Terce, Seventeen Day Before the Kalends of June

Unnamed Quarry, Eastpoint, Bahim, Drum

“Sixty-eight men, Captain,” said Brendan Garth. The scar that covered the left side of his face twitched as he spoke.

“Sixty-eight…” said Hazel. She was sitting with her back against Brendan.

“Seventeen have deserted,” said Brendan. “And —”

“Fifty-six killed,” said Hazel. She knew each of their names.

“Yes, Captain,” said Brendan.

When Hazel did not say anything in reply, Brendan bowed and left. Hazel buried her face in her hands. Having lost Larkins, the revolutionaries once again occupied only Eastpoint. She did not need to use Connexion to know that Keys would send Marrow to wipe out Eastpoint in the coming days. Hazel bit her bottom lip until it bled. Logan Floyd was coming. She would convince him to fight for them. She had to. A drop of blood trickled down her chin and fell onto her knees. She looked down at the stain. She felt a deep feeling of unrest. Since when had she felt queasy at the sight of blood? It had started during their retreat from Larkins. She was fighting off Marrow at the tail of her retreating men when she stumbled over the body of a fallen revolutionary. She looked down at the body. Its abdomen was splayed open. She could see the man’s spinal column. In this moment of hesitation, Marrow hurled a ball of poison towards her. Another revolutionary, a seventeen-year-old girl, Mary, jumped in front of Hazel. The ball of poison burned right through her chest. “Captain!” Brendan cried. Only then did Hazel tear her gaze away from the dead man and attempted to send rechallis towards Marrow. She formed the first one with a shaking hand but the second one did not form. Marrow blocked the challis with ease. Hazel could not focus. She was now looking down at the body of the seventeen-year-old girl who had died for her. Brendan Garth stepped forth in front of her. “Go, Captain,” he said. “No,” she said. Marrow sent two more balls of poison. Brendan Garth blocked the first but the second found its mark on the left side of his face. Brendan cried out. Hazel cried out too, in rage and horror. She leapt forward and sent a challis laden with burning light. Marrow attempted to block it with Barrier Connexion but the challis broke through and Marrow was sent hurling backwards. “Do not worry about me, Captain,” said Brendan. “We must go.”

Remembering the way Brendan’s lips trembled as he said this, the left side of his face melting away, Hazel could not help but let out a grunt. Tears began falling from her face, washing away the blood from her lips.

“Oh…” said Hazel.

And now she was weeping, her shoulders racking.

“Oh,” she said. “I simply wanted to save you all.”

No, she could not save anyone. She remembered, with devastating clarity, the serious face of Jerome.

“Jerome…” said Hazel.

“Hazel?” said a voice from behind her.

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She turned. It was Logan Floyd.

Another Chamber in the Unnamed Quarry

Kate Rinehart was drinking with three revolutionaries: Damien, Yidd Geraldson, and Kimberley Jones. They were drinking wine from Tarrin, the type that has warmth that reaches to one’s soul.

“On surviving Larkins,” Damien said, raising his glass.

“On surviving Larkins,” the others said, laughing. Then they all drank.

Brendan Garth was passing by when he saw this. He stopped at the entrance of the chamber. Kate saw him and returned his cold stare with bared teeth. “What do you want, Garth,” she said.

Brendan Garth opened his mouth as if to say something, then decided against it and walked away.

Kimberley Jones made a disapproving sound, shaking her head.

“Captain’s new favourite,” said Yidd.

“I miss Jerome,” said Kate, taking another long draught.

At the mention of Jerome’s name there was a brief moment of silence.

“Jerome was a good man,” said Damien. “A little serious at times, but good nonetheless.”

“He saved my life at Tarrin,” said Kimberley.

Yidd laughed nervously. It had been no secret since the mercenary days that Kimberley was in love with Jerome. Seeing that Kimberley was about to begin weeping, Yidd changed the topic.

“So you bring the Logan Floyd here, eh?” he said.

“I do,” said Kate.

“What does Captain want with him,” said Damien, picking at a dent on the boulder on which he was sitting, seemingly uncaring that his bruised hands were bleeding all over it.

Kate stared at the dark red drops of blood. “A new Vice-Captain, I suppose,” she said.

Kimberley Jones once again made that disapproving sound.

“We do not want helia leading us,” said Damien. He stopped picking at the boulder.

“I, too, am helia,” said Kate.

“But you are for us,” said Yidd.

“That Logan boy is afraid,” said Kimberley. “We have no place for cowards.”

“You are for us,” said Yidd again.

“That I am,” said Kate.

“You are,” said Yidd, nodding gravely. “You saved my life.”

“Your life?” said Kate.

“In Larkins, as we were retreating, you caught an arrow in your wrist,” said Yidd, nodding at Kate’s bandaged wrist. Kate looked down at it as if seeing it for the first time. “That arrow would have gone through my skull had you not caught it.”

The others nodded in eager agreement. Kate looked into Yidd’s eyes with an ambiguous smile.

“You do not look convinced,” said Yidd.

“I do not fight for others,” said Kate. “I fight for myself. I do not fight for a cause. I fight for the fight itself.”

Yidd furrowed his eyebrows, as if genuinely troubled by this statement.

“No,” he said at last. “One fights for love.”

“Love?” said Kimberley, and gave a short crackle.

“I am not ashamed of love,” said Yidd. “It is love I feel every day, when I open my eyes and see my wife sleeping beside me. When I step out and see my children playing. When I see the sun and gentle winds.”

“You have read too much Lender-Wynn,” said Kate. Lender-Wynn was a philosopher who wrote on love some five decades ago.

Yidd did not know who Lender-Wynn was, but continued nevertheless. “You can choose love, in any moment,” he said. “Look, I see my fellow brothers and sisters, and I could feel disdain. I could feel jealousy. I step out onto the battlefield and I could choose to feel hatred for the enemy or fear for my life. But I choose love.”

Damien smiled at Kate. She could not tell whether the smile was sharing or mocking Yidd’s sentimentality.

“Love must be sought,” said Yidd.

All three of them looked at Kate. She nodded slowly. She did not smile, like Damien. Nor did she furrow her eyebrows, like Yidd. “Yidd —,” she said, but then Hazel Drina entered the chamber. They all turned to look at her. Yidd and Damien slid their bottles behind them, but Kimberley raised her bottle and said, “Captain, try some —”, then stopped when she saw Logan Floyd behind Hazel.

“He does not wish to fight with us,” said Hazel. If she was angry, she did not show it, but her eyes were still red from her weeping earlier.

Kate stood up and let out a long sigh of rage. Logan calmly met Kate’s fiery gaze.

“I have a job for him,” said Hazel.

Kimberley spat onto the ground.