Page 31 of Oathborn
“Oh, right,” Tobias drawled, his accent even heavier than usual. Anger always brought out the Karsic blood in him. “Droughts forbid you tell me what sort of work though, right?” Because Javen had so many maps and notes and secrets, and Tobias had nothing to do but make sandwiches and wait.
“Follow me.” Javen tugged open the door and strode outside.
Tobias rubbed his sweaty palms on his coat. “So, where exactly are we headed?”
“The Prime Minister’s residence.”
Tobias stopped, halfway across the road. “We can’t just barge into the Prime Minister’s residence! There will be appointments to make, paperwork to fill out. There’s bureaucracy! A whole Cabinet of Ministers to deal with first.”
“Perhaps.”
Tobias figured he knew Javen pretty well—or as well as anyone could get to know someone with the same personality as a pebble stuck in a boot—and that sounded like agreement. So, he said it again, “Bureaucracy.”
A barely perceptible smile flickered across Javen’s face.
“So, how about we get a hot breakfast first?” Tobias said. “You can fill me in on whatever you were up to and—”
Instead of listening, Javen had been writing in a small notebook. He ripped the page off and said, “Send a telegram to the hospital, and one to Central Command, to have soldiers sent there to question Miss Ankmetta. Then secure two motorbikes, fueled and fully equipped from the quartermaster. Finally, take this,” He tore the paper off. “And request another telegram to be sent directly to Commander Lockwood. Afterward, you will—”
Tobias didn’t take the paper. “You know, I could help a lot more if you’d let me know what’s going on. I could have ideas! Good ones.” The words tumbled out recklessly. Tobias’s blood froze. He’d been an idiot. He was going to lose his position, maybe even his life.
Javen’s teeth flashed in a wolfish smile. “Very well. Choose.”
“What?” Choose how he was supposed to die?
“Choose the priority of the tasks or suggest one of these so-called impressive ideas you have.”
Tobias blinked twice but found his head still attached to his neck. “I’ll go to the hospital myself.” Tobias said. “And after that, you and I will eat breakfast.”
“Oh?” Javen’s blue eyes lit, changing his whole expression. How old was the man, anyway? Twenty-five? Forty-five? Tobias had never bothered to ask. The captain seemed like the sort who had acted like a grumpy old man since he’d been born, despite his natural good looks. Tobias had seen a few women get all flustered when Javen glanced their way, which baffled him. Why be interested in a man who was both married and miserable, when there were plenty of handsome men like Tobias, who were singleandcharming?
Still. Maybe he should find out how old his commanding officer was, in an effort to learn more about him. It might even give him some answers about the mystery swirling around Javen, the drawing of the woman, the surveillance by a stranger.
That thought led directly into Tobias’s ramble. “Yes. That’s my good idea. A meal together. We’ve gotta have each other’s backs. Get to know each other with small talk, you know. Genuine conversation.”
As Javen started to walk, he tossed his cigarette over a shoulder. “You get one question, then we eat in silence.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait.” So many questions swirled around. Where did he go when he wasn’t working? What was his family like? Did he have kids? A secret lover? Any hobbies?
Still thinking, Tobias scanned the note Javen expected him to have telegrammed to the Lord Commander Samuel Lockwood, Minister of Defense. It was short, to the point, and utterly baffling.
Samuel. Prepare Crimsons for northern-bound action.
The Crimsons were the Rhydonian military’s special operations group. What made Javen think he could ask for helpanduse the Minister of Defense’s first name?
A second thought hit him. Javen hadn’t bothered to use a code. He didn’t care that Tobias knew. Unless…
“You’re leaving the capital,” Tobias said, his hopes rising. “This mission. With the Crimsons, and Lockwood. Am I coming with you?”
“Provided you do not wish to be reassigned,” Javen replied. “Your question, then?”
A thrill of excitement ran down his spine. Nowthiswas what he’d hoped for. Not only a chance to prove himself to Javen, but to make a difference. If the mission was important enough to require aid from the Crimsons, then surely it was a matter of national security.
Tobias was finally leaving the capital, heading out on a dangerous task. Not just running errands or reading reports. He’d have to pack. Find someone to water his plants. Get a good, hearty meal in him before they were living off military pre-packaged rations.
His stomach rumbled. Despite the more important questions, with that racing through his mind, Tobias could only blurt out, “What’s your favorite food?”
“Oatmeal.”
