Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
FITZ
“Steady, men. Hold your fire.” Fitz barked out the command in the loudest whisper he dared without drawing the attention of the passing enemy.
It seemed wrong to address the group of trembling, pale faces as “men,” as not a single one of them had yet crossed the threshold of adulthood.
The innocence of youth still clung to their faces along with the peach fuzz they so proudly tried to pass off as beards, though the papers they had signed at the recruitment office the day before would ensure its swift and painful demise.
Before the year was past, they would replace their eager, boyish excitement with the grim determination of soldiers.
“But Captain—”
He threw a hand behind him, covering the lad’s mouth as he backed further into the foliage that served as the only barrier between them and the Lavenzian fighters.
He bit back a curse as his shifting weight caused a twig to snap underfoot.
An apple orchard was the last place he would have chosen for a battle.
Which was probably why it was picked for an ambush.
I don’t think this is what General Heder meant when he said to make sure the new recruits arrived at their training camp in one piece. This was supposed to be a simple assignment; Lavenza has never ventured this far over the border.
He and his little company of young soldiers were only part of the larger army that was marching to the southeastern military post, but just because his soldiers were new and unseasoned did not make him feel any less responsible for them. If anything, he took their safety even more seriously.
A Lavenzian soldier bringing up the rear of their group paused, swiveling his head slowly from side to side with narrowed eyes. The echo of gunfire still hung in the air, along with the sharp smell of burnt powder and the groans of the dying Mavorians.
Of his dying friends.
It had happened so quickly. One moment, Fitz’s company was enjoying the fresh, crisp air of an early autumn morning as they prepared for a long day of marching.
The next, the men were running for cover as Lavenzian bullets ripped into them, causing them to drop like flies as the sky rained clods of dirt and bits of debris from the first explosive lobbed their way.
They hadn’t stood a chance. Despite a valiant effort to return fire, before five minutes had passed, Fitz and his small group of wide-eyed youth were the only ones left standing—and that due entirely to the luck of finding themselves beside a tree with wide, low-hanging branches.
The enemy’s eyes passed over them, and Fitz exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders as the man propped the barrel of his gun against his shoulder and hurried to catch up with his comrades, whistling a jaunty tune.
Thank you, Deus.
He opened his mouth to give the order to retreat when the Lavenzian suddenly looked over his shoulder, eyes boring directly into Fitz’s own and causing his blood to freeze.
An evil grin stretched across the man’s face as he turned slightly, pitching something small and round in their direction before continuing forward with calm, unhurried steps.
It rolled to a stop not three feet from their hiding place. With a cry for his charges to get back, Fitz dove forward, curling himself around the metal ball.
And then the world exploded.