“Ah, her.” Larel seemed to get a good look. “Fritz, you know her?”
“Her?” Fritz glanced now too and shook his head. “I’m not sure. I think I heard they were bringing people who knew about the North.”
“Do you think we can trust her?” Vhalla asked, unable to shake the unsettling feeling.
“The prince apparently does,” Larel replied with a shrug.
Vhalla returned her focus to the two in question. Their discussion seemed to have changed to something more heated, and they were arguing back and forth. Aldrik shifted and, as though he sensed her stare, two dark eyes caught her. Vhalla quickly averted her gaze.
For the remainder of the meal, she made it a point to avoid looking at him. Vhalla picked at her meat. Surely it was a discussion about the North, if that was why this woman travelled with them. Though the casual smiles and relaxed stances made it seem like war wasn’t the subject of conversation.
“Eat, Vhalla,” Larel instructed. “You’ll need your energy.”
Vhalla forced half of the meal down like it was medicine. Her desire for social interaction vanished, and she stood.
“I’m going to tuck in,” she announced to her friends.
“We have a long ride tomorrow,” Larel agreed.
“See you in the morning,” Fritz said with a smile.
Vhalla turned and walked away, not tired in the slightest.
S
HE WAS TRAPPED
in the labyrinth of her nightmares. Every shadowed figure cracked and turned into fog, dissipating at her touch. She ran past them all, feeling the wind roar on the edge of her consciousness. Vhalla ran screaming through the darkness and fire.
Two arms heaved her upright, shaking her awake.
Vhalla immediately wrestled with the other body, trying to tear herself away from the person’s grip. Her forehead was slick with sweat, and her clothes were nearly soaked. Wind howled through the mountains, heralding one of the last storms of summer.
“Vhalla,
stop
.” Larel pulled Vhalla into her arms, pressing Vhalla’s face into her chest and shielding her from the world. “You’re okay, you’re all right. I’m here.”
Vhalla shivered, clinging to Larel as she had every other night she’d woken like this. Her blanket seemed less tangled around her legs; the other woman could wake her from her night terrors faster when she was only an arm’s length away. Vhalla pressed her face into the Westerner, reminding herself that the person she was holding was not the mangled body of her lost friend.
“Sorry,” Vhalla muttered when she was finally ready to face the world again.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Larel said it in such a way that Vhalla believed it.
As it was near dawn, they decided not to go back to sleep. They assisted each other in clipping on their armor before breaking down the tent. Vhalla’s skin felt hot and cold all over. It was as though she could still feel the heat of the fire from the nightmare, the chill of the screams in the darkness. If she couldn’t make it through one night, how could she make it through war?
“Do you want to talk about it?” Larel asked. It wasn’t the first time the woman had posed the question.
“No,” Vhalla replied, having no interest in sharing the darkness that brewed in her as ominously as the storm clouds on the dawn’s horizon.
“Good morning,” an unfamiliar voice chimed, halting any further inquiry from Larel.
Vhalla could’ve thanked the person were it not for the face that belonged to the voice. She paused, mid-fold on the tent canvas, staring at the emerald eyes that shone brightly in the early morning light.
“Good morning,” Vhalla greeted quietly. Seeing this woman and her Northern features so close after her nightmares instantly unsettled Vhalla.
“Good morning,” Larel responded politely. “Can we help you?”
“Vhalla Yarl, the Windwalker.” It wasn’t a question, and it made Vhalla feel anxious. “I don’t know what I expected from the stories, but it was not you,” she said with a laugh.
Vhalla stood slowly.
“And you are?” Larel asked.
“Oh, where are my manners? Elecia.” She stuck out her hand for Larel, then Vhalla. Vhalla took it after only a brief moment’s hesitation. “Say, you sure you really made that windstorm everyone tells me about? You look like you’d be blown over by a good breeze.” Elecia laughed and, despite being a sweet sound, it made Vhalla’s teeth grind together.
