Chapter 9
Captain Yang
It’s been a long trip, and all I want to do is bathe, eat a proper meal, and return to my quarters.
But I can’t. Instead, I find myself leaning against a wall, sighing deeply, and nursing a growing headache.
The growing headache has two causes: a long day and one Yin.
Once Castor left with General Garl, that left me alone with Yin and my orders. After I had told the General about her powers, he ordered she immediately be housed in one of the barrack quarters until training could begin.
It is up to me to get her settled, apparently.
Garl might as well have given me the task of moving every mountain in the Kingdom and draining every sea.
With the help of the barrack guards, we manage at least to get her in the right building. But that’s where my luck runs out.
“Ma’am, you need to go into your room and settle down,” one of the guards says in a gruff tone as he points to the open door before him.
Yin is standing in the doorway, but she clearly has no intention of going inside. Though the soldier tries to shoo her in, she actually growls at him.
I’ve been to the various villages of the Kingdom; I have traveled far, and I have met many. But in all my time I have not met a woman as unwomanly and gruff. Yin is less of a lady and more like a bear. Her unwashed muddy hair only adds to that appearance, as does her torn, dirty clothes.
But her eyes – two piercing pools of velvety brown – are very human. They have such an intense quality behind them, that staring at her is like watching a star be born from the very heavens.
“Ma’am,” the guard tries again, “don’t make me push you in there.”
“Ha,” Yin exclaims in a blast of derision that sees her chest puff out and her shoulders shake back, “go ahead and try.”
The soldier takes a menacing step forward.
It’s time for me to intervene. Not before he hurts her, but before she hurts him.
She, after all, is powerful. Very powerful. If she truly has been trained by Castor, then she’s a potentially invaluable asset for the Royal Army. One that it is up to me to get settled before she can be trained.
Though a man twice her size in imposing gold armor is looming over her, Yin barely bats an eyelash. Instead, she arches her neck back, the muscles straining.
She acts like a soldier. Like a man.
She’s neither.
“Hold on,” I warn as I take a step toward the soldier before he can make a mistake, “let me deal with this,” I offer.
I don’t want to; I’d rather go straight to my bed. With every passing second, my headache becomes more powerful. I can feel my blood pounding through my neck and temples like a blacksmith hammering an anvil.
Still, with a deep breath, I call on my control. It is up to me to show restraint here, for lord knows a sorcerer like her can’t. If I wait around for Yin to become reasonable, I’ll become an old man with a 20-foot beard.
Yin swivels her gaze to stare at me. I can see the concentrated hatred burning in her gaze.
Which, frankly, is not something I’m used to. I’ve always been blessed when it comes to women. Most Royal Army sorcerers, after all, know how to read the emotions of others and act accordingly. While we control our own feelings, it’s all too easy to read those of others.
The ability to know what a woman is after has always stood me in good stead. My appearance also helps.
Right now my charms clearly aren’t working on the mysterious Yin. Rather than looking at me with a blush warming her cheeks, she looks as if she wants to send me hurtling through the wall with a kick.
I clear my throat. “Please, just go into your room. You will be safe there. As I said before, you have my word that nothing will happen to you. I can vouch for your safety.”
“As I said before,” she says, her voice trilling, “I don’t trust you. Words mean nothing. Action means everything. If you really want me to believe you, just let me out.”
I press my lips together.
Though I shouldn’t, I feel frustration rise through my chest.
She knows she can’t leave; that’s been explained to her countless times. In a patient, understanding tone, I have told her she can’t go and that she will be treated well. Yet she persists in demanding to be set free. Reasoning with her is like talking to a mountain lion, and quite possibly just as dangerous.
“Sir, I can deal with this,” the guard offers with a grating grunt. “She’s only a woman.”
I don’t need to be able to read his emotions to tell he’s getting angry. His body language betrays that, as does the look in his eye.
“You can deal with yourself,” Yin barks back. “But if you come near me, I’ll show you you’re only a man.”
The guard bristles.
He also reaches for his bludgeon.
“I will deal with this,” I step closer to the guard, raising a hand in a stopping motion.
The guard doesn’t let go of his bludgeon, but he doesn’t step closer to Yin either.
