“I was actually… using the latrine ditch when the attack began,” Tasia said, hoping that the fire’s light was too dim to reveal her blush. “A man found me. We fought and I stabbed him, but — ”
Norix blinked in surprise. “Stabbed him?”
“I took one of the daggers Joslyn has been training me to use with me to the latrine. So yes, I stabbed him in the side, just below his armor, but he pulled me down, and I must’ve hit my head…” She trailed off, trying to penetrate the gap in her memory from the time she fell and the time she woke again.
“I beheaded him,” Joslyn supplied. “The man who attacked you. I heard you scream, and by the time I got there, he had a knife to your throat. I would’ve stayed with you after I took off his head, but by then they were attacking the camp from every side, and when I saw the Wise Man’s tent catch fire, I left to help the soldiers putting out the blaze.”
“You should never have left the Princess’s side,” said Norix stonily.
“The Princess was in the dark, hidden from view,” Joslyn said. “You were trapped in an inferno.”
“It does not matter what happens to me,” said the Wise Man. “I am just an old man. I’m destined for the crematorium’s inferno soon enough anyway. She is the Empire’s future.” He jabbed a finger in Tasia’s direction, as if his statement was part accusation.
“I was satisfied that the Princess was temporarily safe,” Joslyn said stiffly. “And I am glad that you remain uncremated. Sir.”
Norix grumbled inaudibly.
“Where did you go?” Tasia asked her tutor, hoping the change of topic would dissipate the tension between guard and Wise Man.
“I ran,” he said. “Found a copse of fruit trees on the other side of the pond, covered myself in leaves and hoped I would remain undiscovered.” He looked her over, gestured at her dirty robe. “And you? Wisdom must have dictated that you do the same, I see.”
She shook her head. “No. Wisdom dictated that I could not leave the soldiers to fight in my name while I hid behind a tent. So I — ”
“Princess!” Norix gasped, his eyes widening. “Tell me you were not fool enough to join the battle!”
“I could not leave soldiers to fight for me while I hid,” Tasia repeated firmly. “So I kept myself hidden, but…” She glanced at Joslyn for a brief moment. “But I kept looking for a way that I could help.”
“And she found it,” said the guard. She spoke to Norix, but kept her eyes fixed on Tasia when she said, “Were it not for the Princess’s true aim, I would be amongst the dead right now.”
Norix’s brow creased and he looked at Tasia for an explanation.
“A man was about to drive his sword into Joslyn,” Tasia said. “I threw my dagger at him, and it struck him in the throat.” She shuddered at the memory of the blood squirting from his throat in all directions.
I took a person’s life tonight, she reminded herself.
Norix nodded slowly. “Well. It seems as if your father’s plan for teaching you to defend yourself has paid its dividends at last.” But he didn’t sound happy about it. Norix glanced briefly at Joslyn. “Although I find it intriguing that the guard set to protect you was defended by you, and not the other way around.”
Tasia bristled, the sympathy she’d felt for her old tutor earlier evaporating now that she was face-to-face with his typical condescension. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the part where Joslyn beheaded the man who had been about to kill me?”
“I also heard the part where she left you there,” Norix said. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the part in which she might not have needed your defense if she had stayed by your side as she was commissioned to do. But I suppose even nomads sometimes feel the need to play the hero.”
Tasia swallowed at least five angry comments, which stuck like shards of glass in her throat. As she had seen her father do sometimes, she decided to redirect the conversation. “Does anyone know what happened to General Remington?”
Norix’s face fell and he dropped his eyes. “Amongst the dead,” he said sadly. “The General came out of his tent just as I came out of mine. I saw a raider plant a dagger in his back. That was when I ran.”
General Remington, dead. Just like that. The old war hero who’d saved the Empire from breaking apart during the Western Rebellion, who’d orchestrated the War in the East for twelve years, who’d survived the loss of a leg and a host of other battle wounds, was dead from a coward’s dagger in his back. He’d never been someone Tasia had felt much affection for — a boring and condescending lecturer, like Norix, but he’d been a faithful servant of the Empire for decades, and the Emperor had trusted his advice almost unconditionally when it came to matters of war. Who would advise the Emperor on military matters now? And how would Tasia tell her father that her most trusted military advisor had died from something as ignoble as a dagger in the back?
What would Father do? Tasia wondered.
Joslyn’s dark eyes caught hers, held them for a moment. When chaos had overwhelmed the camp and threatened to destroy them all, Joslyn had seized control and restored order. With the single cry of “…to me!”, the guard had turned the tide of battle.
The camp was in shambles. Two tents and likely untold supplies had burned or been otherwise ruined. Too many of their already small fighting force was dead. The entire mission was in jeopardy.
The guard had turned the tide of battle; could Tasia turn the tide of its aftermath?
“We must find General Remington’s body and send it to Port Lorsin for a proper funeral,” Tasia said. Somehow she’d managed to find her royal voice, the one that sounded authoritative and confident. She turned to the two soldiers who’d escorted Norix. “Where is Captain Mannick?”
The younger of the soldiers, brown eyes weary and face smudged with ash, nodded. “Killed, Princess. Saw it m’self.”
Tasia thought a moment. “Who is the ranking officer now?”
The soldiers exchanged a glance. “There were two lieutenants assisting the captain,” said the older one. This one had bright blue eyes and a shock of blond hair — probably a native of the Steppes or the mountains of the Northeast. “We’re not sure if…” He cleared his throat. “We don’t know if either of them survived.”
Tasia placed a hand on the blond one’s forearm and squeezed. “You fought bravely tonight,” she told him. “Search the camp. Bring me the ranking officer who still survives.” To the younger one, she said, “As for you, count how many able-bodied men we have left, how many are injured, and how many survive. Bring me numbers. I will be in my tent with my advisors.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” both boys mumbled, and they shuffled away.
“That was well-handled,” Norix said after the boys were out of earshot.
Tasia nodded. “Join me in my tent,” she said to Norix. She stood, looked down at Joslyn. “And you, too, Guard. The three of us have decisions to make.”
Norix glanced from Tasia to Joslyn. “Since when is the bodyguard an advisor?”
“Since she kept all of us from getting slaughtered tonight,” Tasia said. “And with Mannick and Remington both dead, she might be the ranking officer still alive.”