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> I awoke to the sound of knocking on the door. Something so disturbing the low flame candle on my bed counter slipped and ceased. I turned my head to the window, a blue morning haze outside. I rubbed my eyes, sniffed, rubbed my face and started for the door. Dragging myself, practically, with one of my shoes clinging to my heels and never quite fitting right. I stepped down. Locked it in place. Opened the door. One of the new Crows, waiting with his hand to his head in salute.
> “What?” I asked.
> “Sir. It’s today.” He said.
> “Yeah. I know. I’ve got two hours left.”
> “Sir, you’re vice captain.”
> “Yeah. Go bug the actual one.” I closed the door on him.
> Started my way back to bed, it’d been so long since I slept. Just feeling the warmth of the covers had me laying back down. How many nights had I been out, planning and thinking and measuring. How much money did I have to give to convince one of them. You see, the problem was simple. Juna and her children had come from the northern side of the eastern line, far above where the trench line had been formed. The merchants were heading towards the South, to those integral (still being held) lands of Xanthus. She wanted to go there, without suspicion, without the border stopping her. Her and those two children she’d saved.
> I hadn’t even found out who the boy was. Perhaps it didn’t matter. She wanted out, back to her home. A traversal I could only meet her halfway. And I’d spent the last couple of nights forming the plan, convincing one of the merchants to take in the stranger. To call her a work hand and to allow her to occupy one of the carts.
> That’s how it’d gone so far, at least.
> I blew my nose, laid my head to rest and settled before…another knock on the door.
> “What?” I shouted at the door. The shadows below the frame moving in place.
> “Sir.” The boy said.
> “Yeah.”
> “I can’t leave without you.”
> “Why’s that?”
> “Vicentius told me I can’t-”
> “Tell him to wait.” I turned to my side.
> The door knob opened. A key stuck in the hole, the boy looked straight into the room, a little fidgety. His eyes skittering all over the place.
> “Who gave you that key?”
> “Vicentius did.” He said. “Sir, he wants you.”
> I looked up. The covers halfway up to me, blanket to my waist and eyes bloodshot. Just one good nights sleep. Anything to get rid of the heaviness.
> “Alright.” I sighed.
>
>
>
>
> I marched through the morning desert. A tea shop set up near the campsite. I grabbed a cup from the table and flicked a coin his way, he fumbled to catch it. Inside the cup, a cinnamon stick and large portion of some type of tea. It seemed ruby red, and inside my reflection looked back. I spun the surface of the cup with the cinnamon stick and wandered inside feeling the bite of the drink make me jump.
> “Look who’s up early.” Kal said. He was fitting armor onto a horse, pleated steel coming down the sides like drapes.
> I groaned, walked past. A blacksmith hammered a steel edge into a wooden pole. The sounds of war began here. With the sound of metal shavings and the flurry of hammer strikes across the metal.
> I observed for a moment, a dagger being hardened from molten steel. Formed into a cast and dropped into oil. The oil sputtering, the blade coming up smoking and warped. The blacksmith inspected it, spinning the weapon in place with his tongs. He shook his head and took it to the anvil. I inspected my own daggers. Flimsy things now, jagged and without edge. Chipped, nicked, saw-like. The blade I’d taken from Gebralto and another spare Sylas had given me. Two simple daggers that had carried me throughout this journey. Without maker or designer. They wore their wear well.
> I cracked my neck and looked around. Vincent stood a top a platform, stepping on it and pointing his fingers at the edges where one of the planks seemed finicky. A young man shook his head and slotted a nail. Vincent jumped. Said no, and pointed at another spot. A large square platform. For something?
>
> This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
>
> I approached, finishing my drink and throwing the cup to the side into sand. Cool desert before us. A lizard stuck his face out from the side of a rock and pointed it towards the sun.
> “You called?” I asked. “I say I still had a good halfday before I needed to get up.”
> “You’ll be lucky if you even survive the next few hours.” Vincent jumped down.
> “What?”
> “You’ve been talking to the orphan head, haven’t you?” He asked. “What’s her name, Julep?”
> “Juna.”
> I clenched my fist.
> “Juna.” He nodded his head. “Care to share who she is?”
> “Just a stranger I met.”
> “You spent a day with her.”
> “Here’s a better question, how do you know?” I asked.
> Vincent rubbed the soles of his feet down into the ground.
> “I know everything that moves in this camp.”
> “Do you?”
> “You need to stop.” He said. “And focus on the mission.”
> “They’re kids. It’s a fucking torture chamber in there-”
> “Virgil.” Vincent said. “You are mine. To do as needed, when needed. Who rescued you?”
> I tilted my head. He walked forward and I stepped back, his eyes focused and face wooden with some kind of anger.
> “I am the man who rescued you and I will be the man to rescue this shithole.” He said. “I understand, completely, what kind of suffering this woman may be under. What the children suffer. But little escapades like you’ve been doing are not a solution.”
> “What is then?”
> “Mine becoming king.” Vincent said. “Because only I am fit to lead this nation. I will join the senate. I will conquer Xanthus. I will reign over the land and I will be equitable to the people. The Kavarians will be shown mercy. The peasants will be granted education. The roads will be fixed, trade and its profits will be distributed amongst the population who thirsts.”
> “And they will thank you. And build statues of you.”
> “If I’m lucky, certainly.” Vincent said. “The Solarus family will rule again and the people will come to love it.”
> My eyes narrowed.
> “This - I…I know you’ve hinted and talked about it. But that’s so far into the future, Vincent. I can’t just wait and idle as the people die around us.” I said. “These kids barely have anything. This woman is trying her best to take care of them, and if we don’t help them.”
> “She’s taking all of them with her?” He asked.
> “Well, no. But some. Most. The ones who are native to the east at least…”
> “And the rest?” Vincent asked.
> “She says she knows some places to take them in. Lighten the load, spread the burden-”
> “This woman is out for herself.” Vincent said. “Same as Xanthus.”
> “Same as you.” I said.
> The horses dragged behind me. Men holding giant wooden planks walked carefully, two men balancing them as they headed towards a little spot in the sand where the construction of the platform continued. Another man put all his grit into stuffing canvas into and around a horse. Then Vincent glared. And it was like every mode of animation ceased. The birds themselves, perched along the crooked posts and wooden frames of the city. They fled. The men turned around, necks cranking barely to observe. Vincent lowered his head, eyes going dead for a moment.
> “I will tell you now. Misfortune awaits you if you help that woman. If you even try.” Vincent said.
> “From you? You’re going to kill me?”
> “No.” He nodded. “Just call it intuition. Leave her in this city. We set for the road later today. Get ready and get your head straight.”
> He turned and left, his cape drifting, his feet dragging. Spurs along his metal sabatons rattling off as he made his way back to the construction workers. I cracked my fingers and stretched my neck, the tension growing along the back of my head. A knot in my shoulder seemingly turning. I breathed out heavy and looked up. Clear skies with no clouds. A dark blue giving to proper, early morning blue.