It had been two months since they had marched through the gate. Yifat had spent most of that time pushing the armies to occupy new valleys. So far she hadn’t met any resistance. The army had massacred any creature she deemed too dangerous to dwell within the empire and there hadn’t been any reports of intelligent life. In fact the only general who had gotten any measure of glory was General Jader. The defensive general rarely got any recognition during the war, his due came either beforehand or shortly after. Work had been begun on a wall around the gate while towers were being raised at the valley’s entrances.

Yifat was frustrated. She was forced to work with Benroy, who was a smug prick at the best of times and currently he was inexcusable. The man refused to send out his wyverns to scout the surrounding valleys. Not because it was dangerous for them, but because wyverns ate twice as much when they had flown and Benroy paid for that out of his own pocket. Him being stingy slowed down the entire operation. She had brought it up with the field marshal, but he had all but waved her protests away. “Benroy’s wyverns are part of his personal estate, I will not set the precedent for taking private property from military personnel for the good of the empire. Before you know it we will all be bankrupt.” He had said without even so much as looking up from his desk. The fact that his reasoning was logical made it all the more infuriating.

Snow fell in a lazy drizzle. “Absolutely pathetic.” She muttered. If the people of this world were anything like their snowfall this wasn’t going to be a glorious conquest. Back home temperatures would already have dropped to minus thirty. The streets would be inaccessable, the people retreated into the warmer volcanic tunnel system. “General Yifat, ma’am.” She turned around to find one of her brigadier generals whose name eluded her. “At ease. Report.” The brigadier general relaxed a little.

“One of the scouts has returned, she has reported contact with a native people and brought some excellent fish with her.” Yifat’s mood soared. Natives, that meant possible resistance and that would translate into recognition. “I want to speak to this scout immediately, bring him to me.” The brigadier general saluted. “As you wish general shall I send her to your yurt?” Yifat nodded absentmindedly and the brigadier general hurried away. She walked through her camp, which was set up according to advancement protocol, more as a statement than as a practical measure. Inside her yurt it was almost colder than outside.

The scout arrived soon after Yifat had settled down in a comfortable chair. She was on the small side by Visius standards, but carried herself like any other soldier. Going by the stripes on her shoulder she was a lieutenant. The woman saluted. “Lieutenant Sada mon Tarabash reporting sir.” She acknowledged the lieutenant with a nod of her head. “My brigadier general tells me you’ve made contact with the natives. I want a full report.” As the lieutenant recounted her encounter with the natives in an as detailed way as possible Yifat’s interest grew.

“Hmmm, they’re not unintelligent, but uneducated you say. You didn’t see any real weapons? No walls either? Not a warrior race this then?” She had many questions, but the scout couldn’t answer them. “They grow fur on their faces and heads?” Yifat mused, tipping on a detailed sketch the scout had made. “Why would they need that, our mages have informed us that the winters are very mild in this region. The temperature doesn’t fall below minus twenty degrees?” Lieutenant Sada shrugged, caught herself doing it and looked suitably embarrassed. Yifat traced the image of the creature in front of her, before suddenly standing up, making the lieutenant jump a little.

“Lieutenant Sada mon Tarabash you’ve done well, very well in fact. Hereby you are promoted to captain. I want you to make contact with the natives again, only this time take half a company with you. Learn their language, how many there are, if they are affiliated with a larger collective, any information that might be useful in the coming invasion. Official orders will follow shortly. Dismissed.” As the freshly promoted captain left her yurt Yifat’s lips curled into a smile. The future suddenly looked a lot brighter.

Ɏ

Captain Sada left her general’s yurt the picture of professionalism. She made it to the outer perimeter before her face split open in a wide smile. Captain, now that was a rank to be proud of. After only two years of service. As a lieutenant she in theory had a right to a platoon, but in practice there were more junior officers than living soldiers so those platoons remained theoretical. A captain however couldn’t be denied an actual company.

A hundred riders, she was practically glowing. Already she was mentally going through a list of scouts she wanted on her hundred. Of course she would also need a lieutenant, there wasn’t any question about whom that was going to be. She and Amon had risen together in the academy, knocking rivals down, getting each other through the impossible training schedules. At times they had even been lovers, but that had never grown into a permanent pairing.

