Chapter 9
JO
Fredrich spots him first, his low cuss grabbing my attention.
My eyes following his line of sight to the figure off in the distance.
Sam’s back is to us as he inspects the Strou hillside and I grumble my annoyance.
We’ve barely made it to the other side of the valley toward the Strou’s position and the light from the full moon reflects off his golden mane like a damn beacon to any Strou patrolling the higher terrain.
“Whistle to signal him,” Fredrich whispers. “He’s going to give away our location.”
I do so and Sam’s head whips in our direction a moment before he disappears, reappearing immediately in front of us.
The speech I’d prepared in case of this exact scenario dies on my tongue at the look on his face.
Anger like I’ve never seen before, or at least never directed at me.
He’s in plain clothes, having been woken by the soldiers tasked with keeping watch over me at night.
I’m not supposed to know about the guarded rotation, like most things put in place to appease my mother’s desire to protect me without making me feel smothered.
It never works, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Turn around right now,” he orders. His voice is level, at complete odds with the fury lining his features.
It takes me a moment to gather my words. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“You know the agreement, Jovinnia. You swore to Evelyn that you wouldn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger when you came to the border.”
“And I’m not,” I say, frustrated that my voice comes out higher than I intended it, almost a whine. I clear my throat before continuing. “I have Fredrich, who is more than capable of protecting me. You know that.”
His tone deepens with unleashed emotions. “I am the leader of this battalion. The first under your command. You should have come to me with your plans.”
“You would have tried to send someone else in my place—”
“As someone should be!” He points at Fredrich. “Take her back to camp.”
I all but bare my teeth at the idea that Fredrich should force my return. “No,” I say, making sure he sees the resolution in my eyes. “The longer you stand here, the more danger you’re putting us in.”
His expression cracks, revealing the raw emotion underneath—fear. “What am I supposed to tell your mother?”
“That I’m doing what she would do in my place.
” The truth doesn’t comfort him in the least, but we’re already on borrowed time and he knows it.
“We gave the orders to your second,” I continue.
“The battalion will move into the valley tomorrow night. They are to rest in the meantime. They’ll need to be ready. ”
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he glares at me. “I’ll wait for the smoke, then I’ll come.” Worry wars with the pride he’s trying to hide at my decision and I know it’s the best compromise I could ask for. He looks at Fredrich. “Do your job,” he says, resolute.
Then he disappears once again.
It is a few more hours before the sun breaches the horizon and we’re forced to find cover.
There’s not much more we can do to hide ourselves than lay within a tall batch of grass and hope the Strou warriors don’t happen upon us.
They do patrol, but seemingly at random.
I originally suspected the unpredictability was meant to dissuade any attacks, but now I actually think it’s due to lazy arrogance.
They believe they’re untouchable up in the security of the hills.
Fredrich unsheathes one of his many swords and lays it across his chest for easy access. “Try to sleep. We have a long night ahead of us.”
A cover of clouds has moved in, blanketing the sun a little, but the shade does little to help me fall asleep. I fold my arms across my chest to help conserve heat, but I can’t stop the involuntary shiver that racks my body. Winter is officially upon us.
“You’re safe with me,” Fredrich says, unused voice rough around the edges.
I peel my eyes open and turn my head to look at him. “What?”
He doesn’t look at me when he speaks again. “You’re fidgeting,” he says. “If you’re worrying, don’t. I’ve got us covered.”
Eyes closed, one arm folded behind his head, he’s a picture of calm and relaxation as he lies within arm’s reach beside me.
Almost as if we were on holiday instead of hiding in enemy territory.
The grass is tall enough to disguise our whereabouts, and coupled with the spotty Strou patrols, being seen isn’t what concerns me.
It’s being heard in the case I fall asleep and my dreams are less than …
pleasant. It’s not uncommon for me to wake with a scream in my throat.
He sighs. “Nothing is going to get past my shield.”
“I’m not doubting your capabilities,” I say with a huff of annoyance as I watch the high reeds sway around us. “I’m just chilly.”
“It’s not that cold.”
Maybe to you, I think, but don’t voice it out loud.
The ground is rock hard and icy against my back.
The occasional gust of wind has me worried about the chance of rain and my breath comes out in tiny smokestacks with every exhale.
I’m not about to let a man who’s spoken a handful of words to me since we left camp last night manipulate me into believing it’s not that cold.
It’s freezing and I will die on this hill. Pun intended.
“Is it the guilt that makes you do that?”
My head snaps in his direction, unsure I heard his question correctly. “Excuse me?”
“You know,” he says, motioning with the hand resting on his chest, as unbothered as ever. “This thing you do where you pretend you’re fine when you’re obviously not.”
It takes me a few breaths to formulate a response that isn’t snarky. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, considering I just informed you that I’m uncomfortable.”
“Yes. The cold. Your nemesis.”
Leaning up on an elbow, I stab my next words directly at him. “You do realize who you’re speaking to, don’t you?”
He isn’t outright smiling, but I can hear the smallest hint of teasing in his voice. “I’m aware of your title.”
“Yet you speak to me as if I’m beneath you.”
Out of all the things I’ve said, this is what makes him finally open his eyes.
“No,” he says, gaze relaxed as he looks at me.
“I’m speaking to you as an equal.” There’s a surprising touch of kindness in his eyes.
“Is that not what you’ve been working toward?
With hope that your soldiers will respect you in spite of your title, and not because of it? ”
“That doesn’t mean I owe you my thoughts.”
“No. It doesn’t,” he agrees, closing his eyes once again.
I lie back down, thankful the conversation has been put to rest and we can go back to pretending we’re sleeping.
“But it has to be lonely,” he says, voice cutting through my momentary relief.
“Soldiers fight together. Live together. Hell, even shit together. They share everything, from their misery to their laughter. Whereas you … you go back to your billet all by yourself and presumably ruminate on all the things you’ve done that led you to this hellscape. ”
My chest aches at his scarily accurate assessment.
I can’t tell if I’m such an easy read or if he’s simply been paying closer attention to me than I realized.
It’s General Samasu’s assignment to keep tabs on me and report back to my mother, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have more than one recruit.
Maybe protecting me isn’t Fredrich’s only task.
“It’s the people I dragged here with me,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the wind. “That’s what bothers me the most about the results of my actions.”
Fredrich’s gaze is already on me when I finally gain the courage to look over at him again. “You believe you’re the reason we’re at war?”
“Isn’t that what they say? We’re fighting because of a lover’s quarrel?”
The mention of the rumor whispered around the campfires at night has him shaking his head. “Don’t listen to the rantings of soldiers who are hungry and mud-logged. They don’t realize it takes more than two people to start a war.”
“And you do?”
“Yes,” he says with enough finality for me to not question him on the matter.
I can’t believe I’ve just confessed my darkest thoughts to a man who has shown barely more than contempt for me. His odd bout of chattiness caught me off-guard and regret is already setting in.
“But let’s say it is true,” he continues after a beat. “That you and your Match ignited this war when you two broke each other’s hearts. Is that so terrible?”
Isn’t the answer obvious? “Yes.”
He shrugs. “There are worse things to die for.”
“Such as?”
“A greedy man who wants all the power for himself.”
Any rebuttal I have gets smothered by the realization that he might actually have a point. A shaky one, at best, but life is all about different perspectives.
He settles back in place with a smile on his face. “If I had my choice, I’d prefer to go to war for a lover’s revenge.”