Page 115 of Beds and Blades

It was the correct outcome. The alternative had been Varia dying.

I held those facts in that order: first the weight, then the reason. The reason did not erase the weight. It made the weight bearable. I was beginning to understand that this was what the garrison’s steadiness was made of.

I stood with the hook in my right hand, my chest heaving. Each breath pulled freezing air into my lungs, stinging my throat and turning every inhale painful. Moonlight lay across the white valley, and the silence settled around us like fresh snow filling Velox’s hoofprints.

The stillness did not reach me. My pulse remained fast and electric, every edge of the world unnaturally precise. I felt the weapon in my hand, the blood on my sleeve, and the bodies lying motionless in the snow.

I had acted. Correctly. Decisively.

I was still inside the moment.

Varia’s face had gone unnaturally still. Her eyes were wide, fixed on me as if she were confirming that every part of me remained attached, while her mouth pressed into a hard line that did nothing to hide the fear beneath it. Then her shoulders dropped by a fraction, and something fierce and relieved moved across her expression.

She looked caught between embracing me and shouting at me.

“I told you not to engage.”

“It was going to kill you!”

Her mouth tightened. “You broke formation.”

“I left the rear because a command-layer vampire was about to take your head off!”

“You could have died.”

“I know. But I didn’t, and you’re still breathing. You’re welcome!”

Varia’s reply stopped behind her teeth. For a moment, neither of us looked away.

Then Varia exhaled through her nose, anger and relief still fighting for control of her face. “We will discuss your interpretation of orders later.”

“That seems to be a developing theme.”

The downed soldier. I crossed to him. His arm was badly damaged, and he would need Caen, but he was breathing. He would live.

I had one hand on his shoulder when I heard the hoofbeats.

Skip came across the valley from Ely at full speed.

He came off the horse before it had fully stopped moving.

He assessed the field in approximately four seconds. The three vampires down. The garrison standing. The downed soldier. Varia. Me.

Skip’s anger transmitted to me, but fear sat beneath it, hotter and harder to bear.

As he took in the three dead vampires, something new cut through his anger: a hard current of exhilaration and pride that his expression refused to show.

He crossed to the downed soldier. He gave two orders to the garrison in the command voice. He stood up. He gazed at Varia.

Varia, to her credit, met his gaze with equanimity. She had made a decision that she was prepared to account for.

His eyes then turned to me.

“We will discuss this inside,” he said.

Chapter twenty

Relief