The Autumn Republic

Tamas’s hands shook at his side and he ground his teeth together violently. Everyone in the tent had their eyes locked on Tamas and the Wings’ brigadier. Vlora looked shocked by Abrax’s outburst, while Olem hovered nearby with a hand on his sword. “I never gave it up,” he growled.

Abrax sniffed at him. “You did.”

“We won this battle. And you’re furious about it?”

“I’m furious that you risked everything. Once battle had joined, I spread the word that you returned. I personally told my officers that you would lead us to victory. Morale soared. They thought you were here, issuing every command yourself. You made a liar out of me.”

“Countries rise and fall on bigger lies than that,” Tamas said. “And those were my orders. I had returned, and I did give you a victory.”

“Semantics!” Abrax spat.

Tamas thrust his finger at the table in the middle of the room, which was covered in his maps and notes. “I fought the entire battle the day before it happened. And we still won.” Tamas felt a trickle of sweat go down his spine and hoped that Vlora had, in fact, been honest with how well he’d predicted the battle. “I did all of that in a single afternoon. I fought my way across bloody Kez, through betrayal and death to get back here.” Tamas choked as he remembered the night he thought he had lost Gavril, riding hard across the plateau south of Alvation. “I would have won this war already had I not been beset by treachery.”

“You’re such a bloody genius,” Abrax said, her lips twisted in disgust. “You can fight the rest of the war on your own. I’m going to recommend to Lady Winceslav that the Wings of Adom cancel their contract and withdraw our forces. Or what is left of them.” Abrax brushed past him and stormed from the tent before Tamas could respond.

Tamas stood in silent shock, until Olem took him by the shoulder. “Sir?”

“I’m all right.” He stumbled to a chair and sat down. The exhaustion of months of riding, fighting, desperation, and anxiety seemed to catch up with him all at once and he found that his strength was gone. His eyelids felt weighed down by lead shot. What had he done? If the Wings abandoned him now, could he finish this war?

Someone cleared his throat.

Tamas looked up to find Inspector Adamat holding his hat, looking rather embarrassed to have witnessed the fight between him and Abrax.

“In a moment, Inspector. Vlora, what were the losses to the Wings of Adom?”

Vlora shifted from one foot to the other. She’d not yet put on her boots, Tamas noticed absently. “A little less than twenty thousand.”

“Ah, pit. No wonder Abrax was so angry. That’s almost half of their forces wounded or killed.”

“They took the brunt of the attack, sir. Just like you planned.”

“Just like I planned. Of course.” His thought had been to let the mercenaries earn their pay. And they had, many times over, it seemed. They weren’t his men. They were Abrax’s, and she had the right to be furious that Tamas had used them for a millstone. “Inspector. How did the affair with Lord Vetas go? Is your family safe?”

“Lord Vetas is dead,” Adamat said. “And thank you for asking, sir. We were able to rescue all but”-he paused to clear his throat-“my oldest son.” Adamat looked as weary as Tamas felt. There were large black bags beneath his eyes and the little hair on his balding head was mussed from sleeping on the ground.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, sir. Our expedition against Lord Vetas was a success. We even captured many of his papers and men, but, I’m afraid, it was all in vain. You’ve been told that Lord Claremonte holds Adopest?”

“That’s what I was told. But one thing at a time. We still have to throw the Kez from our lands. Write up a report for me-”

“I have.”

“Excellent. I’ll read it and we’ll talk before the day is over. You’re free to roam the camp, but I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d stay close until I know everything I need to about Claremonte.”

“I’m afraid I’ll be of little help there, sir.”

“Every little bit counts. Now I would…” Tamas stopped himself. “Miss, could you come here?”

The girl with the curly red hair slowly stepped away from the corner. At first glance she seemed shy, but upon further examination Tamas recognized wariness, like an animal sniffing the air to identify a friend or foe.

“Nila?” Olem suddenly exclaimed.

“Hello, Captain,” the girl said, giving Olem a small smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re the laundress!” Tamas blurted out as the memory caught up to him. “The one who disappeared with the Eldaminse boy.” He narrowed his eyes. “Where the pit did you get to? And what are you doing here?”

Nila curtsied and then folded her hands behind her back. “Field Marshal,” she said, “I did not steal away the Eldaminse boy. Not precisely. We were both captured by Lord Vetas, and escaped when Adamat attacked Vetas’s compound. The inspector will corroborate my story.”

“Is that so, Inspector?”

Adamat gave a nod, albeit hesitantly. “I don’t know the whole of it, sir. But she’s an honest girl.”