For her part, she leans there in the doorway, her arms crossed, a challenging smile on her lips.
“Sir,” the guard begins.
“You’re relieved. I will send for you when I need you,” I tell him as I offer a short salute.
The guard looks wary, but soon returns the salute and begins to walk away. He casts Yin a glare as he does, though. One she happily returns as she offers a short wave.
Then she returns her attention back to me.
For a few seconds, she says nothing. She stares at me as if she’s considering the most loathsome thing in all the lands. “I don’t care what your plans are, I’m not going to help you,” she tells me flatly.
I am used to the ladies of the Royal City being less than direct. Polite, careful, and always thoughtful. Yin, however, holds nothing back.
“You should care what our plans are,” I say, choosing my words slowly, “because if you paused to understand them, you would realize they are good. They are just. We are here to help the people of this Kingdom,” I say emphatically as I spread a hand over my chest plate.
She looks unmoved, and crosses her arms tighter.
“I will do anything to protect the people of this land. From the Queen herself, to every loyal citizen, I am prepared to sacrifice my life for their security,” I continue.
“Anything?” she suddenly challenges.
“Anything,” I agree.
“Including capturing an old man, attacking a woman with an entire unit of soldiers, and warmongering?” she asks snidely.
My calm falters.
She sees it. Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head. “My uncle warned me about people like you. He told me you always pretend war is imminent so you can keep a stranglehold on resources. So you can keep the populace in a constant state of fear so they are easier to control.”
I falter again. But just as frustration kindles in my belly, something else does.
Curiosity.
What exactly has Castor told this woman? According to the stories I’ve been told, Castor is one the most loyal and capable soldiers the Kingdom has ever had. But if Yin is to be believed, Castor’s legendary loyalty is a myth.
“He’s warned me about people like you,” she repeats, suspicion flashing in her eyes.
“What has he told you?” I suddenly ask. “That we’re all monsters? That we use our power to control people? Has he conveniently failed to share details of all the villages we have saved, of all the good men we have lost protecting people just like you?”
She presses her lips together and looks surly. But her silence can’t last, “he told me men like you distract yourselves. You forget about the real war, and content yourselves with the petty disputes of nations.”
Now curiosity overtakes my fire completely. My eyes narrow and my lips part slowly. “Sorry? The real war? What does that mean? What’s the real war?”
She blinks suddenly, and looks
as if she’s said something she regrets.
“What is your relationship to Castor? He isn’t your uncle, so why do you call him that? Why did he train you?” I suddenly ask, unable to hold onto my questions anymore.
She takes a step back.
An armed soldier couldn’t get her to walk into her room, but my simple questions are enough.
With a steely look, she locks a hand on the door. “I’m done talking to you. I’ve said all I need to. I’m not going to help you.”
“And you’re not going to answer my questions either, are you?”
She stands there and glares at me for a single second before she slams the door in my face.
.…
I blink, and I stare at her door, blinking again.
Finally, I step forward and draw the thick lock into place. Technically the inside of her room should be filled with enough specialized enchantments to stop Yin from using her powers. They stop anyone from summoning magic, creating a wall between them and the power within their Arak devices. Yet as I draw that bolt into place, I can’t fight the feeling it won’t be enough. It feels a little like trying to keep a raging forest fire back by blowing at it.
Still, as I lock the door and stand back, I feel a measure of relief.
I can finally go and eat, bathe, and sleep.
.…
But first I have to walk away from her door, and that’s proving to be a harder task than it should.
I find myself locked in place for entirely too long.
It takes another soldier walking down the hall to break my reverie. In a commanding tone, I tell the man to stand guard outside her door, and then I turn and leave.
I do so slowly, though. Every step away from her door is laborious as if I’m trying to trek through knee-deep snow.
There’s something unquestionably mysterious about her. Something more than the force, bluster, and flame.
Right then and there, I tell myself I’ll come to the bottom of it. Not for Queen and country, but to satisfy my own curiosity.
Though I can’t know it, that simple oath will alter my destiny irrevocably.
I most certainly will never be the same again.
Nor will the Kingdom I love so dearly.