“I did; just ask any of the Senators. I know one or two who would be happy to give you a colorful account of the night.” Vhalla turned her back on the woman, strapping her bedroll to Lightning’s saddle. She didn’t care if she was being rude. This woman was the last person with whom she’d discuss the Night of Fire and Wind.
“Well, I guess we will see,” she said cheerfully. “The crown prince asked me to deliver a message.”
Vhalla paused. Aldrik was sending messages through this woman? She barely looked any older than Vhalla.
“He is going to assist you with your training starting this evening.”
Vhalla managed to hold her tongue and give the woman a nod.
“Excellent.” The woman clapped her hands together. “Right then, see you ladies later.” She was gone before either had an opportunity to respond.
Vhalla pressed her eyes closed and swallowed down the nausea the sight the woman evoked. She was disgusted with herself. “I’m going to take these to the cart,” Vhalla announced, grabbing up the tent poles. “I could use a walk.”
Larel nodded mutely and picked up the canvas, taking it to her saddlebag before repeating the process with her bedroll.
Vhalla took a few deep breaths, reminding herself she had no reason to be angry. Aldrik was likely busy, and he was talking to Elecia last night. He mentioned it and asked her for a favor, Vhalla explained away in her head. She should be happy, excited even, to train with Aldrik. But the woman’s words echoed in her mind:
See you later
. Did that mean Elecia was going to be there, too? Or was it just a colloquial saying? Why was she even talking so casually to Aldrik in the first place?
Vhalla waited in line at the cart to return the tent poles. The sun had almost come up—scaring away the storm clouds in the process—and the host was likely to begin their march soon.
“Thanks,” she mumbled to the man loading the cart. Vhalla turned and bumped into a large man with light brown hair. “Sorry,” she muttered, keeping her face down. Vhalla stepped around him to head back to her section of camp when a large hand clasped down on her shoulder.
“Well, don’t you think you’re special,
black armor
?” he sneered, yanking her back.
Vhalla stumbled. “I said I was sorry.” She looked up at the man in annoyance; this was not the morning to test her patience.
“Really? I didn’t hear you.” He leaned down.
“I’m sorry,” she forced through grit teeth, not wanting to make a scene before the small crowd gathering.
“It’s bad enough we have to deal with the Black Legion at all,” the man grumbled. “Now I’ve to take sass from little girls?”
Vhalla frowned.
An armored arm slung itself around her shoulder, and Vhalla blinked in surprise. “Now, now, don’t take it personally, Vhalla. Grun here hasn’t eaten yet, and he’s really grumpy in the morning,” Daniel said with a grin.
“Come on, Grun,” Craig came up on the other side of the man. “Let’s get some food in that giant gut of yours.”
She hadn’t seen the two soldiers since her trial. They’d been her guards when she was in holding,
the good ones
. Daniel was an Easterner like her, yellow-tinted tan skin and full-bodied dark brown hair. Craig’s wavy blonde hair and paler complexion marked him as a Southerner. She’d immediately liked both of them, and this morning was one more reason to add to that growing list.
“Eat with us, Vhalla?” Daniel asked.
“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.” She glanced over at the large man Craig was escorting away.
“Nonsense!” Craig called, and soon she was being led toward the front of the host.
“What are you two doing here?” she asked Daniel as he removed his arm from her shoulders. Craig took the behemoth a far distance ahead before rejoining them.
“We’re soldiers.” Daniel chuckled, the movement tossing his nearly shoulder-length hair. “I’d say we belong here more than you, Miss Windwalker.”
“You’re not palace guards?” she asked with genuine surprise.
He shook his head and raised up his arm. One of his gauntlets was plated in gold, the metal on his forearm catching the glint of the morning’s light. “We’re Golden Guard,” he explained.
Vhalla had heard of Prince Baldair’s personal squadron before; they were rumored to be the best of the best with only the finest lords and ladies serving among them.
As she focused on his arm he focused on her. “I like your hair; you clean up rather nice.”
