Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3) (15 page)

Chapter 16

Her new office reeked of men.  The wood walls were scarred with soot, and the chairs were stained from the oils on soldiers' armor.  Sal sat at her desk, the file for Ricown Brekar the only thing on it.  She flipped through it again, making note of the comments from his officers.  Nothing in the report was glowing but nothing showed her problems, either.  Overall, the man's record was amazingly mediocre.

She glanced up at a soft tap on the door and called out, "Come."  The archer slipped inside, his grey eyes meeting hers quickly before he looked down.  Sal pointed at the chair across from her.  "Have a seat, soldier."

"Yes, ma- er sir."

"I read your file, Ricown.  Is there anything you'd like to add to it?" she asked.

"Not really, sir.  I tried hard to learn what was expected of me, but I'm aware that my chances for advancement are slim."

"Why's that?"

He looked up, confused.  "I was a stable hand, sir.  My father was a stable hand.  His father was a stable hand.  I wasn't born into a soldier's family."

"Do you want to be a soldier?" she asked.

"Yes, sir.  I mean, that's why I enlisted.  I learned how to hunt pretty early.  Da used ta add to our cupboards that way.  When the Empire pushed into Myrosica and they had that big recruitment for the army, I was able to get in."

"So that's where you learned to shoot like that?  From your father?"

"Some, I guess.  I mean, they taught us here, too.  The Corporal, he put me at the gates last night because I didn't loose with the rest, so I still have some more to learn."

She closed his folder and leaned back.  "Ricown, I don't really stand on ceremony much.  Relax.  I won't bite your head off for answering my questions honestly."  He nodded but said nothing so she continued.  "So, your officer thought that you should've loosed with the rest.  You didn't, and he gave you extra duties as punishment, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did he even notice that you hit your mark?"

"No, sir. 
I
wasn't even sure, except that you looked right at me.  I don't know how you knew where that arrow came from, either."

"I see."  The kid's honesty impressed her.  "And when did your parents move to Anglia?"

"My grandparents, sir.  Before my mom was born."

"Do you know where they came from?"

"Viraenova," he said softly.

"And you can see in the dark better than your fellow soldiers, too?"

"Yes, sir," he said, stunned.

"How iliri are you?" she asked, smiling kindly to let him know it was safe to answer.

"A quarter, ma'am – I mean sir."  He looked back into her eyes timidly.  "They don't talk about that here."

"Yeah, well I think they will.  Ricown, what is it you want to do?  I told you to think about it.  If you could be transferred to any place in the army, what role would you want?"

He tried to hide the smile, but Sal saw it.  "Heavy Cavalry.  I've always liked the horses, I just didn't want to spend all my time behind them."

"How familiar are you with the units in the army?" she asked, changing the subject slightly.

"We're taught all of them in training camp before we're confirmed into the army, sir."

"Can you tell me the elite outfits?  Any units that specialize in extraction, infiltration, or tactical skirmishing?"

"We don't have anything like that, sir.  The army is..." he sighed, and looked up at her.  "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Please."

"They're a bunch of tradition-bound fools, sir.  They think every war will be won if it's fought head on.  I've been reading about Terric and the tactics they've been using.  I know what the symbol on your armor means, too."

"And what do you think about that, Private?"

"Are you really Salryc Luxx of the Black Blades, of the Conglomerate of Free Citizens?" he asked, putting it together like the name of some legend from an ancient myth.

"Yeah.  I am.  The new Second at Arms is Cyno, my partner.  And if you've heard about us -"

"I've read everything about you," he interrupted in awe.

Sal smiled and continued.  "Then you know what elite units do."  He nodded.  "I would like to start training you for special operations, if you're willing."

His eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he leaned forward in his excitement.  "Yeah.  Wow.  I'd love to, but why me?"

"Ricown, do you know how big two millimeters is?"

He held up his fingers only a hair apart.  "About like that.  Why?"

"Because if you'd been over just two millimeters, we wouldn't be having this conversation.  You took your aim, you knew your shot, and you were wise enough to aim for the gap in my armor.  If I'm not mistaken, you expected me to dodge, too."

"Yeah," he said, and Sal realized he was blushing.  "I knew you'd turn, I just didn't realize you could move that fast.  But I'm not, I mean..." he paused, then stiffened as if remembering who he talked to.  "Sir?  They don't make stable hands into officers."

"Do you know what I was before I became a soldier?" she asked.

"No, sir."

"Ricown, I was born a slave.  I was conscripted into the army because I picked a fight – I don't recommend that, either – and I spent two years behind a desk keeping inventory for a stable.  I earned my place in the Black Blades, I worked my ass off to keep it, and I got promoted.  Take the day off.  Pack your gear.  I will be transferring you to housing below the Palace and this evening, we'll have a horse issued to you."  Sal stood as she finished.  Ricown hopped to his feet and saluted her crisply, unable to get rid of the smile on her face.  "Dismissed," she told him.

He almost made it to the door.  With one hand on the latch, he paused.  "Sir?"

"Yeah," she said offhandedly, slipping his file back into a drawer in her desk.

"Are the stories really true?"

"No.  There were only six Escean Warlords, we were just supporting the heavy cav in that valley, and Star Fall assisted with Echo Pass."  She'd heard all of the variations being told of her past missions.

