Page 71 of Warrior’s Mate

"Good. Now stay alive until I can tell you in person."

"That sounds suspiciously like an order."

"You'll survive."

The channel ended because a medic needed Maelis, not because either of them had run out of things to say.

Kaiven looked through the shuttle viewport. Below them, Wasaytu's fields were cut by fires. The grain terraces that had glowed gold that morning were dark beneath smoke. Emergency craft moved in thin lines toward the relief centers. Farther east, something large burned in the sky.

He had spent years believing Farseek would always be here when he returned.

Now he understood the arrogance in that assumption. Home was not a place that waited unchanged while soldiers went elsewhere to defend important things. Home was itself one of the important things, held together every day by people who knew roads that were not on military maps, who kept registries and seed vaults and irrigation channels and family names.

He could not restore the morning. He could decide what he did with what remained. The shuttle banked toward the relief station, and Kaiven saw the landing lights below.

Maelis was somewhere among them. For the first time all day, he allowed himself to go to her.

Chapter 14 — Reunion

The relief station had been built for harvest accidents, seasonal storms, and the occasional transport collision. It had never been intended to receive a district at war.

By the time Kaiven arrived, the central hall had become a field hospital, registry center, shelter, command post, nursery, and morgue separated mostly by portable screens and whatever signs someone had found time to print. The smell was antiseptic layered over smoke, sweat, scorched fabric, and food concentrate.

He stepped through the entrance and stopped.

For fifteen minutes on the ridge, he had commanded hundreds of people without hesitation. Faced with several thousand civilians packed into one building, he had no idea where to begin.

A volunteer at the intake desk looked up. "Name?"

"Captain Kaiven Daratu. Brigade. I'm looking for—"

"If you're reporting for duty, command is through the blue doors. If you're looking for family, register at table nine. If you're wounded and pretending you're not, medical is table three."

Kaiven glanced down at himself. Blood streaked one sleeve, none of it his. Dust covered his uniform. His left hand was swelling around the knuckles.

"I'm looking for Maelis Torren."

The volunteer's expression changed. "Registrar Torren?"

"Yes."

"Of course you are."

Kaiven frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means half this building is looking for Registrar Torren whenever something doesn't make sense." She pointed toward the far side of the hall. "Last I saw her, she was near family records. Unless someone dragged her to medical. Which they should have done an hour ago."

"Thank you."

"Captain?"

He turned back.

"If you find her, tell her she is not allowed to reorganize any more of my intake system until she gets that knee looked at."

"I will deliver the order."

"She'll ignore you."