Chapter 19 #4
“Are you bothering one of my soldiers, Gintar?”
Iryana sucked in a surprised breath, looking over to see Pyetar stalking toward them.
His eyes were dark and shadowed, his brown hair more disheveled than usual—almost wild.
He wore training armor, with a bit of sweat on his brow, like he had stopped in the middle of sparring to come.
Sometimes she forgot how tall Pyetar was, how broad his shoulders were, until she saw him like this, posturing for a fight.
Vaneshta trailed behind him, and Iryana realized her roommate hadn’t abandoned her. Vaneshta had gone to fetch backup.
Relief filled her, and not just because Pyetar was there.
Gintar tensed slightly, but he wore an easy smile as he stood straight behind her and answered, “Just looking to fill up my team. Thought I might take this little guardian off your hands.”
“My soldiers aren’t up for grabs.”
“This is just the hierarchy, Pyetar,” he held his hands out demonstratively. “If I want one of your soldiers, I can have them.”
Pyetar laughed as he rounded the table, a dark chuckle that earned nervous glances from other tables. From soldiers who knew better than to cross Pyetar.
“You really think you outrank me? Because, what? You’ve been a captain longer?
I’m a Horvol, and my brother just claimed our legacy.
” Pyetar took two large steps toward Gintar, pushing him back away from Iryana.
“The general is the only one who commands me, and my brother has always liked my more violent side.”
If Iryana hadn’t known how opposed Pyetar was to his brother, she would never have guessed it from the way he spoke. He played the part of Karvek’s dog well.
Gintar took a voluntary step back at that, glancing at Voor like he was reconsidering his choices.
Iryana twisted in her seat so she could watch them better. She looked back at Pyetar, at the dangerous look in his eye.
“If you like her so much, feel free to keep her,” Gintar said as if he didn’t care in the slightest, like it was a favor he was doing for Pyetar.
Iryana thought that would be it, but then Pyetar seized Gintar, dragging him close. As if he were the size of a child and not a full-grown man built to fight monsters.
“I will warn you once.” Pyetar’s voice was harsh, deeper than usual. “You so much as talk to, let alone touch, any soldier on one of my teams, and I will crush your skull in. Understood?”
Gintar nodded, face paling, and Pyetar released him. Then he strode into the middle of the room, and Iryana couldn’t tear her eyes away.
She was not the only one staring.
“This brigade belongs to the Horvols, to my brother,” he roared. “Mess with what’s ours, and you will not live to regret it.”
And all this from the man who wanted nothing to do with leadership, with his brother’s command.
Iryana took a shaky breath, but tried to reason with herself.
It wasn’t like he was defending her personally; it was the entire team he’d claimed and declared untouchable.
But it still left her feeling like the debt she owed him had grown, and she could only imagine what favor he would call in for it.
Iryana walked across the fort, spine stiff as she looked around for her team.
She wore a loose linen tunic under her gambeson, her headscarf and the herb bundles in her pockets working to ward off the summer bugs.
The dry, warming days of the Honey Moon were growing longer, and soon night would be little more than twilight.
Things had been… difficult since the encounter in the estate. No one had directly messed with them, but there was an undercurrent of aggression. Small things like their stuff going missing, getting tripped, not being protected in the formations on missions. More eyes than ever were watching them.
Pyetar may have protected them, but he’d also put a target on their backs. Labeled them as unable to fend for themselves.
Iryana was more determined than ever to win Vaneshta over, to earn more than the tentative peace between them. If she did, maybe the others would follow. They’d be stronger than ever, and she’d have a better chance of lasting long enough to be admitted fully to the 18th.
For all that she’d done, all the plans he’d spoken of, Karvek had been much too busy securing his power as general to so much as talk to her. It grated on her.
Her birthday had passed; she was twenty now. A birthday was meant to be a day spent with loved ones, a day to ask for a boon from someone close. Hers came and went like any other day. Just like it had since she turned sixteen.
The only progress had been Captain Antar pulling her aside with some of the older initiates to measure her magic and degree of control. Based on his findings, the skills she’d shown in training, and her captain’s recommendations, she’d been approved to forge both a bow and spear.
If she was ever accepted and forged, that is.
Tugging her headscarf loose where it criss-crossed over her neck, Iryana slipped through the open gate toward the barracks.
She made it a single step into the training yard before having to jump back as a partially armored woman nearly fell into her. The soldier righted herself and wiped at her bleeding nose, smearing red across her cheek, and smiled at Iryana. Then she launched back at her opponent.
Iryana wouldn’t call what they were doing sparring. They were just trying to hurt each other. But that seemed to be how the new soldiers trained.
There was a large crowd in the center of the barracks yard, and Iryana started moving around it, trying to avoid whatever was going on, until she heard Vaneshta’s voice.
What had she gotten herself into now?
Elbowing her way to the front, Iryana found Vaneshta standing between Captain Gintar and Pepha.
“I was just offering to spar with her.” The captain raised a brow, looking around Vaneshta at Pepha.
Pepha was shaking like a willow in the wind.
Iryana knew what these soldiers would think when they looked at Pepha.
Cowardly, useless, and weak. But while Pepha was a bit of a coward when it came to other soldiers, she was also an incredibly talented scout.
Iryana had seen her pounce on a dakya from the trees, digging her forged knives into its neck and killing it before her feet even touched the ground.
But around people…
Vaneshta laughed, and Iryana narrowed her eyes. There was something different about her roommate that afternoon. Her eyes were wilder, her chin tipped down as she openly mocked the captain.
“Don’t you worry about us; we’re the first team for a reason.”
“Please, Pyetar had to go out of his way to shield you.” Gintar moved around the circle, as if trying to pass around Vaneshta to get to Pepha. “The team rankings will be corrected in no time.”
“You think your team is stronger than ours?” Vaneshta moved to cut him off.
Iryana frowned, clenching her fist. What was she doing?
“Oh, I know it. We all know it.” He raised his hands, and the surrounding soldiers cheered, mostly newcomers.
“I think we all know Pyetar could take you.” She shrugged. “That would be boring. But what about me? You think you could take me?”
Gintar stepped up to her, all lean muscles and that cruel twisting smile. Vaneshta was a foot shorter than him, not as obviously muscled, but she tilted her head back to meet his grin with one of her own.
“You are young, soft.” He sneered. “I don’t think you’re even worth the effort. It’d be over too fast.”
“Then how about this, Captain,” she said, pronouncing captain like it was an insult. “You and me. Right now. No forgings, fists only.”
Gods, Iryana groaned internally. Was her best ally in this place about to get herself killed?