Page 44 of Kingdom of Darkness and Dragons
"By not slaughtering children, perhaps?" Jalend's voice was dangerously quiet now.
"Careful, Northreach," the second commander warned. "That kind of talk could be seen as sympathy for the enemy."
The tension around the table was thick enough to cut, and I decided I'd heard enough. But as I started to move away, Jalend's next words stopped me cold.
"What if we're wrong about all of this? What if the Talfen aren't the monsters we've been told they are?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Then the first commander laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humour.
"Getting cold feet, Northreach? Don't worry—once the killing starts, you'll remember why we're here. The Talfen showed their true nature at the festival. They're animals, and animals need to be put down."
I moved away before I could hear Jalend's response, but his questions echoed in my mind. There had been something in his voice—doubt, certainly, but also a kind of anguish that spoke of deeper knowledge. He knew something, I was certain of it. The question was what, and whether it would help or hurt us when the time came.
The rest of my reconnaissance painted a picture that filled me with dread. The Imperial force wasn't just large—it was supremely professional. These soldiers had trained together, fought together, bled together. They moved like parts of a single organism, responding to commands with instantaneous precision. Their equipment was the finest the Empire could provide, their tactics proven through generations of conquest.
Against such a force, what chance did the Talfen have? They were defending their homeland, yes, and that would count for something. But raw courage and righteous anger could only take you so far against superior numbers, better equipment, and decades of military experience.
I found myself thinking of Tarshi and Septimus, somewhere out there in the wilderness with whatever forces the Talfen had managed to assemble. Were they safe? Were they even still alive? The not knowing was its own special kind of torture.
By the time I made it back to our section of camp, full darkness had fallen. Cooking fires dotted the landscape like fallen stars, and the sounds of thousands of soldiers settling in for the night created a constant background murmur. I found Livia exactly where I'd left her, curled against Sirrax's side with her eyes fixed on the distant mountains.
"Learn anything interesting?" Antonius asked quietly as I settled beside him.
I glanced around to make sure we weren't being overheard, then leaned closer. "They're talking about shadow mages. Apparently the Talfen have them, and the Imperial command is worried."
Antonius raised an eyebrow. "Shadow mages?"
"Magic users who can manipulate darkness itself. The Empire supposedly wiped them out years ago, but there are reports of Imperial patrols disappearing without a trace." I kept my voicelow, mindful of the other soldiers nearby. "Could be our friends have more allies than we thought."
"Or could be wishful thinking," Antonius replied pragmatically. "What else?"
I sighed, the weight of what I'd observed settling on my shoulders. "This is a professional army, Antonius. Not garrison troops or green recruits—veterans. Disciplined, well-equipped, experienced. If the Talfen try to meet them in open battle..."
I didn't need to finish. Antonius understood military realities as well as I did.
"What about Jalend?" he asked after a moment.
I considered how to answer that. "He's... conflicted. I heard him questioning the whole campaign, asking if we might be wrong about the Talfen. The other commanders weren't pleased."
"That's something, at least."
"Is it?" I looked over at Livia, who was still staring into the distance with unseeing eyes. "Or is it just making everything harder for her?"
We sat in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Antonius spoke up.
"She's barely eaten today. Or yesterday, for that matter."
I'd noticed that too. Livia was running on nervous energy and stubbornness, pushing herself harder than anyone should in preparation for what was coming. But how did you tell someone to take care of themselves when the world was falling apart around them?
"We should talk to her," I said finally.
Antonius nodded, and together we approached where she sat. Sirrax's great head turned toward us as we drew near, those golden eyes seeming more alert than usual. Almost as if he was standing guard.
"Liv," I said softly, settling beside her. "You need to eat something."
"I'm not hungry," she replied without looking at us.
"That's not the point," Antonius said with characteristic bluntness. "You're going to need your strength for what's coming."
