VI

Adrian stood at attention, his feet together, back straight and his fingers splayed over his heart in salute. The group of people in front of him were his commanding officers, men who would normally be stoic, but at this moment not a single one of them was looking particularly pleased, most of them were cursing under their breaths. His Father, a former High Hand and a current member of the Consul, sat presiding over the entire affair, his hands laced in front of him as he leaned forward in the chair, a deep red tone to his skin betraying the anger he was attempting to keep inside.

Adrian wondered if that was anger for him personally or if rather it was due because one of the military’s officers had been treated so poorly. Officers were almost always nobles, and there was an unspoken rule about the capture and treatment of nobility: if a nobleman were to die on the field of battle then they died honorably, and honor is everything for nobility. If you strip a nobleman of honor then there is only money, and anyone can get money given the proper circumstances.

Adrian had just finished telling them about the past five years of his life, making sure to give them as much detail as they could have ever wanted, going so far as to describe how he had had to drown a man in a river, though he had made sure to leave out Isi’s sorcery. People such as these would not hesitate to seize any advantage they could get their hands on, and he was going to be damned if she was going to be used as some sort of pawn. Isi had been standing at his side, not saluting but taking in the multitude of men and looking at each as though she was memorizing their faces, he was sure that she would be the topic of several pointed questions later, but not today.

“This is unacceptable,” Samlin Artins said, he was a High Commander, one of thirteen that were in control of Helheim’s legions, and one of the subordinates to the current High Hand who was himself second only to the emperor. He was ancient in terms of men in the army, his bald head shining in the gaslamp light of the meeting chamber like it had been polished to an immaculate sheen, he had long ago lost his teeth, the false bone ones looking odd with their unsoiled white and perfect shape. His long beard was elegantly combed and braided, giving the man an elderly grandpa look, but Adrian didn't wish to test this man, he was still an accomplished duelist despite his age, a fact he continued to demonstrate to any who wished to test his metal. “You must understand however there is a bigger issue than just the injustice done to you,” he folded his old wrinkled fingers, lacing them together in front of his face. “The military has its reputation to consider.”

Adrian felt his face darken, but the High-commander cut him off before he could bark his retort. “I understand your anger, in fact, I believe it is justified, we shall compensate you, we will be restoring your rank of Commander, give you back pay for ten years, and give you a list of assignments so that you may choose your own, is this sufficient?”

Adrian hadn't expected them to decide to go to war because he had been wronged. But he had expected some sort of response, as Samlin had said, the military had a reputation to uphold. He had expected some sort of inquiry, an investigation perhaps. Adrian glanced over at his father using only his eyes. His father’s face was impassive, and stoney, and by that, it was clear that he was quite upset. It was clear that no one was going to look into this, no one was going to investigate to see who had left Adrian’s name off of the ransom lists. This meant that they either already knew who had done it, or else they had some suspicions and that whoever it was was much more important than he. He tried to cast back and remember if there was anyone that he had offended, anyone of such power and means but he could think of none. His father on the other hand had almost more enemies in the courts of Helheim than he did on its battlefields. Perhaps the blow was not intended for him? Perhaps his years of torment were rather an attack directed at his father?

“What are you buying from me with that?” Adrian asked, he still stood at attention, but it was getting harder and harder to not simply turn and walk out, he had fallen out of practice, he had grown into the habit of refusing orders outright, and there had been many men who had attempted to order him around in the camps, he had made sure to teach them he was no one’s servant. Breaking an arm or some other limb here, however, was not the best way of going about this.

“Buying?” Talmen asked, who was another High Hand, but he was slightly lower on the pecking order than Samlin. “We are buying nothing, we are simply informing you that you will be compensated for the injustice done to you.”

“The rise in rank seniority will be made official later today, and the assignments for you to choose from will be delivered to the Officers lounge shortly. Please consider your decision carefully,” Samlin said. “You are dismissed.” finishing his salute Adrian turned on his heel sharply, feeling the anger building in his chest. “Oh,” Adrian paused and turned back to look at the Consul of men, each of them dressed immaculately in the uniforms of their office.

“Yes, sir?”

“If anyone asks, you were on a special request mission for the past five years, and are not at liberty to discuss any part of it.” Adrian felt his lips tighten into a demeaning smirk.

“Is that an order sir?”

“Yes.”

“Very good Sir.” Adrian nodded and strode out of the room, the clipped clack of his booted heels on the smooth floor the only sound in the entire room…

***

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Commander.

It was strange, Adrian had always been proud of his rank, something that he had earned himself, not been given because of his father, it had always been his, and every rank he achieved in the military used to make his heart swell with pride, but this time…

He had been a commander before, he had led men and had known the difficulties and challenges that rank had held but it had always filled him with pride, now that he was a commander again he felt…

Hollow.