When she got to the communal officer’s yurt she found the official orders on her pillow, including a chisel. “I take it your mission was a success.” A low voice said from behind her. “And our next one will be an even greater one.” She responded, before turning around smiling. Amon’s scarred face was a very welcome sight. “You need help with that?” He quietly asked, nodding at the chisel. He knew she wouldn’t accept, but it was a nod to their shared promotion to lieutenant. Back when they had chiselled their ranks into each other’s heads. “Not this time, this one I will do myself.” She took the chisel and walked to the single mirror in the yurt. Eyes followed her, rivals, temporary allies, soon to be subordinates, jealousy was the one thing all those eyes had in common.

She sat down and grabbed the waiting hammer, which had been placed there as a promise. With care and precision she started to chisel out her new rank. After fifteen minutes she was done, by then the other occupants of the yurt had all lined up. She stood up and turned around. Directly to her right stood Amon, the part of his face that had been destroyed by a wyvern’s tail turned away from her, a genuine smile on his face.

To her left stood Lapidos mon Tachow, her oldest rival. He wasn’t smiling, but it was him who saluted first of all in attendance, a true sign of respect. As one the other lieutenants saluted her as she walked towards her bunk. At the end of the two rows, which led towards the yurt’s entrance she turned around. Her eyes passed over her former peers and for a second she considered humiliating her former rivals, but it would taint this moment so instead she saluted them instead. The next time they would be speaking to her it would be as subordinates to their commander.

Her next stop was the quartermaster. Officially the quartermaster was ranked below a captain, but you would have to be a complete idiot to think that mattered when treating with him. Campaigns weren’t the most comfortable endeavours at the best of times, but your relationship with the quartermaster could play a decisive role in exactly how uncomfortable it was going to be for you specifically.

Jomar mon Tarabash, the quartermaster that served the second army under General Yifat, was a veteran who had served with her father in the civil war. The two had been very close friends until her father had fallen during the siege of Kerach. As she entered the orderly yurt Jomar threw his massive arms around her. “Congratulations Sada, you deserve it! Sit down, have a drink.” After the professional send off Jomar’s familiar attitude seemed jarring. However, this man had known her since she was a little girl playing with her father’s knives. She smiled and sat down in front of him.

Her nostrils flared as she smelled the kepach. “You of all people should know that alcoholics are prohibited.” She chided him mildly as he poured two cups. Jomar pouted his lips. “I’ve got a licence, against the dreams.” She sniffed the kepach, which smelled strong, and took a small sip. The bitter drink was distilled from the seaweed that grew in the great bay of Tarabash, at the foot of the volcano. She wasn’t much of a drinker, so after two small sips she put the cup down not to pick it up again. Jomar gulped his own drink down quicker than most men water and refilled the cup. “Your father would be proud if he could see you now. He always wanted another officer in the family.”

Jomar drank again deeply. It was a good thing he wasn’t deployed directly into the field anymore Sada thought. It had been years since her uncle’s friend had picked up a weapon other than to count it. The stories about her father and Jomar breaching the walls of Mechion together seemed like tall tales when she looked at the man now. He was still massive, but much of the muscle in his body had turned to fat and the entire yurt smelled of kepach. It didn’t change the fact however that Jomar was as capable a quartermaster as he had been a vanguard or that the chair behind his desk was made out of wyvern bone, an honour only given to those who had slain a wyvern singlehandedly. “Now captain, I assume that you did not just come to my tent to have a drink with an old man. When do you depart?” The large man asked, pulling her from her thoughts. “Tomorrow. I’m going to need provisions for two months for a hundred riders, fresh taukars and camping supplies.” Jomar nodded.

