I carried four things in my waistbelt at all times: a small length of rope, a bar of oats and seeds pressed in honey, a folding blade for tasks my sword was too big for, and a button from my father’s coat.
As I prepared for my Commission, I packed a larger bag with more food, a skin of water, bandages, a single change of clothes, and my tent. I slid my bow and arrows into a compartment attached to my saddle, but I didn’t imagine I’d need to use them. I also took our outdated maps, hoping they’d at least get us close to the proper location.
The one thing I wished I could pack was a calmer mind. Was this mission too ambitious? If I could pull this off—if I could prove we should have gone back to our kingdom by now—every loss I’d suffered since coming to Vosino would be worth it.
Blythe showed up first. I hopped up on my horse, ready to go, and she did the same. “Inigo is grabbing a spare sword, and Griffin is right behind me. Had to kiss his girl goodbye.”
“Griffin has a girl?” I asked in shock.
She smiled. “You know how I said I got someone to throw a fist at me if Griffin and Inigo weren’t enough of a distraction last night? It was her. Rami. She was happy to do anything that might help Griffin.”
My horse moved beneath me as I sat there, dumbfounded. “How long has that been going on?” I asked.
“About a month, I think. She’s one of that group that came about five months ago. Remember?”
I did. We were all impressed with the scrappy group of twenty that ended up here, half of them crawling in after being lost in the Forest for four days. After getting rest and food, they swore allegiance to Kawan so fast it made me dizzy.
I nodded.
“Griffin told her what you said about not giving the enemy the chance to take anything from us, so she was in tears all night.”
“He never said a word about her.”
Blythe shrugged. “Not a lot of secrets around here . . . guess he just wanted one.”
I sighed. This was why relationships were nothing but trouble.
Inigo appeared not a moment later, two swords in hand and a bag slung over his back.
“Hey,” I whispered, “did you know Griffin had a girl?”
He sighed. “Rami. She’s. . . .” He just shook his head.
Did everyone know about this but me?
Sherwin came out shortly after, guiding his horse. His face was serious, and I could see he was concentrating, thinking about the task at hand. I appreciated that. He packed light and moved assuredly, and I found I was satisfied with him as a soldier.
Andre appeared next, looking eager and determined. Finally, Griffin showed up, his eyes shot with red. He kept ducking behind the mane of his horse to hide it. He was all jokes and teasing and exaggeration. It wasn’t until I saw him changed that I realized how badly a place like this needed someone like him.
Someone like my father. Someone to take the edge off.
I glanced at Inigo, who seemed to read my mind.
“We could probably manage without him,” he whispered.
I nodded. Kawan would make sure every single one of us saw the face of the war before it was all said and done—but he could have today.
“Griffin.”
“Yes, sir.” He kept his head hidden.
“You’re staying. Kawan overestimated my numbers.”
He shook his head, swallowing hard. “I can go. Lennox, I’m ready.”
“I can see that you are. But I’m commanding you to stay. I don’t need you.”
I stared at him, willing him to relent. I knew he didn’t want to be seen as a coward. I wouldn’t. But this had nothing to do with that.
Finally, he let out a long breath. “Thanks, Lennox.”
“Nothing to thank,” I claimed. “In our absence, make sure this place doesn’t fall apart, will you?”
He smirked. “Yes, sir.”
“Move out,” I ordered. I set the pace, urging my horse to move fast. I wanted a good distance between me and the castle when Kawan found out I’d left behind one of his hand-chosen soldiers. And I needed to get closer to Dahrain. It felt like I’d been trapped beneath water, and crossing that border would be taking a long breath.
The hardest part of the trek came early. There was woodland on the farthest edge of the land, thick but manageable. Beyond that were rolling plains full of tall grass and wildflowers, and I had to admit that galloping across those sometimes felt like skipping through a painting. It was a shame no one really knew about it. Blocking it from the other side was the Forest, a collection of wiry trees so dense, it was almost impossible to pass.
The upper canopy was too full for sunlight to get through, leaving the forest floor bare. The shorter trees didn’t bother with leaves but shot out wide, spindly branches that clung on to everything and sliced clothes and arms. And it was all so tightly woven together that even finding an entry point was tricky. The only way to make it through was by tracing the little pieces of sky visible through the canopy. Very few could do that without getting horribly turned around. And since we only traveled this far west for Commissions or seeking poor, needy recruits, we didn’t have a worn path.
Getting through the Forest took us several hours, but thankfully we were through it before nightfall. I sighed in relief when we saw daybreak through the other end.
