Against the Empire: The Dominion and Michian (5 page)

BOOK: Against the Empire: The Dominion and Michian
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“We are waiting for you to agree to come to Bondell. Unless you have had enough of battle, and would like to live a calmer life?” Rashrew called loudly as she approached. “Maybe your Duke will allow you to retire and live in the palace as a reward?”

Imelda felt agitated by the implication that she would not fight any more, even though she had said something similar herself. “Rashrew, if my Duke allows, I will join you for some sport in Bondell as soon as possible,” she blurted out to the Bondell commander as she approached him. Kinsey looked at her with a look of shock on her face, and Imelda realized she has spoken impetuously for the second time that day.

Rashrew seized the moment though, praising her decision so extravagantly that she didn’t know how to graciously back down from her rash promise. “We will ride to Goldenfields immediately to seek the authority for you to ride with us. How many riders will you bring?” he asked.

With that, a downhill slide of events tumbled together upon Imelda, and the next morning she found herself in front of Colonel Ryder. “I have a request from the Bondell forces for my release to allow you to go with them to return to their country, and they ask that you and the cavalry join them in scouring the countryside of criminals. Are you so eager for more battle that you are ready to go chasing it wherever you can find it?” he asked with some deep tone of humor underlying his words.

“As far as I can see, we can release you from duty here. You are therefore hereby ordered to report to the Duke at Goldenfields to receive his permission to go help his ally and father-in-law, the Prince of Bondell,” the colonel said, holding out a written order to that effect.

“May I have some time to put a couple of things in order here?” Imelda asked, not sure how to feel about this out-of-control situation. She hadn’t expected to leave so soon, especially not before Alec had awoken. She wanted to talk with him, to sort out her confusion, to express her appreciation, and to hear his thoughts.

Instead, she was soon back among the cavalry riders, selecting the healthy members of two platoons to join her, Rashrew and the remainder of the Bondell forces for a trip back to Goldenfields and then apparently on to Bondell. She took leave of the riders to return to the desk in her tent, where she awkwardly composed a note to leave for Alec. She had a difficult time finding the right words to express her feelings, difficult mainly because she couldn’t identify which feelings were in ascension at any particular moment.

 

Alec, by the time you read this I will have left to join Rashrew on a journey to Bondell. He has asked for the help of our cavalry in fighting the bandits in the south of the country. As soon as our duty there is done, I will return to Goldenfields. Yours, Imelda
.

 

Well, that was all straightforward information, without a hint of emotion, she knew. She thought about the time long ago, when Alec had laid injured in the infirmary at Goldenfields, with a deadly arrow in his kidney. She had been the only person with medical training available to watch over him, and Colonel Ryder had ordered her to do so. She hadn’t thought highly of him at the time because of his rumored affair with her cousin. But Ryder had revealed to her the falseness of the rumors, and Merle the ingenaire had explained the loneliness of Alec’s childhood. She’d seen him in a different light then, and come to see him as a friend, even more so later after their first campaign to Bondell. At least a friend.

She set the first note aside and began again; he deserved better.

 

Dear Alec, As you heal from your labors, I am riding to help Rashrew with some local battles in his land, before I come back to rejoin you. I hadn’t wanted to leave you so soon, but I know you are in good hands with Armilla and the others to tend to you while I’m gone for this little while. I want to come back to talk to you, because there are many things we could say. I will miss you terribly, and look forward to seeing you again. Love, Imelda.

 

Well, that was a better, bolder product, but still not what she really felt; it would never be copied by future lovers and used to express true love, she was sure. She couldn’t find a way for ink and paper to express the awkward mix of feelings in her heart, and she wanted to see his face and hear his voice as she told him these unsettled things. She folded that letter too, and set it aside while she mulled her message and checked on her own packing.

Pember entered the tent just then. “Shall I prepare to depart too?” he asked in a manner that made it clear he knew he was not going to be taken along on this journey.

“I didn’t expect to have to split our regiment, but the colonel has ordered me to leave immediately. Someone has to remain in command here, and to watch over the wounded, so that we can bring them safely back home,” Imelda said evenly. “You are second-in-command for now, and will probably be the commander yourself should I ever leave the cavalry,” she added. “You are good at this, and learning to be better. Take care of everyone, and do me a favor,” she reached over and pulled the note off her desk. “Give this to Alec when he awakens.”

Pember accepted the note with a stony face, clearly not placated by Imelda’s answer. Just then Rashrew himself entered the tent. “Our men are ready to go anytime,” he said, implying that Imelda should be ready too. “Are your riders prepared?”

“Here take this,” Imelda answered, pushing her saddlebags towards him. “Wait for me with your men, and our riders will be with you in ten minutes.” She watched as Rashrew left the tent. “I’m going to forget something in this rush, but you know how to handle everything,” she said to Pember. “Good luck with the wounded, and hold your heads high when you ride back into Goldenfields. Let them see how proud we are of the way our cavalry performed in this war.” And with that she was out the door, shouting at her riders to get ready to depart, as she was immediately immersed in a jostling crowd of people preparing to leave.

“Pardon me,” she heard as someone on the right side bumped hard into her. “Imelda?” the voice continued, its tone rising.

She looked, and immediately recognized Shaiss, a light ingenaire who had joined the cavalry and fought hard, using ordinary and extraordinary abilities to fit in and contribute during battle.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Imelda said, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. She hadn’t seen him since early in the battle against the lacertii army. The cavalry forces had splintered apart under the pressure, and Imelda had not seen many of them since. “Is Alder alright?” she asked, referring to the other light ingenaire who had been integrated into the cavalry.

