Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The chilly air bit through her cloak, and her breath steamed in the quiet as Iryana made her way up the tower and to the wall walk.
It was early, even for her. It would be hours before the sky began to lighten, most of the soldiers passed out or on duty. Vaneshta was snoring loudly back in their room, sprawled over her bed.
Walking slowly and deliberately past the soldiers on guard, Iryana mumbled her good mornings and other casual things she’d heard the soldiers say to one another. Their eyes tracked her with surprise and confusion.
She’d asked if she was allowed to leave the post, and while initiates were usually not allowed for safety reasons, she’d been given a tentative pass since she went on missions beyond the wall. She just had to stay nearby, in the heavily-patrolled areas.
“Morning, Sen,” she said to the next man she passed.
“Can’t sleep?” an older, blond soldier with short-cropped hair asked, leaning against part of the wall.
Iryana forced a slight smile. “Oh, no. I already slept. I like to rise early.” It was almost the truth. She had gotten a bit of sleep in before Vaneshta stumbled back to their room.
“Hard to break that guardian training,” he teased, though his voice wasn’t entirely unkind.
He was probably bored out of his mind watching from the walls all night; any diversion, even a brief chat with the outcast guardian initiate might be welcome.
“Gives me a chance to help out.” Iryana held up the fishing pole she carried. “Figured it would look good if I brought the kitchen some extra fish.”
“What an ass kisser.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, a bit. Plus I like a morning run through the trees.”
He laughed. “The dakii tend to be quiet this time of morning, so it’s a good time to go.”
“Exactly. Well, wish me luck with my ass kissing,” she said awkwardly, adjusting her fishing pole.
He chuckled, but nodded and turned back to the abandoned city beyond the wall.
She breathed a sigh of relief and started walking again. Everything in the fort looked so small from up there.
She made it all the way across the wall, greeting all the soldiers or having short conversations like she had with the older, blond soldier.
Making sure they all saw her and knew her excuse for leaving.
She would fish along the Myura River and, just like she claimed, bring back some fish.
She’d bring something back every morning.
Eventually, once they were used to her moving around in the early hours, she could try sneaking out as soon as Vaneshta came back to the room, let them think she’d left at the usual time but didn’t see her, then have most of the night to meet her sister when needed.
It would give her the space to breathe outside the fort, time to regain some of her sanity.
After crossing the rope bridge, Iryana paused on the wooden platform, looking back toward the fort.
Fitting in with the soldiers of the 18th was supposed to involve earning their respect by taking on the dakii and doing her assigned tasks. Simple, straightforward, and, while difficult, doable. Yet it felt like she was constantly undoing her progress by being unable to make anyone like her.
And gods was it suffocating.
Her feelings about her family were complicated, love and fear and shame and resentment all bundled together in a knot of unease deep in her gut. But the 18th? Her feelings were simple. They were thugs that took advantage of people, her people. So why wasn’t pretending around them easier?
Iryana had never thought herself an emotional person; she was practical. Able to put what she wanted deep in the cellar of her mind and focus on the task at hand. And her memories didn’t haunt her around the fort like they did at the Dovaki Post.
Running her hand over some pine needles, the hint of sap sticking to her hand, Iryana took a deep breath. She knew she needed to be getting closer to the soldiers on her team, but it felt harder every day. It was a lot easier pushing people away than trying to pull them close.
She didn’t have a solution, so she could only do what she knew best: ignore her doubts and focus on the task at hand.
Abandoning the perch, Iryana started climbing down the tree, pushing her worries deeper down with each branch beneath her palm.
Iryana followed near the rear of the group with Mezhimar, struggling to hear the sounds of the forest over the others’ footsteps. The path they followed had once been a road, winding through the trees, but now it was largely overgrown.
Winter’s snow had mostly melted other than some darkly shaded spots, and Spring was finally winning against the cold.
Green grasses crawling out from under the snow, larches growing new yellow-green needles, and early bloomers like the Istrin squill revealing their deep blue petals.
It would grow harder to see far through the trees as the forests warmed, but at least the dakii’s fur wouldn't blend into the snow.
