CHAPTER 10 TYCHO
TYCHO
The sun is barely peeking over the horizon when we gather to ride out of Ironrose, streaking the sky with shades of lavender and pink.
Malin already said he would choose Sephran, so I’m not surprised when the soldier shows up in a fresh tunic with full armor, riding a dark gray gelding that stands at least a hand taller than Mercy— which sets him a good eight inches taller than me.
It doesn’t matter, and I definitely shouldn’t care, but I find it annoying anyway.
He and Malin arrive in the courtyard together, and their expressions are jovial .
. . until Sephran’s eyes fall on me. Then his expression cools, and he barely gives me a nod.
Fine. I have no idea what his problem is, but after my time in Syhl Shallow, I have a long history of working with soldiers who don’t like me. I can just add him to the list.
I thought Malin might choose Kutter as the last member of our small unit, because I’ve heard enough stories about him, too.
Then again, before Malin’s promotion, Kutter actually outranked him.
So maybe I shouldn’t be surprised when an unfamiliar young man arrives with a light bay mare, no rank or insignia on his sleeves.
“This is Leo,” Malin says to me. “He’s a recruit.”
Leo draws his horse to a perfect halt, then offers me a salute.
“At ease,” I say, but I inwardly sigh. Leo looks younger than I am, and there’s a brightness in his eyes that tells me he’s never seen any real trouble. We already have Jax along, and despite Rhen’s encouragement, I have no idea if he’s ultimately going to be an asset or a liability.
“Second year?” I say to Leo.
“First year. Sir.”
Silver hell. I give Malin a look.
He shrugs. “You were young once, too,” he says. “Oh, wait— you’re still—”
“All right,” I snap, but his teasing breaks through my tension to make me smile.
He grins in response. Despite everything, I’m glad Malin is coming. He was able to keep any edge out of the air when we traveled with the king, so maybe he’ll be able to do the same thing when it comes to me and Jax.
Then Jax rides into the courtyard, and the sight of him steals every thought from my head.
I recognize the horse, because I remember the first night I introduced Jax to Teddy.
He seemed so surprised— and a little intimidated— at the prospect of learning to ride.
But now he sits in the saddle with a casual confidence, like he’s been riding all his life.
I’m not used to seeing him armed, but he’s got a dagger on his hip, and a bow strung across his back, a quiver buckled to the saddle behind his thigh.
He’s in armor, too, and it looks as new as mine: fresh black leather, gleaming silver buckles.
No gold and red, because he’s not an Emberish soldier— but no green either.
He wears it all well enough that anyone will think twice before starting trouble, especially since the gear broadens his frame, making him take up more space in the world than I remember.
It’s not just the weapons and armor, though. It’s . . . it’s him.
Beside me, Malin clears his throat very deliberately.
The sound gives me a jolt, and I realize I was staring, my mouth hanging half- open. I jerk my head around to glare at Malin, and his grin widens.
If we were alone, I’d smile sheepishly in return, but Sephran is watching me, too, his expression almost glacial.
I grit my teeth, glad I can fall back on training and discipline. I wasn’t an officer in the Queen’s Army for long, but I’ve been at Grey’s side for years. I know how to keep emotion off my face and focus on the task at hand.
“We’ll head northwest toward Wildthorne Valley,” I say. I glance at the lightening sky. “We should make it to the river by dusk, and we’ll camp there.” I glance at Malin. “Captain, take point. Set the pace.” I shift my gaze to Leo. “Recruit, you’re outrider.”
Responding to my tone, Malin draws up his reins, and Leo salutes me again. Even Sephran has shifted his horse to follow the formation I’ve set. Any icy tension has disappeared from the air. They’re all soldiers, used to following orders regardless of what’s going on.
But Jax isn’t. He’s glancing between them, a small line appearing between his eyebrows.
I frown, realizing I gave the orders in Emberish, and despite the way he snapped at me in the forge, it’s clear he didn’t understand all of that.
“Do you need me to repeat it?” I say to him in Syssalah.
The instant I say it, I regret it. My voice was sharp, the words clipped like an order.
Jax’s eyes widen, and then his expression turns as cool as Sephran’ s— and likely as cool as mine.
“No,” he says, drawing up his own reins.
I inhale tightly, wanting to undo this. I didn’t mean for that to come out as a challenge, but I’m still too stirred up.
But the others are already moving away, obeying.