The section of the continent we were currently inhabiting wasn’t terrible. We had access to the sea, somewhat farmable lands, and a level of seclusion that I preferred. But as we made our way along the borders of the other established countries, I found myself aching for their beauty. There were wide, rolling fields and streams that made music as they ran over rocks on their way to the ocean. Whenever we found a road that led past a village, the children would chase our horses, laughing and waving. There were structures being built in some places, the lands still being parceled off and claimed. Walls to keep in, walls to keep out.
We traveled as fast as we could, not stopping once. Aldrik had taken the cattle from northern Halsgar, so I chose to arc low for good measure, going along the southern edge by Cadaad, still sweeping along their border. By sunset, we had reached the boundaries of Monria. The tree line had thinned since this map was made, but I could tell it was the same place.
“Here,” I said, checking that square of the map again, showing it to Inigo.
“Oh. Umm . . . I can’t read the words,” he said quietly.
I pulled it back for a second, not meaning to embarrass him. “You don’t need the words. Look at the terrain. I think this forest is the one here, and that lake we passed was this one.”
He took the map, staring at the shapes of the trees and rocks, looking up and surveying what was around us and thinking of what we’d seen. I saw as the understanding washed over his face. “I think you’re right.”
“Good.” I turned to the others. “We’ll camp beneath those trees and leave at first light.” I trotted over to the closest tree to dismount and tie up my horse.
Inigo started pulling out his tent. “For the record, I’m glad we’re doing this. If we succeed, it could be the most important Commission anyone’s ever done.”
I scratched my horse behind his ears. “If we do it right, I agree. If we do it wrong . . . I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Then don’t. We have a good unit here. If we keep our heads down, follow the lead of others in the palace, we should be able to do this.”
“Let’s hope so. But listen.” I pulled him around the far side of my horse, speaking quietly. “If something happens to me, find a way to save the Commission. Make something out of it. Even if I don’t live to see it, I want to get Dahrain back.” It almost hurt to confess how badly I wanted it back. Wanting meant the possibility of losing, and I liked to keep a distance between that kind of pain and myself. “The team will follow you. Probably better than they follow me.”
He swallowed. “I will. But nothing’s going to happen to you,” Inigo insisted. “You’re too smart.”
I looked down, grinding the toe of my boot into the dirt. “My father was smart. And he came back to Vosino in pieces. I don’t think it would hurt Kawan too much to see me gone. So, if that’s part of his plan, you keep going. You push until we get our kingdom back.”
He gave me a quick nod and went to work settling in for the night.
I pulled my tent from my bag and started laying everything out for my site. It was cool, but not so cold that we needed to make a fire.
I heard footsteps approaching and looked over my shoulder to find Blythe walking my way. “Do you need something?” I asked.
She looked back to make sure no one could hear her and asked, “Have you ever actually killed anyone?”
It was so ridiculous I almost laughed.
“Blythe, how long have you been at Vosino?”
“A year and a half. I came with the group from Roshmar after our crops failed.”
That was the biggest boost we’d had in ages. Roshmar wasn’t blocked by that awful forest, but there were mountains to contend with. A third of that crowd of people showed up with frostbite, and apparently they’d lost a dozen or so along the trek.
“So, then, you should know. Three earlier this week. Another handful of attempted deserters a few months ago. Remember the pirates who managed to circumvent the rocks and tried to invade from the sea? I thought my sword would be permanently stained red after that.” I shrugged. “There are plenty more, but I’m afraid I’ve stopped keeping track. I have the bloodiest hands in the army.”
She stared at me again for a moment. “Then why did you let Griffin stay behind? If you care so little about who lives and dies, why spare him?”
I straightened up, facing her fully. “That wasn’t mercy. I didn’t need him. Furthermore, it will be a delight to come back and see how Kawan feels about me disobeying him. There’s no loss to me.”
Something in her eyes shifted as she watched me. “It was kind all the same, to care about two people in love.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” She stayed there a moment. “You know, even in places that are dark, even in the midst of war, sometimes, people find light in each other.”
And suddenly I could see it there, in her eyes. She was asking questions I didn’t want to answer.
I felt the icy hand of fear creeping up my spine.
“I’m going to assume the rush of the Commission has gotten the better of you, and I will forget this conversation ever happened.”
She smiled, taking a step back. “We’ll see.”
I’d said I’d settle for being feared if I couldn’t be known. I was wrong. I preferred being feared. Being known left you bare, and I was chilled to my bones at the thought of it happening to me.
“Blythe,” I said, finding my voice. “That’s not . . . it won’t happen.”
She shook her head, already backing away, all ease and confidence. “I already told you. I don’t fail.”
