Page 91 of War

Then again if I put it off, it might never find the courage to do this again.

I begin to head towards War’s tent, my heart in my throat.

The night is warm and still, and the sounds of camp surround me—the dull purr of torches, the distant bellows of laughter, the soft flutter of canvas. If our circumstances were different, these noises would be comforting.

God, am I really going to do this?

The phobos riders who are normally standing guard around the area are gone. I approach the tent, and from inside I hear several voices talking.

I hesitate, twisting my clammy fingers together, my breath coming too fast.

Now might really be a bad time for this.

The low murmur of the horseman’s voice drifts out from inside, and my stomach clenches.

I can still turn around. He would never know.

Be brave.

I pull the canvas flap aside just the smallest amount.

Inside, the horseman listens to his men as they strategize how to best invade Arish, the next city on his list apparently.

“The ocean blocks the city from the north, the desert from the south,” a phobos rider says. “We’re coming from the east, leaving civilians only true escape to the west. It might be best to split the army and come at it from both ends.”

I frown at the man talking. He’s speaking of how to best annihilate an entire city.

War studies the topography, his chest bare, his tattoos glowing like rubies.

“There’s also Highway 55 to think about,” a female soldier says, moving her finger over a section of the map. “It does lead to the desert, but if people are desperate enough, they will use it to flee south—”

A hand wraps roughly around my upper arm.

“Spying on the warlord?” a man growls from behind me.

I turn and catch sight of yet another one of the horseman’s phobos riders. Uzair I think his name is. He’s got an especially mean look about him.

He shoves me inside War’s tent. The horseman and the other soldiers look up at the commotion.

“I found your woman lingering outside the tent. She was listening to your plans,” Uzair says.

War’s eyes flick over me before moving to the man. “Go.”

The rider hesitates. Clearly, he thought he was going to get a pat on the shoulder for ratting me out.

He gives War a stiff bow and leaves.

The remaining soldiers are watching the horseman, waiting on his cue before they act.

War jerks his head towards the flaps of the tent. Wordlessly, the lot of them file out. As they go, most of them give me hard looks.

I haven’t earned any allies amongst his men.

The horseman stares at the tent flaps for several seconds even after everyone has left.

“If you wish to know my plans,” he finally says, “you only have to ask.”

War and I both know I’d only use the information to sabotage his efforts.

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