Page 69 of To Kill a King
Surely, he didn’t mean her, personally. That’s what the scouts were trained for. She was a decent fighter but didn’t have the stealth such a task required. Though, knowing Roland, he probably wanted her out of his way so he didn’t have to constantly be reminded that the most skilled tactician in their army wasn’t a sun elf. Or even fully elven.
Zadé glanced at her feet. She wished the human half of herself gone just as much as he did.
She glimpsed Sorisana Svialto, one of her best scouts, sitting on a log at one of the campfires eating her breakfast rations. “Give me thirty minutes, Your Majesty, and it’ll be done.”
Roland grunted as she walked off.
The gold and vermillion leaves fluttered in the full morning light. Autumn had always been Zadé’s favorite season, and not just for the pumpkin and cinnamon spice. For several weeks a year, the gods splashed brilliant colors across the trees of the land, a transient beauty to be admired before it disappeared for another eleven months. Even if the shades were more muted here, on the human side of the border. How ironic the first—and final, if she had her way—confrontation between the two races would happen now, before winter drove the two sides to the ground to lick their wounds and let their anger fester for another season.
“Sorisana!”
“General!” The scout leaped to her feet and saluted.
“King Enorathil is ready to sound the charge. But the ravines to the south should be cleared first. Can you do it in thirty minutes?”
Her chest swelled as she smiled, nodding. “It will be done, General.”
“Take whomever you need. Dismissed.”
The mountain elf dropped the salute, pivoted, and strode away to gather her team. The clank of armor and weapons rang in the background as word of the King’s intent spread through the soldiers and they prepared to move.
“Niece.”
Zadé spun around, arms and torso at attention. “Aunt?”
Cressida Brightleaf watched Sorisana’s retreating figure. “Making use of your new rank already?”
She snorted. As if. “Roland wants to attack and is worried we’ll lose the advantage of the light. The southern border needs to be cleared.”
“It’s King Enorathil. In public, you will show him proper respect.” Cressida awaited Zadé’s nod of apology before continuing, “And the south is handled. I left Vaeri there to keep it so.”
“She’s better used at the front.”
“No.”
Zadé ground her teeth. “I know she’s your friend, and you want her safe, but mages of her skill are rare. We need her defending our soldiers. And she’s fully capable of taking care of herself.”
Tension stretched between them for several heartbeats. Zadé clenched her jaw, refusing to look away or back down.
Cressida sighed and pulled out her scrying mirror. “Fine. I’ll tell her to allow Sorisana to relieve her.” The tremble in her voice shattered something in Zadé’s chest.
Valek. If she’d had someone she cared for as much as Cress loved Vaeri… Zadé took a deep breath. “Aunt.”
Cressida turned back to her and raised an elegant eyebrow. The corners of her lips were pinched together as though she were trying to hide a frown.
“Tell her to position herself on the southern flank. There should be less direct fighting in that quadrant.”
With a sigh that released the tension from her shoulders, Lady Brightleaf nodded her thanks and walked away.
Zadé sat down in Sorisana’s vacated seat and pulled out her packet of jerky.
A cool autumn breeze blew through the camp, carrying several fallen leaves with it. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. No matter how tight she made the bun, her fine flyaways refused to stay in place. She’d have to do it again, right before the charge. Leaving it down for some human to grab mid-battle was asking for a slit throat.
She’d kill for some ripe fizzleberries. But it had been weeks since the army had more than hard tack available. If they could win this, fresh fruit would be waiting at the victory celebration.
At least she could tell herself that.
With a sigh, she pushed off the log. Time to check in with Roland and make sure everyone knew their orders.