Page 112 of Beds and Blades

“I will stay behind the formation. I will not engage unless I have to. If it goes wrong, I will get back to the wall. I have the sword and the hook and four months of your training and the analytical framework you have been telling me is an asset. Let me use it.”

The soldiers were assembling in the courtyard behind me. Ten of them, mounted and armed, breath visible in the cold air, waiting in focused quiet.

Varia held my gaze. Behind us, the soldiers were mounting. She had perhaps thirty seconds to continue arguing, and we both knew I was not going to spend those thirty seconds changing my mind. She looked toward the gate, then back at me.

I watched the calculation move across her face. She was my friend, which made her want to keep me behind the wall. She also knew exactly what I was capable of. And somewhere beyond the courtyard, Skip was going to be furious with both of us.

“Behind the formation,” she said at last. Then, sharper, “Armor. Now.”

I moved.

“You do not engage unless they come to you,” she continued as I reached for the straps. “If one comes to you directly, the hook. Understood?”

“Understood,” I said.

She held my gaze for one more moment.

“Get your armor on and mount your horse,” she said. “Keep your helmet on. They know who you are.”

They know who you are. A cold knot tightened in my stomach. I could still see the red eyes in the ruins speaking to me.

I shook it off.

I moved immediately.

The armor was where I had left it—maintained, ordered, ready. I stripped off the surcoat, set the plates over the leather, and pulled the wool back on once the last buckle was secure.

I had done this before. Repeatedly. In daylight. In controlled conditions. Without urgency.

Now there was urgency.

The weight settled onto me differently this time. Real. Functional. Intended. Ready.

I checked my range of motion once and reached for my weapons.

“Get your horse,” Varia said.

***

We rode out in formation through the eastern gate, ten soldiers and Varia and me, the horses moving through the snow with the quiet of animals that had done this before. The cold hit differently outside the walls. This wasn’t a contained training yard. This was the open cold of the valley, the wind moving freely across the snow without anything to interrupt it.

I rode at the rear of the formation, as agreed. Velox moved beneath me with the steady confidence of a horse who knew his rider and expected the same trust in return. Months earlier, I had clung to the saddle as though it were the only thing keeping me alive. Now I let my hands rest lightly on the reins and moved with him.

Varia had said command layer.

I had been turning this over since the watchtower.

My only previous encounter with the command layer had been the western courtyard breach during my second day in Mytharo. I had seen them only from a distance, as a civilian observer protected by ignorance. I had not fully understood how dangerous they were.

I understood now.

Four months in the training yard had given me a detailed map. The three figures waiting at the treeline were the territory.

I had the hook at my belt and the sword beside it and the muscle in my arms that had not been there in the fall.

I did not know if this was enough.

I filed that thought under Things Unlikely to Improve with Further Analysis and returned my attention to the immediate problem. We kept riding.