It had been fairly calm for their march so far, which surprised her given her family wasn’t allowed anywhere near this part of the valley; it was deemed too dangerous. She supposed danger was gauged differently with a team of young metal-forged.
“When are we going to be back on more interesting missions?” Vabihn groaned up ahead. He was usually in high spirits with his wide grin and easy jokes, but now he walked with a slouch and looked slightly petulant.
Iryana ignored him, but she felt his frustration too.
This was the third mission she’d gone on with her new team and they’d all been level one missions, as they called them. Casual, with little to no danger expected. They had mostly patrolled well-scouted areas, not running into a single beast. Easier missions while she got adjusted to the team.
She’d been at the fort for nine days, which wasn’t that long if she was being reasonable, but she was impatient to prove herself. To do that, she needed more challenging missions. She hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to Karvek either.
At least she had her moments of open air and freedom in the mornings when she slipped away. When the restraints on her lungs finally eased, and she could breathe fully again. Feel her muscles relax. She lived for those moments.
“Just accept the break,” Shahn chastised, having to crane his neck to look at Vabihn over the small horse-drawn cart between them.
“We normally get the exciting jobs,” Vabihn continued to grumble. Iryana could hear the captain’s chuckle.
The cart hadn’t changed how they marched much.
Shahn and Vabihn walked on either side of the covered cart, which moved at the center of their normal patrol formation.
Their scout, Pepha, moved silently somewhere ahead of them, sending calls back to Captain Darish.
The captain and Vaneshta walked ahead of the cart, ready to form their beast spears.
Iryana followed behind the cart with her bow, but further back was Mezhimar, operating as the rear-guard.
“We never want to take on a mission we’re not ready for,” Vaneshta said plainly. “Dangerous missions won’t be exciting, even for you, if we get ourselves killed.”
“Yes, Sena.” But Vabihn continued grumbling under his breath. “At least it gives my wife some relief from her worrying about the guardian getting us killed.”
“We’ll tell her what to do as we go until she knows all the protocols,” the captain reminded them, as if Iryana wasn’t there. “We aren’t going to coddle her. You’ll have your fun.”
The captain had told her little so far, besides where to walk and in what direction to shoot.
She’d expected him to challenge her, but he seemed content to ignore her as much as possible.
She didn’t want to be coddled, and the type of fun Vabihn seemed to like was just what she’d need to prove herself.
“Besides, there are plenty of dangerous missions to go around,” Captain Darish laughed. “Isn’t that right, little Mezho?”
The captain spoke to their rear-guard like he was a close friend or little brother, but his tone was mocking.
Iryana glanced back to where Mezhimar walked. He was quiet, even more so than Iryana, mumbling his agreement. She still couldn’t tell if he was timid or just complacent. Either way, it was easy to forget he was there despite his height.
The group walked quietly for a few hundred paces after that, until Iryana noticed Vaneshta falling back.
Vaneshta slowed until she was walking besides Iryana.
She was wearing a mismatched set of armor, pieces that clearly had not been intended to be worn together.
The breastplate was leather-wrapped metal and marked with a sigil she didn’t recognize.
Probably some lord’s, from back when such things mattered.
Iryana tensed, hoping this wasn’t another interrogation.
“Have you ever seen one of the water settlement villages?” Vaneshta asked.
That was apparently the mission: going around some of the settlements whose protection money was due.
Only larger posts and groups had liaisons there to handle affairs with the brigade, while the others got visits.
The small, horse-drawn cart at the center of the group carried goods they were supposed to trade on their visit as well.
Iryana tried not to think about any of it.
But she simply answered, “I haven’t been past the Yuresh valley since I was six.”
Hadima had been to a water well temple, and while Iryana had been at the main house at the time, she had been far too much of an outcast to have heard any stories. Pilgrimages were meant to be secretive, anyways.
“Well, it’s cool.” Vaneshta hovered for a minute, the silence drawing out awkwardly.
Then Iryana remembered the question she had been putting off asking for over a week.
“What rank wears a black belt?” She had noticed a few others around the fort with the same kind of belt as Pyetar, but after the night in the hall, it felt strange to ask about it.
“Ah. They’re technically not officers. The black belt means they’re a specialist.”