"Eight of you took out six Warlords in the middle of their own broch, though?  Wow," he said, turning to leave.

"Oh no, that was just Cyno and I.  There were eight of us in the mountains, but the Warlords was a small infiltration," she said, looking up. 

His eyes were huge, and his mouth was open.  "You?  And he?  Just two of you?"

"Infiltration.  They can't fight back if they don't know you're there.  Ricown, it's pretty easy to cut a man's throat."  She looked at him pointedly, then turned back to her desk, listening as the kid slipped from the room.

Jase?  I just found our first spec ops soldier.  If he's any good, train him with Hwa,
she sent.

Thinking 'bout conscripting some grauori, kitten?

Nope, but I hope to convince a few.

Good.  Now come downstairs.  Yer ta meet the officers,
he reminded her.

"Shit," she whispered, grabbing her cloak and heading for the door.  Sal hopped down the stairs, her boots ringing on the stone, but paused before she turned for the courtyard.  Stepping through a little too casually, she smiled over at Jase, Hwa, and Roo sitting beside him.  A small group of officers was gathered, but the men lounged on the stone railing and chairs scattered through the courtyard.

I thought I was late?
she asked Jase.

Ya are, but most a 'em did na show.

Gotcha,
she replied.

"And where are the rest?" Sal asked the men before her.

A familiar voice answered from the side.  "They won't come.  They don't think a woman can order them around,"  Cillian Tor called to her.

"I see.  Jase, get the names of the officers here.  Hwa, come with me.  Lord Tor, this is not a public spectacle.  Find yourself something useful to do." 

Sal turned her feet toward the barracks, amused more than angry but unwilling to let the men know that.  Hwa trotted along beside her, a smile on his face.

You're gonna go all grauori bitch on them, aren't ya?
he asked, laughing in her head.

Yep, pretty much.  Figured I might need back-up if they don't take this well. 

Always, Kaisae
.

She hit the main door of the barracks hard, and it slammed against the stone wall as she stormed through.  Men in all states of dress jumped up in shock at her entrance, a few scrambling for shirts in the presence of a woman.  She didn't slow until she was in the center of the room.

"Where are my officers!" she demanded.

"Your officers?"  A soldier beside her laughed.

It only took Sal two steps to reach him.  She glared right in his face.  "Yeah,
my
officers.  Your pathetic attempt at defiance will not just be ignored.  The day any of you can beat me in combat, you can take my place.  Until then, I expect my orders to be followed, is that understood?"

The large black-skinned man stood up.  Her head barely reached his chest, and he loomed over her, trying to intimidate her.  "Girl, I could flick you across the room without trying.  Get over yourself already and let the men handle things.  The military isn't just for you to get your kicks.  If you're looking for a husband, try someplace else, got it?"

"I see.  And you think that I'm not qualified for this position?"

"Seriously?"  The man looked over her head to his companions.

"Yeah, seriously.  Come on big guy," she taunted.  "You got a sword on.  Show me how tough you are.  Or do you just carry it to compensate for the lack of size elsewhere?"  Her eyes fell to his crotch.

"Girl, you couldn't handle this," he said, sliding his sword from the sheath.

"Try me."  She made no move for her weapons.  "You have my word there will be no disciplinary action against you... if you win."

He laughed and swung at her wildly.  Sal never moved, knowing he was simply trying to intimidate her.  His eyes flicked to hers and, for the first time, he realized that she might have some idea of what she was talking about.  That's when he began to try.

He charged, planning to shoulder her to the ground, but Sal hopped to the side at the last minute.  "You're as big as a bull.  Are you as slow as one?"

This time, when he moved toward her, he was more cautious.  Before he swung his blade, every muscle in the man's chest tensed, telegraphing his actions.  She stepped around him easily and swept his legs out from under him.  The soldiers in this country had never been taught proper hand to hand combat, and it showed.  The man hit the ground hard.  He jumped back to his feet almost instantly, his sword slicing at her midsection.  So he was tenacious. 

She ducked the blade and stepped back, giving him room to find his feet securely while making it look like a retreat.  Thinking he was winning, the monster of a man feinted high and swung low.  Sal moved.  She pulled one of her new swords with her left hand and swung it toward his neck.  As she stepped inside his reach, the other slid her steel knife from the sheath at her back.  The white edge of her sword stopped against his skin, pressing only hard enough to prove how easily she could open his throat.

"Believe me yet, boy?" she asked, the large man frozen against her blade.

"Yes, ma'am."  The first trace of respect could be heard in his voice.

"It's sir.  I'm a soldier just like any of you."  She smirked and looked down at her main hand.  "Just a bit better."

His gaze followed hers.  The curved steel knife waited millimeters from his groin.  Sal wiggled the blade enough to make the point.

"What are you?" he whispered.

"I am your Sergeant at Arms – Kaisae to most of you.  I am iliri, and I am a Black Blade," she said loudly to the men around her.  "Think of me as being on loan until we get the Anglian army into shape.  As it stands right now, my friend here," and she jerked her head at Hwa without removing the blade from the man's crotch, "could clear this room without panting."  She stepped away from the Anglian soldier and returned her weapons to their sheaths.  "You're all embarrassing.  Get your shit together and get the officer's asses out to the courtyard.  Now!"