?”


    “The casualty number you requested—it’s thirty—thirty men and women died today.”


    *****


    The door shut behind the dirty and visibly weary lieutenant, its latch clicking into place, audible in the silence left in the young man’s wake.


    Fort Commander Aldric stood in the center of the room, glaring at the closed door. Whirling around, he pointed a finger as Captain Leduc, his mustache twitching from side to side in anger.


    “You did this to me!”


    Sighing, she rose to her feet with a roll of her eyes. “No one did anything to you, Jensen.” She crossed the room, stopping before the open window. The inner keep visible below, the people filling it, figures until she touched on her own gift to make out their features.


    Jenson scoffed, and glassware rattled the sound of liquid pouring a moment later. “You know how this will make me look. My stance on a wall is well known. Everyone will know this was done without my approval. They’ll think I can’t control my own men.”


    He’s not your man, he’s mine. Captain Leduc thought, watching the crimson-toned light reflecting off of Lt. Ashford’s armor as he crossed the open courtyard below. The cheers of those present who recognized him loud enough to reach her on the fifth floor even without boosted hearing.


    “What’s done is done. One section of the wall is almost complete. You’ve already seen its impact. Central Command is going to demand that we finish it. Then they’ll likely order all of our resources to continue building more.” Turning away from the window, her interest now no longer visible, she added with a regretful smile. “King Frederick was never going to consider you for the next Lord Marshal, Jenson. You bought your current title along with that wife of yours. That is not something the King, nor the Queen is going to overlook. Without the Gift, they will never forget you are common-born.”


    With a heavy swallow from his glass, Jenson sat on the corner of his desk, his head lowered. “I hope you know what you’re doing. There is no stopping this now. Today’s battle is only the first stone to fall, but it is going to trigger more and before you know it, the whole mountainside could come tumbling down.”


    “Good thing we’re on the plains.” Captain Leduc said, heading for the door. Stopping with her palm gripping its handle, she said. “The bloodied plains. I like that. It’s a good name for the battle that started the war in earnest.”


    *****


    Southbend


    Skyrunner Headquarters


    “Let’s go, let’s go—off your ass, bird boy! Priority mission from Command.”


    The pounding at Cedric’s door had him rolling out of bed before he was fully aware. He hit the floor with a loud oomph, pushing himself to his feet groggily. He started blindly pulling on clothes until his Gift shifted his vision enough to see in the pitch black room.


    Bang, bang, bang!


    “People are dying while you do your hair. Hurry it up!” Captain Lianna Vivir yelled through the door, her volume rattling it in its frame.


    Exiting into the hall, he tripped, inches from crashing face first into the wall opposite his room. Captain Vivir leaned out of the way, her arms crossed and frowning at his disheveled appearance.


    “You look like shit. Is this the message you want to send to our soldiers when they see you? Go brush your teeth, your breath offends me.”


    Cedric glared at the woman and made no attempt to hide his irritation, but he did as she said, stalking through his room and into the tiny closet they jokingly called an attached bathroom. Captain Vivir followed him in with no concern for decorum.


    It had been this way since he’d arrived a month earlier. She’d show up at random times—usually those most inconvenient—and have him drill for an emergency assignment. Then she’d pull him away from whatever he’d been doing for training.


    He’d be hating both life and his new assignment, if his ability to fly wasn’t improving so quickly.


    “You’re getting quicker. I might make a Skyrunner out of you yet.”


    Splashing water on his face, Cedric grunted while drying his face. Tossing the damp cloth on a pile of dirty clothes that the launderers would grab later. He looked down at his mentor. “What fresh torture do you have planned for me today?”


    She sucked her teeth in a way she knew he hated, returning his glower with a smile and a sparkle in her eye.


    “No training today. Pack your shit. We’re being relocated. I guess things are heating up and we’re all getting sent north.”


    Cedric frowned, his lips pursing. “Why would they send all the Skyrunners to the same place? Doesn’t that—defeat our purpose?”


    Captain Vivir stared at him for a long moment. Shutting her eyes slowly, she shook her head, mumbling to herself.


    “You poor, innocent child. I’m not talking about just our unit. We are all being mobilized and sent north, the entire south. Some nutty Lt. decided to take on a Drakovian force that outnumbered him three to one. They are saying he killed them to a man and raised a wall formed out of their bones.” ” She made to leave, tossing one more insult over her shoulder. “Just so we’re clear, I’d trade you for him—even knowing he’s insane.”


    Cedric stared after the woman, her boots clicking on the wooden planks as she made her way down the hallway. A month in her presence, and he still couldn’t tell she was joking. Either way, it wasn’t important to him right then. The news she delivered making much more of an impact than her parting barb.


    Well, you’ve really outdone yourself this time, Q. What in the Star-cursed night have you gotten yourself into?