“I take it you will be in the field for the foreseeable future, will you be needing additional supplies at some point?” Sada thought for a minute, she wouldn’t be able to rely on the village’s storage to keep her hundred fed, no matter how bountiful they were, but the valley beyond had been rich in animals. It wouldn’t hurt to have her riders do some hunting while they were exploring the surrounding villages. Still she couldn’t risk letting her subordinates starve like she had almost done on the way to the village. “Additional supplies would be most welcome.” The next twenty minutes they spent setting up a soft supply line. To a different race this might have seemed like a strange way to plan an operation, but when eighty percent of your army didn’t need to be fed and would instantly and simultaneously follow orders planning operations with living soldiers became different. Anything she asked for was entirely within his power to grant her.

“A toast then.” Jomar said, filling his cup again. “To promotion, another successful mission and lasting friendship.” He raised the cup and without waiting for her to do the same downed it. He was about to fill his cup yet again when she grabbed his hand firmly. “I think you had enough quartermaster.” The smile slid of his face, red flecks rising to the surface of his eyes. “Is that an order captain?” There was a dark tone to his voice, the threat of violence clear within it. She looked into his eyes, unyielding, blue ghostly lights rising in her own. “Peace uncle.” She said softly, her grip softening. “I miss him too.” The red flecks disappeared, the black pools turning even darker than they had been.

He stood up, slowly walking to his desk, signing a document shakily. “Captain Sada, this authorizes you to take what we agreed upon from our stocks.” His voice was emotionless as he spoke, his eyes empty as he handed her the warrant. She stood up, took the document and walked towards the exit of the yurt. In the opening she cast one last look at the quartermaster. Jomar stood in front of the only thing in the yurt that could be counted as decoration, a ceremonial sword. Her father’s sword. She stepped into the night, putting the quartermaster out of her mind.

Ɏ

“General Benroy, what a pleasant surprise.” Mordechai said as the general entered his yurt. “Please take a look at this map.” The field marshal said, inviting the other man to take a closer a look at the map that was lying on a table in the centre of the room. The general joined his superior and surveyed the map in front of him. “What do you see?” The field marshal asked him as he poured two glasses of clear water.

“These new lands are very defensible, but do not provide the bounty you’ve promised. Her majesty will not be satisfied with these flimsy results.” The Benroy’s voice was cold and disapproving. He didn’t like the field marshal and found it hard to accept the man’s position as the leader of this endeavour. He still thought of Mordechai as a traitor and a dissident, one who should have been executed for his crimes against the empire, not put in charge of four of its armies.

The field marshal chuckled. “After all these years Benroy, still you resent me?” The general looked up, locking eyes with his commander. There was amusement there, he could see the purple sparks dance through the man’s eyes. With effort he repressed his rising anger. “It is not my place to resent you sir, just to aid you to the best of my abilities.” He said through gritted teeth. The field marshal shrugged, an air of casualness around him that infuriated Benroy even further. “I do admire your professionalism, it speaks to your character.” Benroy breathed out, repressing his hatred for his commander. Back home they would be on opposing sides again. Out here however there was only one side, the queen’s.

“I agree with your assessment. These lands make for a good stronghold, but will hardly make for a decent tribute. I intend to push harder into the lands beyond the mountains, as soon as we’ve found a proper way through.” Benroy coughed politely. “Than you might be interested in the report I’m about to give you, sir.” The field marshal looked up with interest. “General Yifat has promoted one of her scouts and is sending a mounted company to some place not on our maps.” Mordechai’s eyes were unreadable still pools of darkness. “Who she promotes in her army is her business general. I will not interfere with such things, much like I wouldn’t interfere with the ranking of your aerial company.”

Benroy nodded. “I of course agree and it is not the promoted officer that I take issue with. It is the fact that there was reason for promotion at all. This scout must have discovered something significant to be promoted so early in this campaign. I do not have to tell you, sir, what will happen when General Yifat uses this captain to lay claim to whatever she discovered.” Mordechai thought for a long minute. “I see and understand your concerns General Benroy, they will be taken under advisement.” Benroy nodded, waiting for an order or a remark or something, but his commander remained silent, focused on the map. “If that is all General Benroy?” The field marshal asked nonchalantly. Repressing his rising anger he saluted and marched out of the yurt. “Get Iskar saddled, I’m taking to the skies.” He barked to a waiting attendant.

Inside his yurt Mordechai smiled, golden flecks dancing through his eyes. “So predictable.”