The Liberian

Chapter 47

“Yes, you turned thirteen, but after we met.”

“You two remind me of an old friend and me,” Halle mused softly.

“Who?” Fritz asked, oblivious to the sorrow that laced her words.

“His name was Sareem.” She fussed with Lightning’s mane.

“Is he at the palace?” Fritz tilted his head.

“He died on the Night of Fire and Wind.” Halle was momentarily assaulted by her nightly visions of her friend’s battered and broken body. It was her fault. She’d been too slow and he’d been waiting for her.

“I’m sorry, Vhal. Was he someone special?” Fritz asked, pulling Halle from her self-inflicted mental a***e.

“He was a good friend—special, like a brother.” Halle physically shook the images from her head, feeling another set of eyes fall on her from her left. Her sanity couldn’t handle another question on Sareem so she decided to take control of the conversation. “How long will we ride today?”

“Another two or three hours,” said a voice, dark as midnight.

Halle turned and looked up at the crown prince. “That’s all?”

Derek nodded. “It will take some time for a host this size to stop and set up camp. We don’t want to do it in the dark.”

Halle nodded and turned away before she became too entranced by him. Fritz and Hardy began to talk between them, but Halle excluded herself from the conversation. She felt exhausted and passed the rest of the day in a daze.

When the sun was two-thirds of the way through the sky, the trumpet bellowed twice, calling for an all-stop.

“Make camp on the left side,” Major Gales barked, and the White Legion followed her order.

Derek split off and dismounted between the White Legion and the pole-arms. His father’s tent was erected in the center of the forward legion, and Derek’s went up at the edge.

The more experienced soldiers who knew what to do began to set up tents. The Imperial family members’ tents were significantly larger and rose up in a square with a pyramid roof. Groups of people ran over to assist each royal in setting up their temporary home.

It was a nice feeling to be out of the saddle. Halle stretched out her legs, ignoring the stiff ache, as she tied Lightning to a low-hanging tree branch. But she suspected the horse was smart enough not to run.

“Halle, we’re sharing,” Hardy called, walking over to her with a bundle of canvas in her hands.

Relief settled over her as Halle pulled her bedroll off Lightning’s saddle. Hardy was with her. She felt guilty that the woman had become her keeper, but Halle was too mentally and physically exhausted to waste much energy on such a small guilt.

Seasoned soldiers took personal effects from their saddlebags, like blankets or small pillows, and made themselves comfortable in their cramped spaces. Some regarded her with curiosity, some ambivalence, which was better than the one or two dirty glances she received even within the White Legion.

Hardy drove two posts, which suspended a length of canvas, into the ground. The product was a simple triangular tent. Privacy came in the form of two flaps in the front and back that could be tied closed. It was barely big enough for their two bedrolls.Dinner will be ready soon,” Hardy announced after they’d finished settling.

“What’s for dinner?” Halle followed the Western woman as she walked toward one of the fire pits.

“Whatever the hunters can find with speed,” Hardy answered.

Tonight that appeared to be a few deer, hare, and pheasant that already dripped fat into the fires from the turning spits. Halle received a shred of meat directly into her palm. She thought back to the lunch she’d shared with Prince Baldair at his formal table. Was he eating with his fingers now also?

“It’s not half bad,” Halle mused as she gnawed half-heartedly on a corner of the meat.

“I’ve always heard the Southern Forest was the easiest stretch of the march.” Hardy tore off a strip with her teeth, eating ravenously. “The soldiers say that the Western Waste makes up for it in difficulty, and if we dip into our rations now we’ll never make it through the desert.”

Suddenly everyone was on their feet, giving the salute of the White Legion. Halle was slower in bringing her fists to her chest. The crown prince walked up to the circle, his hands folded behind his back in a commanding stance. After a long moment of assessment, he gave a nod and the company relaxed. Derek walked over to the far corner and sat down next to a woman whom Halle had never seen.

Her skin was a deep tan color, not quite chocolatey, more like the color of a White tea that had been steeped for too long. Her hair was the same texture as the Northerners, and Halle instantly felt uncomfortable. Halle put her fingertips to her cheek, touching the faint red line of recently healed skin, remembering the Night of Fire and Wind. The woman’s hair curled like corkscrews in every direction, and she wore a red bandana around her forehead that pushed it back. She had angular features and striking green eyes. Halle’s uneasiness aside, the woman was rather beautiful.

She watched the odd exchange as the watercolor sky grew inky White. Derek sat with one knee up, an arm propped on it. He had removed his cape and sat leisurely in his armor. The woman was laughing, and Halle even saw a smile sneak across Derek’s cheeks from time to time. It was a smile that Halle had only ever seen given to her.

“Who is that?” Halle spoke so she couldn’t hear the whisper of his throaty laughter with the other woman on the wind.

“Who?” Hardy tried to squint across the fire pit.