That was the only way he could describe it, he felt hollow like he had lost something when he had gained this rank. He sighed and looked down at the twelve files he had laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He was currently sitting in the officer’s lounge, which was a large and lavishly decorated lounge indeed, several enclaves of seats and chairs surrounded tables, and cabinets of liqueur and alcohol lined the walls. Slowly he reached for the first file again and pulled it closer to him. He had already gone over each and everyone over the past hour or so. Most of them were cozy jobs, jobs that had him commanding small amounts of units in backwoods areas that would see little to no action. He was starting to feel like either he had been the one targeted, unlikely, or, by now as he was coming to believe, they were trying to hide him away out of sight and out of mind to protect his father, from who or what he did not know but anything involving Helheim politics was something Adrian very much wanted nothing to do with.

In other words, they were putting him somewhere he couldn't be a nuisance.

He knew part of that was due to his rash striking of a member of the Consul, Father or not, that had been crossing a line that they had chosen to somewhat overlook, the other part could be an attempt to protect someone. Still, though, he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions. He flipped the folder open and looked at the contents, reading the report and bringing up a mental map of the region his command would be in. If he was correct then this one was one of the few that he would not be sidelined. Or rather he would, but if war were to happen then he would be on the front lines.

The area around Bronsville was swamplands, an impassable marsh that bordered the Kurtz empire for a stretch of almost fifty miles, and while it would be impractical to march an army through there it wouldn’t be impossible…

The question is did he want to go back to the front lines?

Adrian glanced at Isi, who was examining each and every glass bottle, opening them and sniffing the contents. He wondered what was best for her. If he went back to the front lines he could leave her here, give her enough money to live happily for quite some time, and…

And what?

She was a stranger in these lands, she refused to communicate with anyone except him, a trait he had often wondered if it was her way of coping with the trauma she had endured. She would spend many lonely years here, surely she didn't want that…

Slowly he placed the folder down and picked up the next he was about to open it when her hand pushed it back down. He glanced up, wondering briefly when she had stopped looking at the glasses and came to his side, slowly she picked up the first and handed it to him. “We don't want this one,” he shook his head, but she wouldn't let him place it back down on the table.

“Nintah takchi pa,” she said.

“We don't need it, we don't need it or want it, this puts us back on the border, back to where we can be captured by the Kurtz, I don't know about you, but I have no desire to go back to a workcamp, I don't think I could survive it.”

“Ish takchi pa,” she pointed at his chest making sure to punctuate each word with a jab of her finger.

“Do I now?” he looked skeptically at her, “You do know this one is in a marsh, a hell hole of misery, the commanding officer has been requesting a transfer for the past year and a half but no one wants to take his command, the men under him are the dregs of the army...” she simply shrugged at that.

“Ish takchi pa,” she repeated.

Did he? Did he need this? What could he get out of it? This was by far the least appealing option he had been given, a command with a group of men that no one else wanted in a location that was only on the border of the country's most hated enemy. That last point was one that stuck out the most, it was on the Helheim border, if something did happen he would be the first line of defense against any invaders…

And it was the only command that would be well and truly his own, far away from his father and any influence his family had, meaning everything he did would be his own achievement. And the assignment was only for the next year, perhaps a year was enough to help him cool down some…

“Ita via palnor.”

“The hell you are, I am not dragging you to a battlefield with me!” he snarled, “you are going to stay here, safe and far from the Kurtz, am I clear?” she crossed her arms, her face growing stony as she leaned back and regarded him.

“Kiyo.”

“No?” he asked, leaning forward dangerously, his eyes narrowed at her. “No, what?” his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Kiyo, ita via palnor.”

“And I refuse, I believe I have already told you that I wasn't going to do that.”

“Itchu ita norma?”

“No, I would not be leaving you behind, I would be placing you somewhere safe, there is a large difference between the two! Besides I can't take an unmarried woman into a military camp, that is simply asking for trouble.”

“Itu chia milusrti intori?”

He froze, his eyes slowly looking up at her. “So, it’s come to that then has it?” she nodded, holding out her wrist as if she simply expected him to make a jeweled band appear out of thin air for her. “Fine, but you have to realize there are customs I have to follow, traditions, and the like? People need to be informed and- ”She waved him off like it was some trivial concern before the biggest smile he had ever seen her had broken out across her face.

“Ish tuka falaya lawa.” she laughed.

“In my defense, there was no real chance to even think about that in that camp,” Adrian retorted. “Took me long enough, huh?” he muttered under his breath. Isi just started laughing, a sweet ringing sound that seemed to echo through the hall, seeming to make everything brighter despite the gloomy day outside.

’Oh Father is going to love this..’ Adrian chuckled to himself darkly…