She did exactly as Pyetar had told her, rushing through the shadows of the forest for hours until she made it back to the camp they’d set up that morning.
Feigning nonchalance, she nodded at the soldiers left behind to guard the collection of tents and horses. They didn’t ask questions, just returned to watching the trees.
Iryana tried to reason with the panic numbing her limbs. Following Karvek, watching him kill that man, watching the blood spill, and then arguing with Pyetar hadn’t actually taken very long. There would be no way to tell she hadn’t gone back when Karvek had ordered, though that didn’t stop the worrying.
Forcing a steadying breath, Iryana sat in her tent and waited out the panic. The rain was loud, steadying. Her tent was really just an oiled cloth hung over a rope tied between two trees. A few rocks kept the ends in place, preserving a small triangle of dry space she could hide in. Not that it helped, already soaked through as she was.
But slowly the fog in her mind lifted.
Karvek had killed Loid Pavoshol, the general of the 18th.You made a joke of my father’s legacy. You are too soft to stand in his place.The general hadn’t been sick, hadn’t been waiting for Karvek to take over. Karvek hadmurderedhim to do it.
What would that mean?
She didn’t know as much as she’d like about the military from before, but she knew promotions were meant to be seamless by design, to avoid chaos as soldiers and commanders were killed in battle. If a general was killed without an established successor, the highest ranked major was meant to take over. There were other regiments in the 18th, and she was pretty sure they were led by more senior soldiers. Surely one of them would have been the natural successor without proof of Pavoshol selecting Karvek for the position. His coup could easily turn into a mutiny.
Yet Karvek had taken the risk, must have had a plan. She doubted it was just for revenge—that seemed far too simple. And wouldn’t the King Commander that she’d heard was rallying the brigades together do something about it?
Iryana groaned, scrubbing at her face. She didn’t have enough information.
All she could do was watch the rain and hope she hadn’t made as horrible a mistake as she thought.
It was hours before the others returned, emerging from the trees like wraiths. Karvek rode before them. Iryana schooled her face into a curious, expectant expression as Karvek’s eyes found her. That’s what he would expect.
He dismounted, handing the horse off to someone else, and then walked directly to her.
It felt like ants crawling up her skin, a feeling she didn’t usually feel around Karvek.
“Did you get there in time?” she asked lightly. “Is everything handled?”
Karvek smiled, features even sharper than usual in the gloomy light. “Yes.”
“I’m glad.” She waited, not letting herself ask questions. He would like that. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answers anyway.
His smile widened. “Did you know the 18th Brigade always belonged to the Horvols, before Loid Pavoshol took over?”
She nodded, keeping her face blank.
“You were so good, Iryana. So helpful.” Karvek smiled. “I think you’ve earned an explanation.”
Was he going to admit to his lie? Tell her the truth? Her blood was rushing in her head so loudly it was all she could do to focus on his words.
“He stole it from my family, but he wasn’t trained to lead. He wasn’t taught what it took for the brigade to survive in this dangerous world.
“I may have been young, but my father was preparing me for command since I was a small boy. Did Pavoshol care? Did he ask me about my father’s plans, the strategies he had carefully established? No. He spit on my father’s legacy, letting the brigade grow weak.” A bit of anger seeped through Karvek’s usually impenetrable control.
“But thankfully we were able to put things right in the end, before he got too sick. Others would have fought my ascension, even with my legacy and Pavoshol’s order. So we came up with an arrangement. I challenged Loid Pavoshol for control of the 18th Brigade. We made it in time to do so, thanks to you.” Karvek grinned fiercely. “I won the challenge, of course. So the 18th is mine now. Back where it belongs.”
There had been nothing weak-looking about the general. No challenge. Just a sword in the gut. Blood leaking over the floor. Karvek offered her more of the truth, but there were still too many lies. She’d never be able to see past them.
She looked down to see Karvek already wearing a blood-red belt.
“Do you follow?” he asked sharply.
“Yes, General,” she answered quickly. He was lying to her, and she couldn’t tell if heknewthat she knew and was telling her to play along. Or if he was just matching the story he told her with the one he’d tell everyone else.
“My father made me what I needed to be to lead. But Pavoshol had always thought I was harsh, always criticizing the way I kept my regiment in line. No one understands what my father did. How he broke me apart to reforge me into what was needed. Pavoshol understood in the end, but not everyone does.”
He leaned closer to her, mouth near her ear. “But it doesn’t matter. I rely on myself, trust myself. I’ve always known what I had to do.”