She raised a hand to the frayed ends of her hair that barely touched the chainmail hood of her armor. Her hair was awful. Vhalla scowled as a hunk of cold meat was shoved into her palm. It was a little charred on one side and the natural fats had coagulated into a jelly-like film that she scraped off onto the ground as they sat around the still-smoldering remains of a fire.
“I don’t think people like that I’m here.” Other soldiers gave her looks, but none were brave enough to approach with two members of Prince Baldair’s highest order at her sides.
“Don’t you think that’s half the fun?” Craig asked with a small grin.
She shook her head.
“Plus, we look
so exotic
with our Black Legion friend.” Daniel took a large bite of his meat.
“Where are you both from?” Vhalla asked, picking at her own food.
“The capital,” Craig said, unsurprisingly.
“Cyven,” Daniel announced.
“Where in Cyven?” She was sincerely interested in anyone from the East.
“Most people don’t know it. It’s a small town.” Daniel laughed when he saw the squint she was giving him and proceeded, “It’s called Paca.”
“Paca!” she gasped.
“You know it?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m from Leoul.”
“
No
.” He seemed as excited as she felt.
“Yes! Yes! I went to the Festival of the Sun in Paca every year with my mum and papa.” Vhalla felt the sweet pang of nostalgia.
“With the old lady who sells the candied nuts?” he asked in disbelief.
“And the man who never stopped singing?” Vhalla affirmed.
“
Oh Paaaaaaaca
,
don’t you go astray
!” Daniel put his hand to his chest and belted before they both collapsed into a fit of laughter. “You really do know!” He flashed her a dazzling smile that was too infectious not to return.
“Oh, how adorable. You finally have someone who understands your love of farm animals.” Craig’s tease was ignored.
Daniel’s focus was only on Vhalla.
“My family’s farm is about a half day’s ride to the Hot Pot Inn. We’d stay there for the festival,” she explained.
“I knew the family who owned the inn. I’d work there sometimes when Dad didn’t need a hand in the fields. I wonder if we ever met.” Daniel gave the matter serious thought.
“Who knows?” Vhalla shrugged and occupied her mouth with a strip of meat. She didn’t remember any young boys in particular, but she didn’t want to discourage Daniel. It was nice to have a connection to home.
“Get ready to move out,” Prince Baldair boomed as he strolled through the ranks.
“I should go.” She stood, passing her mostly untouched breakfast to an eager Craig.
“Ride with us today?” Daniel invited.
“I don’t think I can,” Vhalla said uncertainly.
“They’re only strict about the formation for show. They won’t care now.” Craig was already halfway through her portion.
Vhalla opened her mouth to answer as she felt footsteps thunder over the ground behind her.
“You’re far from home.”
“My prince.” Vhalla turned, giving Prince Baldair a bow. She found his presence uncomfortable. First he’d been nothing more to her than the Heartbreaker Prince, a man straight from the lore of servants. A man she’d only briefly met in the library by chance. Then, he’d been Aldrik’s brother, and her conspirator in sneaking her into the gala at the end of the last Festival of the Sun. That had also been the Night of Fire and Wind. The last time she’d seen Prince Baldair he’d been tending to her wounds at Aldrik’s command.
What did he think of her now?
“I was just about to return.”
“Baldair.” Daniel stood, wiping his palms on his pants, surprisingly relaxed in the presence of his prince and commander. “Would it be trouble if Vhalla rode with us today?”
“You well know it’ll be trouble from the other soldiers if she is around.” Baldair laughed as if the idea was more amusing than off-putting. “But I don’t mind, if her superiors don’t take issue.” The prince gave Vhalla a grin as he paused over the word
superiors
.
“We’ll see ...” Vhalla avoided his presumptuous gaze.
“One of you two walk her back? I don’t want trouble one day out,” the prince demanded, smartly aware of the tensions surrounding her presence.
“I will,” Daniel volunteered first.
“Excellent.” Prince Baldair gave a nod and left.