As we walk, the ground eventually starts to slope downward rather than up and the path narrows. Our pace slows as the army is forced to squeeze together. Not by much. Thomas, who I’m guessing is the overall commander, insists we make it out of the pass before nightfall and he must be pushing the knights harder than the poor creatures dragging along the laden down wagons, who have remained remarkably calm despite everything that’s happened. A titan drops in front of them? Don’t even raise their heads. And they’re strong. The acolytes need more breaks than they do. It’s impressive. I almost want to send a few to my father for the village. Too bad they’d cook under all that hair.

Alana is tense, head swiveling as she nervously scans the mountain faces. I’m more tense than her as I can hear the feasting murder birds behind us making a ruckus. It’d be worse than devastating if something decides to attack us right now. Given we’ve been attacked twice in two days, I wouldn’t say the odds are bad.

Thankfully, the saints are watching over us and nothing else disturbs us. The path eventually widens and deposits us onto flat land. Once the sky darkens, our progress comes to a halt and we make camp. The commanders enter a shouting match as they separate their forces. Come morning, the armies will go their separate ways and this campaign will truly begin.

But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, we work together, the knights setting up standing torches and arranging tents. For our people, the more experienced hunters are helping the acolytes, packing down the snow and having animated conversations as they pull out their camping supplies.

“Lou, have Geo feed our people. They’re exhausted and I need them at least in good spirits tomorrow when they watch the other armies disappear. Kii, scout the area. I want you to head back through the pass for five leagues and then do a circle around the camp. Keep a close eye on the ground. A lot of monsters in the north like to burrow, especially at night.”

“As you desire, commander,” Kierra says with more than a little amusement as she runs off.

“Anything for me to do?” I ask, having given instructions to my succubus.

“Come with me.”

I follow with mute interest as she moves through our rapidly forming camp. After a moment, I see she’s heading for the white tents with a yellow sun painted on the flaps. The emblem of the Order of Polar Duelists. Victory has many knight orders and each of them pursues a different purpose. The Duelists train for one purpose. To reach the strength required to take down titans. Fighters who specialize in “one and done” tactics. They are a critical component of any northern army so I’m not surprised she is looking to make nice after one of theirs put performed well.

Alana discretely peeks into the tents until she finds the one inhabited by a tired knight lying prone on a sleeping mat, the blonde young saint that is his heir kneeling at his side.

Lancecain looks up at our approach, standing to meet us. Alana respectfully backs away as the apprentice comes out, closing the tent flaps behind him. Guess he’s the protective type. “Commander.”

She winces. “You don’t need to use the title.”

He smiles. “I thought you would love the sound of it. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

If anyone else said that, those words would sound sarcastic, maybe even mocking. But this is Lancecain. I know he doesn’t mean anything by his questionable choice of phrasing.

Alana knows it too because her tone remains pleasant. “Yes, well. It’s mainly a concern for the rest of the army, not people I grew up with.”

“You are concerned about discipline.”

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She lets out an annoyed huff. “I wasn’t until people I didn’t choose got added to my ranks. No offense to your order or the others but your presence is unexpected.”

“I understand. Nothing irritates commanders more than someone messing with their plans.”

“Which is why it would be helpful to get a feel for my troops.” Oh hoh. I see what’s happening here. She’s tapping him for information. Or maybe asserting dominance? Reminding everyone who’s in charge before she takes charge tomorrow. “I want your people to talk to me.”

“We are in good shape. Master isn’t suffering any ill effects from his spell. He will be combat worthy by tomorrow, full capacity in two. He will never admit it but he should rest another day before doing any fighting though. The others are in good shape, ready for the next titan.”

“That’s good to hear. Make sure you get dinner. It’s not the usual army fare.”

After a little empty chatter, we move on. I’m not surprised as we make our way through the other orders. Each time, Alana calls out to someone and engages in what appears to be polite conversation. By the third conversation, I’m positive she’s asserting dominance. It’s more subtle than monsters roaring at each other or a pissing match but it’s unmistakable. It’s the Order of the Waking Beast that gives it away, the knight who speaks with Alana practically snapping out every word.

By the time our little tour ends, dinner is being served. I watch in amusement as the hunters crowd around the large fire Geneva is cooking over, shoveling food into their mouths as fast as their hands can move. I’m sure they’re not even chewing. Those who don’t have food are in line, the closest trying to start conversation with the beautiful cook. She’s handling the attention well so I direct Alana to set up our own shelter.

As we get our things settled and lay out our bedrolls, I become quite sure that Alana is nervous. Usually, when we’re alone, she relaxes, but there’s still tension in her shoulders and a frown on her face as she takes off her armor. Lying on my side with my head cradled by a hand, I watch her fuss with her equipment for a few minutes before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” she mutters, looking over her sword for the fourth time.

I purse my lips. Normally, this is where I would rush to tell her not to worry. That nothing can go wrong with our clan here to support her. But after fighting that titan, and knowing there are more out there, I can’t say that. The most I can guarantee is our lives. The success of this campaign? The lives of the people we’re leading into danger starting tomorrow? Not so certain about those anymore.

Two days here have been a…humbling experience.

But I can’t leave her fretting. “Shall I take a few stabs in the dark?” Her deep sigh only encourages me. “We’re not going to run into a mountain-size titan on our first day.”

“They don’t get that big,” she says distractedly.

“Are you worried about the knights acting out? They wouldn’t dare.” I think. If this were the capital, between our reputations and the power of her last name, no noble would have the courage to look her in the eye. The people of Victory are made of sterner stuff. I have no doubt they would rebel if they thought she wasn’t up to the job.

Oh. Is that it?

“You’re going to do fine in command.”

Her lips twitch. Got it.

“You’ve been preparing for this for years. You know what you’re doing. And since we’re not investigating the journal, there’s no pressure to do anything but kill a few monsters and go home whenever you want.”

“I’m not worried,” she mutters. She slides her sword back into its sheath and sets it aside.

She’s definitely worried.

“Uh-huh.”

“…I’m not worried about what I can do but the north is unpredictable,” she says after a long silence. “It’s not something that can be trained for, not really.”

I hold out my arms toward her. She ignores me so I let them drop with a huff. “We’re going to do everything we can.”

“Hopefully, it’s enough.”

She’s fussing with her helm when Kierra slips inside. “There are no threats nearby. A shame.”

“It’s not. It’s a very good thing,” Alana says, some of the tension leaving her body.

“Alana is nervous about taking command tomorrow.”

“Lou!”

“What?” If she’s not going to be honest with me, I’ll leave it to Kierra to drag it out of her.

As expected, the elf perks up at the words, eyes narrowing as she focuses on Alana. “Is that true?”

“I’m not nervous,” she quickly denies, looking very nervous as the elf stalks toward her. She scrambles backward until she reaches the wall of the shelter. Ah. So naive. Now there’s nowhere to go. Kierra corners her, dropping to her knees and pulling Alana into a hug. A hand strokes the tousled blond hair like she’s trying to soothe a child.

“Everything will be fine.”

There. Her voice is dripping with confidence I couldn’t muster. Is that experience? Or arrogance? Either way, as she continues stroking Alana’s head, her frown melts and she buries her nose in the prodigious chest she’s laying against.

Now I just have to make sure the north doesn’t make a liar out of my wife.