Swords of Gilded Crimson

Chapter 11 | Infiltration |

Aelius made a gagging noise as he peered over Felisse's shoulder at the finger. I recoiled, the pain of my wound a light throb in the background as Felisse snapped the box shut again.

'Geralder.' My voice was heavy with exhaustion. He had been wearing that silver and sapphire ring just this morning. I'd been too late to warn Kymil to get his spies to retreat, and now...

'They're probably interrogating him.' Aelius averted his gaze from the box and faced Felisse.

'He knows little,' she assured, standing up again. Aelius gave her a meaningful look, and Felisse's eyes flickered towards me in understanding. They moved towards the opposite end of the tent, and slowly, as they spoke about what Geralder could possibly reveal to the Luxandrians, their voices began to feel like they were coming from a long distance away. Darkness threatened to overwhelm me, lapping in and out of my mind like the waves of an untamed sea.

It amuses me that you think that it will not cost you.

It was costing me, I realised, as sleep enveloped me completely. It was costing me and my whole army. Not only our lives, but what was left of our dignity too. Luxandria accused Tenebrae of being the city of wickedness, but the box in Felisse's hands suggested otherwise to me.

*

I woke of my own accord the next morning, stirring to the sound of light murmuring. The old woman in grey robes was handing a tray to Aelius, laden with a small breakfast for the two of us.

'General,' she bowed her head to me, her long horns becoming visible in the process.

I inclined my head in return and watched her leave.

'She took her time,' Aelius inspected the breakfast and then crinkled his nose. 'But anything is better than nothing, I suppose.' He was no longer covered in blood or clothed in his battle armour. His jacket hung from a chair nearby and his baldric was strewn across my desk.

'You stayed the night,' I observed, noting the wrinkles in his shirt.

He shrugged, setting the tray beside my leg as he pulled forward a stool for himself. 'I didn't want my General mistaking her sleep for sweet death, did I?'

I shoved his shoulder lightly, and he grinned.

'It's healing well.' His gaze shifted to my thigh, where I saw that the bandages had been replaced. They were clean of blood, and the pain had reduced to a dull ache. Faerie wounds were quick to heal, which, on more than one occasion, had proven good for me.

'Thank you,' I said lowly, holding his stare. Showing gratitude in Tenebrae was a sign of weakness- we had been taught that from the beginning of our training. In war, you show no mercy, you accept no gratitude, you show no weakness. But sometimes, I had to admit that a thanks was in order. I wouldn't have been able to do half a good job at dressing this stab wound as Aelius had. But he brushed it off like it was nothing, and then stuffed a piece of bread into my mouth.

We finished off the rest of our meal, bickering occasionally over who got what slice of meat, or whose slab of jam was bigger. But I'd eaten, rested and dressed in new leathers by the time I worked my way to the desk that late morning. Upon it, the golden reiner lay glowing again.

As if on cue, the tent-flaps parted. Felisse and Kymil's expressions were grim as they entered, their steps decisive. Aelius had clearly let me sleep for longer than he should have; it looked like plans had been made without my approval.

I didn't need to ask them to update me. The spymaster immediately launched into his report that his intelligence unit were all safely retreated and back in the Tenebrian camp. It was only Geralder who remained under the Luxandrian's occupied territory.