“The woman the prince is talking to. I’ve never seen her before.” If the woman had been in the Tower, it was amazing that Halle had missed it. The woman’s appearance alone made her uneasy.

“Ah, her.” Hardy seemed to get a good look. “Fritz, you know her?”

“Her?” Fritz glanced now too and shook his head. “I’m not sure. I think I heard they were bringing people who knew about the North.”

“Do you think we can trust her?” Halle asked, unable to shake the unsettling feeling.

“The prince apparently does,” Hardy replied with a shrug.

Halle returned her focus to the two in question. Their discussion seemed to have changed to something more heated, and they were arguing back and forth. Derek shifted and, as though he sensed her stare, two dark eyes caught her. Halle quickly averted her gaze.

For the remainder of the meal, she made it a point to avoid looking at him. Halle picked at her meat. Surely it was a discussion about the North, if that was why this woman travelled with them. Though the casual smiles and relaxed stances made it seem like war wasn’t the subject of conversation.

“Eat, Halle,” Hardy instructed. “You’ll need your energy.”

Halle forced half of the meal down like it was medicine. Her desire for social interaction vanished, and she stood.

“I’m going to tuck in,” she announced to her friends.

“We have a long ride tomorrow,” Hardy agreed.

“See you in the morning,” Fritz said with a smile.

Halle turned and walked away, not tired in the slightest.

SHE WAS TRAPPED in the labyrinth of her nightmares. Every shadowed figure cracked and turned into fog, dissipating at her touch. She ran past them all, feeling the wind roar on the edge of her consciousness. Halle ran screaming through the darkness and fire.

Two arms heaved her upright, shaking her awake.

Halle immediately wrestled with the other body, trying to tear herself away from the person’s grip. Her forehead was slick with sweat, and her clothes were nearly soaked. Wind howled through the mountains, heralding one of the last storms of summer.

“Halle, stop.” Hardy pulled Halle into her arms, pressing Halle’s face into her chest and shielding her from the world. “You’re okay, you’re all right. I’m here.”

Halle shivered, clinging to Hardy as she had every other night she’d woken like this. Her blanket seemed less tangled around her legs; the other woman could wake her from her night terrors faster when she was only an arm’s length away. Halle pressed her face into the Westerner, reminding herself that the person she was holding was not the mangled body of her lost friend.

“Sorry,” Halle muttered when she was finally ready to face the world again.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Hardy said it in such a way that Halle believed it.

As it was near dawn, they decided not to go back to sleep. They assisted each other in clipping on their armor before breaking down the tent. Halle’s skin felt hot and cold all over. It was as though she could still feel the heat of the fire from the nightmare, the chill of the screams in the darkness. If she couldn’t make it through one night, how could she make it through war?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hardy asked. It wasn’t the first time the woman had posed the question.

“No,” Halle replied, having no interest in sharing the darkness that brewed in her as ominously as the storm clouds on the dawn’s horizon.

“Good morning,” an unfamiliar voice chimed, halting any further inquiry from Hardy.

Halle could’ve thanked the person were it not for the face that belonged to the voice. She paused, mid-fold on the tent canvas, staring at the emerald eyes that shone brightly in the early morning light.

“Good morning,” Halle greeted quietly. Seeing this woman and her Northern features so close after her nightmares instantly unsettled Halle.

“Good morning,” Hardy responded politely. “Can we help you?”

“Halle Greg, the Windwalker.” It wasn’t a question, and it made Halle feel anxious. “I don’t know what I expected from the stories, but it was not you,” she said with a laugh.

Halle stood slowly.

“And you are?” Hardy asked.

“Oh, where are my manners? Elecia.” She stuck out her hand for Hardy, then Halle. Halle took it after only a brief moment’s hesitation. “Say, you sure you really made that windstorm everyone tells me about? You look like you’d be blown over by a good breeze.” Elecia laughed and, despite being a sweet sound, it made Halle’s teeth grind together.

“I did; just ask any of the Senators. I know one or two who would be happy to give you a colorful account of the night.” Halle turned her back on the woman, strapping her bedroll to Lightning’s saddle. She didn’t care if she was being rude. This woman was the last person with whom she’d discuss the Night of Fire and Wind.Well, I guess we will see,” she said cheerfully. “The crown prince asked me to deliver a message.”

Halle paused. Derek was sending messages through this woman? She barely looked any older than Halle.

“He is going to assist you with your training starting this evening.”

Halle managed to hold her tongue and give the woman a nod.

“Excellent.” The woman clapped her hands together. “Right then, see you ladies later.” She was gone before either had an opportunity to respond.

Halle pressed her eyes closed and swallowed down the nausea the sight the woman evoked. She was disgusted with herself. “I’m going to take these to the cart,” Halle announced, grabbing up the tent poles. “I could use a walk.”

Hardy nodded mutely and picked up the canvas, taking it to her saddlebag before repeating the process with her bedroll.