A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) by Daniel Arenson Page A

Tilla or simply
somebody who looked like her?
    Erry stepped forward and held
out her scroll.
    Everybody was watching them, she
realized. The soldiers of the phalanx, a hundred men and women in
steel, had stopped drilling and stared.
    Tilla looked toward them, and
her eyes narrowed further. "Keep drilling!" she shouted,
and her voice rolled across the camp. "Do you think the
Resistance is standing around gawking?"
    The swords began to swing again.
The men were hulking warriors, many of them standing well over six
feet tall, their frames burly. Yet even they looked sheepish as
Tilla commanded them.
    Merciful
stars, Erry thought. She's
even harder than Nairi.
    Tilla marched toward her, boots
thudding, and snatched the scroll from Erry's hands. She scanned the
writing quickly, then stared into Erry's eyes.
    "Says here you're a
troublemaker," Tilla said, scrutinizing Erry. "Says here
you break swords, lose helmets, and earned the punisher every day.
What makes you think you can serve here, soldier?"
    Erry
gasped. She wanted to shake Tilla madly, to scream at her. Don't
you remember me? You think I'm just some… some troublemaker
soldier? I'm your friend! I'm Erry from Cadport!
    She glanced back at the drilling
soldiers and forced herself to take a shaky breath.
    It's
just an act, she told herself. It
has to be. She's just acting this way for her troops.
    "Don't look at them,
soldier!" Tilla barked. "I asked you a question. Look at
me and answer."
    Erry couldn't help it now. She
gave a shaky laugh.
    "Stars, Tilla," she
whispered and shook her head. "Don't you remember me? It's
Erry."
    Tilla hissed. Her eyes blazed.
She looked so much like a rabid wolf that Erry took a step back.
    "Into my tent, soldier,"
Tilla hissed. "Go!"
    With that, the young officer
spun around and marched into her tent. Shakily, Erry followed her
into the shadows, leaving the phalanx to drill outside.
    Inside the tent, Erry saw a cot,
a small table and chair, and a wooden chest. It was a small tent,
maybe nine by nine feet, a retreat for an officer to find privacy
from those she commanded.
    Finally
Tilla can drop her act, Erry thought.
    "Well, this is nice,
Tilla!" she said and allowed herself a hesitant smile. "Sure
beats the old dirt we used to sleep on, right?" She reached for
an apple on the table. "And they give you apples! Stars, I
should become an officer too. I—"
    "You
will refer to me as Commander ,"
Tilla said, eyes blazing. "Or you will refer to me as Lanse
Tilla. Do you understand, soldier?"
    Erry froze, the apple halfway to
her mouth, and frowned.
    "By
the Abyss!" she said. "All right, Commander ."
Erry laughed shakily. "You… you remember me, don't you?
I—"
    Tilla snarled. Erry could not
believe it. The young woman—her best friend!—snarled at her. Her
lips peeled back, her teeth showed, and she growled like a wolf.
    "Do not test my patience,"
she said. "I remember you, Docker. We trained together, yes.
You know it. I know it. Those days are over." Tilla took a
step forward, towering over the smaller Erry. "I am your
commanding officer. That's all I am to you now. Do you understand?"
    Erry stood frozen, almost too
shocked to breathe.
    Merciful
stars, she thought. What
did they do to her at the academy?
    Her eyes burned, and Erry tossed
down her apple in disgust. She spat on the floor.
    "Well,
dog dung, Commander ,"
she said, spitting out that last word like an insult. "You
might remember me, but do you remember yourself? Do you remember who
you are?"
    Tilla clutched her punisher, and
its tip crackled to life. "Be careful, periva. Be careful
that—"
    Erry snorted. "You think
I'm scared of you, Tilla? You're just a common, seaside ropemaker's
daughter from Cadport. Bloody stars, you and I pissed in the woods
together. Now you act all high and mighty?" She laughed
mirthlessly, and her eyes would not stop stinging. "Sweaty
codpieces, Tilla! Don't you remember? I came here to serve with you
again. Like in the old days. Like—"
    Tilla