“He didn’t make it,” Shaiss said simply. “We dismounted early when the fighting was so dangerous and we were apart from everyone else. We were bending light to stay invisible and kept dodging from spot to spot, but a flurry of arrows seemed to come at us out of nowhere, and…” his voice trailed off.

“I’m so sorry,” Imelda said sympathetically. Alder had been the more out-going of the two, who had ridden together throughout their time in the Goldenfields cavalry.

“He really enjoyed being in the cavalry,” Shaiss replied. “He wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything. He never planned to go back to Ingenairii Hill as long as he could ride and fight with you.” He patted her arm in return, and they moved towards the assembly area.

When she had mounted her horse and assembled her riders, she led the way to the camp of the Bondell forces. There she found not only Rashrew and his men, but also a large contingent of court nobility. Among them she saw Yula.

“Several folks are ready to return to court, now that the fighting is over, myself included,” Yula said. “General Hewlett indicated that your force would escort us back to Goldenfields, so these folks can get back to their usual lives,”
and out of the General’s hair
, she implied.

Imelda groaned, and looked for Rashrew to see if he planned to prevent the travesty of this escort duty. Instead, she spotted him happily bending over the hands of several court ladies, pandering to them, and she groaned again. The ride back to Goldenfields had just become a less inviting prospect.

Meanwhile, Kinsey was back at Alec’s tent, greeting Armilla as she entered. Her deep sense of uneasiness had not abated, and she felt her intuition telling her it was because of Alec’s condition. As she sat and looked at him, she tried to discern what the difference was in his appearance. It had to be a clue to his condition, she was sure. She reached out to hold his hand, and when his sleeve slipped, she saw something that made her gasp.

Kinsey pushed his sleeve up his arm, showing his ingenaire marks. The vibrant, pulsating color and energy she expected to see were gone. The marks were dull scars on his flesh. She reached to his other arm, and found the same distressing destruction of his ingenaire marks. She sat with her head bowed, and watched her own tears drip to the floor. Imelda had told her about the loss of powers, but Kinsey had not truly grasped the concept, not as a permanent condition. But now there was proof; seeing his critical marks so desiccated was visually devastating.

She looked at Alec’s face through the blurry vision of her eyes. He looks so young, she thought to herself. She rubbed her eyes and blinked. He did look younger, she realized. Beneath the exhaustion and gray coloring, his features appeared to have regressed slightly in age. His cheeks were fuller and less defined. The small wisps of whiskers he had sprouted had disappeared.
Why would losing his powers make him younger?
She wondered.
Does he know his powers have gone? Is that why he doesn’t want to awaken? Will they ever come back to him?

Kinsey tenderly placed a hand on Alec’s forehead, like a mother testing her child’s temperature. She tried to use her ingenaire powers to sense Alec’s state of mind, but his profoundly deep slumber was beyond her ability to plumb, behind an unusual barrier she could not breach. She sighed and stood up, silently vowing to watch him closely, then left the tent.

An hour later, the unwieldy procession of departing soldiers began to leave the camp. Imelda placed her forces in the front of the riders from Bondell, seeking not to upset them but hoping to set a pace that would speed up their progress. As they rode away, they wandered through a vast stretch of the army’s tents, supply depots, and mechanical works that had been set up for this war, so that the ride just to reach the countryside beyond the base took over an hour. Imelda turned once to look back as they finally cleared the fringe of the depot and entered the empty lands surrounding the army. A haze of smoke from the many campfires was rising above the city of tents, and a vast gray sky was around and above the smoky cloud. Now though they were away from all of that, out in the open and riding away.

How long until she would see Alec again, she wondered?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3 – Alec at the Chapel

 

Alec awoke, feeling sore, his head aching and his mind foggy. The room was dark, and his bed was hard. He had no notion of where he was, or why he was there, but his memories nagged at him, telling him that this was not a typical morning. He heard a sound, and realized it was a voice, in his room with him, chanting a prayer. He listened to the comforting cadence of the words that called for healing and comfort, then a subtle awareness stole over him that the voice was a familiar one.

He turned his head and saw a priest kneeling near his bedside. “Brother?” he said quietly, trying to place a name to the vaguely familiar face.

Antonio stopped his prayer. He’d waited a long, long time to hear Alec’s voice. He said a quick, quiet prayer of thanks, and looked up. Alec’s eyes were open, and looking at him. They were dull, not bright, and together with his matted hair created an appearance of a man who lacked self-awareness.


Alec?” Antonio answered. “How are you?”


Sleepy, and thirsty,” Alec said, his throat dry.


Here, take a sip of this,” the priest said, holding a small cup, which Alec took and greedily drained.


That was good, very good. May I have more?” Alec asked. The water had tasted unusually refreshing.


It should taste good! It’s your own fountain water, after all. I’ll get more in a minute. How do you feel?”


Sore. And tired, Antonio,” Alec replied. “What day is it?” he struggled to remember where he was, and why. Memories suddenly came flooding back, and he recollected the whole of his story with a moan.


It is the 20
th
,” Antonio replied, rising from his knees.


How long have I been here?” Alec responded, unable to count the days.


You’ve been lying in bed, unconscious, for 17 days,” his friend explained. “Long enough to make many believe that perhaps you would never awaken.”

Alec laid his head back down, and Antonio left the tent to fetch more water. Seventeen days? The boy could not comprehend spending seventeen days unconscious. He thought back to the last thing he remembered, saving Imelda and releasing his marvelous ingenaire powers as the foretold payment in return for the chance to restore life to the cavalry leader. His body had been through a great deal, often carrying two powers at once, flicking back and forth from warrior to healing and even to time traveling, all wearing at him. But seventeen days seemed inexplicably long.

BOOK: Against the Empire: The Dominion and Michian
9.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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