Page 20 of The Turncoat King

“Luc Franck.” One of the other soldiers twisted around to look at them. “The Commander?”

“Some people call me that.” Luc took his bowl to the pot sitting over the fire and spooned in some thick, fragrant porridge.

“Wasn’t there something to do with you and Avasu last night?” The woman who’d handed them the bowls asked.

They had everyone’s attention now. Even people who weren’t sitting around the campfire.

“Ava . . . su and I escaped the Kassian together. We have known each other for some time.” That was a lie, they’d known each other less than a week, as his lieutenants were quick to point out, but it had been enough for him.

Enough for her, too.

He smiled at the thought.

“She walked away without winning her fight when she saw you.” The soldier who spoke sounded grumpy. “I had a lot bet on that fight.”

“She didn’t lose it, though.” Dak spoke for the first time. “Or do you consider someone leaving the ring as a concession to defeat?”

They started discussing the rules of the sparring ring, and decided because it had simply been a friendly sparring match, a training exercise, and Ava had been interrupted by someone of much higher rank, perhaps it was a draw, and they could organize a rematch.

They seemed to be a lot more cheerful by the end of the conversation.

“How did Avasu come to be captured by the Kassian with you?” the soldier who’d recognized his name suddenly asked.

“I think that is hers or the general’s story to tell, not mine.” His words caused sidelong looks. He finished his breakfast and crouched by the small barrel of water placed beside the fire for clean-up, rubbed it clean with the cloth, took Dak’s and cleaned his, too, and then rose up.

“We’ll see you later at the Rising Wave,” Luc said to the group. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

The men and women responded with enthusiasm, and Luc walked away, pleased with the camaraderie he sensed.

“The general may have been right about Ava’s ability to tie the two columns together. I thought that was the weakest of the reasons she gave last night, but seeing what happened over breakfast, I think she was right.” Dak buttoned up his jacket, and for the first time since last night, Luc relaxed.

Things would be all right.

His friends were his family. They had gone through more together than anyone should, and they had come out of it stronger and closer. He had fought for them over and over.

For them to turn their back on him because of his love for Ava would be very hard to accept.

* * *

Ava boundoff the thread and tugged it tight.

“What’s that?” Tras, the guard on duty with her, had gotten used to her working on something as they waited for the lieutenants to come to them with their orders for the day.

“A gift for the Skäddar.” An apology, really. For leaving him in the middle of a fight. She smoothed it over the saddle leather in front of her, and eyed it critically.

“Those are the patterns on his face along the bottom edges.” Tras nudged his horse closer to look more carefully. “Is that a scarf?”

“It gets cold in Skäddar.”

Tras made a non-committal sound beside her and she realized the wait for the lieutenants was over. They were approaching. She folded the thin, soft scarf in half, rolled it up tight and shoved it into her jacket pocket before she raised her eyes to greet Raun-Tu and Heival.

They were watching her with interest.

“You don’t sew while you’re on watch, do you?” Heival asked.

“Only while I’m waiting for orders, or when I’m on my own time.”

Raun-Tu gave a grunt of dismissal, uninterested in her embroidery. “You were a spy for the general.”

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