Page 74 of Oathborn
Erik’s gaze flicked his way. “Bit nebby there, eh, Lieutenant?”
“Better to be nosy than to be from the Kevlaire province,” Tobias fired back, instantly recognizing the unique slang of the region. Steel mills and refineries dotted that hardscrabble province and those from it tended to have a certain amount of bristly confidence in all they did. He was unsurprised that it was Erik’s home.
“Look at you, a regular old encyclopedia,” Erik drawled, grinning. “Still. Nice to see you not stumbling over your feet and apologizing to us like a nervous maid. And yeah. The captain switched to the wimpy little Cobalts a few years back. Never told us why.”
“There’s nothing weak about what we do.” Tobias kept his voice level.
“You catch pickpockets and do paperwork. Biggest threat you’ve probably seen is a rabid dog.”
Tobias shook his head. “I survived a fae attack.”
“Liar.”
Tobias bit his lip. The attack was supposed to be classified. He shouldn’t have mentioned it, shouldn’t have assumed the Crimsons knew about it. “I’m not. Some cursed smoke hit us during the setup for an awards banquet. Left a lot of good men dead.”
“Oh yeah?’” Drace drawled. He didn’t sound surprised. Maybe the Crimsons had been briefed on the attack after all. “What did you do about it? Wave your hand at the smoke and make it disappear?”
Scowling, Tobias just gritted his teeth. They were right. He hadn’t done anything at all. The next time, when the fae attacked, he’d be ready. “I was unprepared.”
“So?” Erik asked. “You gonna fix that or whine about it?”
“I want to. That’s why I’m here.”
“Good. Match my pace and I’ll tell you some war stories. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”
Tobias grinned. Another quality most from Kevlaire had was a deep enjoyment of long-winded stories. For all Erik’s curtness otherwise, he was unable to resist a captive audience.
At dawn, they ate their dried rations and drank terrible instant coffee while checking over their weapons. It was a routine he had already begun to memorize. Wake with the gray light, pack swiftly, keep moving. Speak only when spoken to. As he trailed them through the undergrowth, he couldn’t help stealing glances at the men he admired.
Once they made camp, most squeezed in an hour of practice, either on drawing their rifles or boxing, or even a few would sword fight, their sabers clattering loudly against each other. Tobias watched them, noticing how they moved, more gracefully, more efficiently, than other soldiers. Some of their parries seemed unlike any he’d watched in any duel before. Their footwork was faster, sharper, the patterns hinted at knowledge far beyond what the academy offered. It struck Tobias these weren’t just elite, well-trained soldiers; they’d learned to fight an enemy unlike any human foe.
“You don’t have a sword?” Erik asked him. “Classic Karsici behavior.”
“What do you know about Karsic?”
“More than you probably know about Kevlaire. My ma’s from there. Whole side of her family in fact.” He jerked his head, telling Tobias to stand. “C’mon. We’ve got a spare and you could use the practice. Some day you might be in too close quarters for a pistol.”
“Really?”
“Is thatreallyto the close quarters or to the practice?” Erik arched an eyebrow. “I swear, kid. It’s like talking to my own brother. He went to the academy like you, and they took his common sense and replaced it with garbage. Book learning ain’t gonna save you from Blood Ember.”
No, but a certain book had taught him the fae words for Blood Ember. If he ever overheard fae whispering about their plans to deploy the monster, that knowledge could prevent a slaughter. Tobias used precious hours meant for sleep every night to try to consume more of the near-mythical language, enchanted by its flow, unusual verb conjugations, and unique nouns. What he’d do with the language, Tobias still wasn’t sure. Javen hadn’t returned for him to ask, nor did it seem any Crimson had learned any of the language.
“Is your brother a Cobalt officer too?” Tobias asked.
Erik shook his head. “My brother’s gone. Went AWOL a few weeks after Lochna. Don’t know if he’s alive. Can’t help hoping he is, as long as he stays far from me.” As a soldier, Erik would be duty-bound to report his brother’s act of deserting, a crime which even now could draw the death penalty.
After that night, which featured a short, brutal duel against Erik, the routine changed. For the next two days, Erik worked with him on sword skills, challenged him to box, and even, when they reached a larger clearing, tested Tobais’s marksmanship.
It was in that last area that Tobias finally got a chance to excel. He hit every hastily made target, no matter how small or far it was. Countless hours of hard work paid off.
“Well done,” Erik said. The nod of approval he offered felt as good as a trophy. “Let’s see if we can’t find some fae on this mission. Could be the first one to earn your Iron “Her life will be forfeit.” since the damned Accords.”
“Is there a chance of that?”
“Sure. We’ve been tracking multiple trails. Seems like two, maybe three scouting groups have left the isles. If we find one, keep your wits about you and you might end up one of us.”
In other words, if Tobias killed a fae, he’d be welcomed into the elite group he’d admired since he was a boy. Finally, he’d have made something of himself. He wouldn’t be a laughingstock to the other former cadets, wouldn’t just be some broke kid from Karsic.