In the absence of a direct order, I think Sephran might take flank, riding beside Malin, since they’re friends.
Instead, he draws close to Jax as they ride out, and he’s speaking low.
“Look,” he says, pointing ahead. “Malin— point. First. Leader. Yes?”
Jax is nodding, his expression easing as he puts the words together.
Sephran gestures toward the younger soldier, off to the side.
“Leo— outrider. He . . . ah . . . rides out.” He sounds slightly abashed, but what strikes me is that his voice is so patient— and somewhat gentle.
After his clipped tone with me, it takes me by surprise.
He taps under his eye, then makes a circular gesture out in front of us.
“Sentry?” he says to Jax, glancing over. “Lookout?”
Jax’s eyes light up with sudden comprehension. “Outrider. I understand.”
Seeing their easy rapport makes me realize this must be a common interaction for them, and my heart gives a tug. Doesn’t Jax know that I would’ve explained these things, too? I would’ve given him the words. I can also be patient and gentle.
But maybe I was gone too long. Maybe he’s forgotten.
Maybe I’ve picked too many fights. Maybe I’ve proven the exact opposite.
Ahead of us, Malin kicks his horse into a canter, following my order, setting the pace.
So I draw up Mercy’s reins to follow, realizing they’re about to leave me behind.
The sky is clear for miles as we canter across the fields of Emberfall.
If nothing else, a scraver won’t be able to sneak up on us from the air.
Malin’s been driving a hard pace, and I’m glad.
We’re going too fast for much conversation, so I can lock all my complicated thoughts in my head and focus on the mission.
But Jax is right there, and it’s killing me. After the first hour, I call for a swap with Leo, taking outrider, just because Jax’s closeness is like riding too close to the sun. I’m so aware of his presence it’s almost painful.
But if I thought distance would help, I was wrong.
I should be watching for trouble, but my eyes keep drifting back to the group, back to him.
He’s grown into a steady rider, his hands soft on the reins, such a difference from the way he used to gasp and clutch at the reins when I first put him on Mercy.
Silhouetted in the distance, he could be just another soldier, identical to the rest of our group, but I can still see the tendrils of hair that the wind keeps tugging free, and his more casual bearing that separates him from the men with military training.
My heart can pick him out every time I look over.
Do you need me to repeat it?
Silver hell, I sounded like such an ass.
I should apologize, but I’m not sure how— or when. Since we’re camping, we won’t have a moment of privacy later.
Before I left Ironrose the first time, I told him that when I got back, we’d ride out to Silvermoon and spend the night under the stars. Tonight, we might be under the stars, but it’s going to be an empty riverbed, not a bustling marketplace, and we’re not going to be alone.
Just another promise I can’t keep, I suppose.
I finally look away from the group and let my eyes search the landscape. We don’t need to get slaughtered by an ambush while I’m mooning over Jax.
But this part of Emberfall is endless acres of open fields and tilled land, interspersed by the occasional dirt road.
No scravers, few travelers, nothing to occupy my thoughts.
Eventually the terrain grows a bit hilly, with forests and tree lines and plenty of shadows to grab my focus.
But even then, Malin’s competence works against me, and we reach the river when there’s still a bit of light in the sky.
I sigh, returning to the group. We tether the horses along the tree line, then set about making camp.
It’s clear the rapport between Sephran and Jax extends to Leo, because they build a fire and set a pot of water to boil with the kind of effortless efficiency that only exists among friends.
I can’t help but watch as I silently strip Mercy’s gear.
Jax might’ve learned a lot of Emberish, but it’s obvious that the others have learned a bit of Syssalah, too.
Their conversation is a weird mix of both.
An arrow whacks me across the arm, too hard to be entirely friendly. I whip my head around. “Ow. Malin, what the—”
“Come on.” He whacks me again. “Let’s find dinner.”
I scowl, but I turn to follow. We stride through the brush, moving away from the fire and the low rumble of conversation, shifting into the darkness like ghosts. We slip between the trees wordlessly, our eyes searching the shadows for prey.
Malin doesn’t speak, but I know from experience that he’ll be silent as an assassin until one of us puts an arrow into something.
Within minutes, we hear a rustle, and I nock an arrow on the string of my bow.
We wait, and eventually a shadow shifts between the trees ahead.
Maybe some elk, though they tend to stick to open fields.
Deer, most likely, though it seems too small.