between them, and several dragons flew above
in patrol. If the ruins bustled with workers, here there were only
fighters. These men did not wield hammers and chisels, but swords
and shields.
Frey
is mustering a new army here, Erry thought. Green
recruits used to train in this forest clearing. Now Castra Luna will
house seasoned warriors to fight the Resistance. She gripped her sword. And
I will fight with them.
The
tents displayed the banners of their phalanxes. Erry saw sigils of
wolves, lions, dragons, swords, and many others. Each phalanx had
two tents to its name: one large tent for the common soldiers, one
smaller one for its commanding officer. After walking through the
camp for several moments, Erry saw two tents bearing Tilla's
banners—a cannon overlooking the sea.
When she walked closer, Erry saw
the phalanx training in the dirt outside. A hundred perivas and
corelis—younger soldiers sporting only one or two stars—stood in
black steel, swinging swords. The clashing blades rang. A hulking
siragi—an older, gruffer soldier with three stars upon his
armbands—was moving between the lower ranks, barking at soldiers to
correct their stances and thrusts.
Behind the troops, upon a
boulder, stood Lanse Tilla Siren.
Erry's heart skipped a beat.
Stars ,
she thought and felt herself pale.
She hadn't seen Tilla in six
moons, not since the battle here. But Tilla looked like she'd aged
six years. Soldiers like Erry wore breastplates, vambraces, and
greaves over tan leggings and tunics. Tilla now wore the full plate
suit of an officer; the steel covered her from toes to shoulders,
perfectly molded to her body. Her pauldrons displayed red
spirals—the insignia of command. She did not bear the simple sword
of a common soldier anymore, but a fine weapon with a dragonclaw
pommel.
Upon her hip, she bore a
punisher. Erry gulped. The wounds across her, those her former
officer had given her, blazed anew. Did Tilla too punish soldiers
with this weapon of lightning and pain? Erry remembered how Lanse
Nairi had nearly killed Tilla with her punisher. Did Tilla herself
now torture others?
But worse than the punisher was
Tilla's face. Erry felt ice fill her belly. Tilla had always seemed
pale and aloof, but this… this was different.
No color touched Tilla's face
now; she could have been carved from marble. No emotion or life
filled her eyes. As she stared upon her troops training, her eyes
were dead. Cold. Hard as stone.
She
looks like that statue of Frey that stands in Cadport, Erry thought and shivered. She
seems just as cold and cruel. Stars, what happened to her at Castra
Academia? How, in only six moons, did they freeze her eyes?
When Erry stepped closer to the
phalanx, Tilla turned those cold eyes toward her, and their gazes
locked.
Erry smiled and waved, expecting
Tilla to smile too, to greet her, maybe even to rush forward and
embrace her. But still no emotion filled those dark eyes. Erry
didn't even see a flicker of recognition within them. Her heart
sank.
Stars,
doesn't she remember me?
Then
Erry realized: Of course! Of course Tilla could not rush toward
her, embrace her, or even acknowledge her. She was leading her own
phalanx now! She had to act aloof. She had to be strong like Nairi
had been. But it was all an act for her soldiers. It had to be.
Erry sucked in her breath,
slammed her fist against her chest, and called out.
"Hail the red spiral! I am
Periva Erry Docker. I report to duty." She raised her scroll.
"I've come from Castra Lan. I'm to serve in the Sea Cannons."
Tilla's eyes narrowed the
slightest bit, a movement so subtle Erry wasn't sure it even
happened.
For the first time, Tilla spoke.
"Step forward, periva.
Hand me that scroll."
Stars! Erry thought. Tilla's voice was even colder than her eyes. It
didn't even sound human; it was the voice of a statue. Erry gulped,
suddenly not sure this was an act at all. Briefly, she wondered if
she had even found the right officer. Was this truly
in patrol. If the ruins bustled with workers, here there were only
fighters. These men did not wield hammers and chisels, but swords
and shields.
Frey
is mustering a new army here, Erry thought. Green
recruits used to train in this forest clearing. Now Castra Luna will
house seasoned warriors to fight the Resistance. She gripped her sword. And
I will fight with them.
The
tents displayed the banners of their phalanxes. Erry saw sigils of
wolves, lions, dragons, swords, and many others. Each phalanx had
two tents to its name: one large tent for the common soldiers, one
smaller one for its commanding officer. After walking through the
camp for several moments, Erry saw two tents bearing Tilla's
banners—a cannon overlooking the sea.
When she walked closer, Erry saw
the phalanx training in the dirt outside. A hundred perivas and
corelis—younger soldiers sporting only one or two stars—stood in
black steel, swinging swords. The clashing blades rang. A hulking
siragi—an older, gruffer soldier with three stars upon his
armbands—was moving between the lower ranks, barking at soldiers to
correct their stances and thrusts.
Behind the troops, upon a
boulder, stood Lanse Tilla Siren.
Erry's heart skipped a beat.
Stars ,
she thought and felt herself pale.
She hadn't seen Tilla in six
moons, not since the battle here. But Tilla looked like she'd aged
six years. Soldiers like Erry wore breastplates, vambraces, and
greaves over tan leggings and tunics. Tilla now wore the full plate
suit of an officer; the steel covered her from toes to shoulders,
perfectly molded to her body. Her pauldrons displayed red
spirals—the insignia of command. She did not bear the simple sword
of a common soldier anymore, but a fine weapon with a dragonclaw
pommel.
Upon her hip, she bore a
punisher. Erry gulped. The wounds across her, those her former
officer had given her, blazed anew. Did Tilla too punish soldiers
with this weapon of lightning and pain? Erry remembered how Lanse
Nairi had nearly killed Tilla with her punisher. Did Tilla herself
now torture others?
But worse than the punisher was
Tilla's face. Erry felt ice fill her belly. Tilla had always seemed
pale and aloof, but this… this was different.
No color touched Tilla's face
now; she could have been carved from marble. No emotion or life
filled her eyes. As she stared upon her troops training, her eyes
were dead. Cold. Hard as stone.
She
looks like that statue of Frey that stands in Cadport, Erry thought and shivered. She
seems just as cold and cruel. Stars, what happened to her at Castra
Academia? How, in only six moons, did they freeze her eyes?
When Erry stepped closer to the
phalanx, Tilla turned those cold eyes toward her, and their gazes
locked.
Erry smiled and waved, expecting
Tilla to smile too, to greet her, maybe even to rush forward and
embrace her. But still no emotion filled those dark eyes. Erry
didn't even see a flicker of recognition within them. Her heart
sank.
Stars,
doesn't she remember me?
Then
Erry realized: Of course! Of course Tilla could not rush toward
her, embrace her, or even acknowledge her. She was leading her own
phalanx now! She had to act aloof. She had to be strong like Nairi
had been. But it was all an act for her soldiers. It had to be.
Erry sucked in her breath,
slammed her fist against her chest, and called out.
"Hail the red spiral! I am
Periva Erry Docker. I report to duty." She raised her scroll.
"I've come from Castra Lan. I'm to serve in the Sea Cannons."
Tilla's eyes narrowed the
slightest bit, a movement so subtle Erry wasn't sure it even
happened.
For the first time, Tilla spoke.
"Step forward, periva.
Hand me that scroll."
Stars! Erry thought. Tilla's voice was even colder than her eyes. It
didn't even sound human; it was the voice of a statue. Erry gulped,
suddenly not sure this was an act at all. Briefly, she wondered if
she had even found the right officer. Was this truly
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