He stood flushed and humiliated before her, the weight of the responsibility she was attributing to him immense and crushing and somehow inescapable. He knew he had done the best he could, but she made him feel as if that was not enough.
« So now you are the hero of the Elven army and my sons are dead,” she continued softly. «You have pretended to be Captain of the Home Guard when in truth you were relieved of your command days ago. Shame on you.»
He took a deep breath. «I did what I thought I needed to do to save the army. I didn’t choose to pretend at what I was, it was thrust upon me by circumstance and need. I don’t ask you to forgive me, only to try to understand.» He paused. «I will resign my position at once and let another take my place.»
« Oh, I think not!» she snapped at him. «Resign so that you can have the entire Elven army begging for your return? Resign, so that you can escape yet another obligation and another duty?»
He stared at her in shock. «It was not my intention—”
« Be quiet!» she snapped. He flinched at the force of her words. She froze him with her glare, with the bitterness reflected in her eyes. «Don’t say another word unless I ask for it. Not one word.»
His center went so cold that it might have been midwinter on the Prekkendorran instead of summer. He held her gaze and waited.
« You have won the hearts of my Elven Hunters,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. «You have won them and now you shall see to it that you do not break them as you have broken mine. Vaden Wick tells me that a counterattack is planned for tonight. What is your part in it?»
« I will go into the Federation camp after darkness with a handful of my Home Guard and destroy the airship and its weapon.»
Now it was her turn to stare. «Do you really think you can do this?»
He shook his head wearily. «I will do it or die trying.»
« Fair enough,” she said. «I will take that as a promise and hold you to it. But hear me. If you survive this, if you manage somehow to come back alive, if you are successful in your efforts to put an end to the threat of this weapon that killed my sons, I will put this entire business behind me. Neither of us will speak of it again. But your service to the throne is finished. You will resign your position as Captain of the Home Guard immediately. You may give any reason you wish so long as my name is not mentioned. You will pack your belongings and leave Arborlon. You may go anywhere within the Westland so long as I never have to see you again. Is that clear?»
He thought of their past, a wisp of a memory turned to frost in the coldness of her voice. «It is.»
She held herself very still. «It could have been different for us, Pied. If you had saved my sons as you had sworn you would do, it could have been different.»
He said nothing in response. There was nothing to say. She might even believe that what she said was true. But he didn’t.
She studied his face a moment longer, then held out her hand for him to kiss, turned, and went back through the tent flap. He stared after her, trying to decide how much of what had just happened was deserved. In the end, he guessed, it didn’t really matter.
> Two hours later, he stood at the edge of the Free–born airfield looking out over the broad sweep of the Prekkendorran to where the fires of the Federation army were being lit against the growing darkness. Dusk had settled in, deep and gloomy on a night that promised clouds and mist. It was the weather Pied had hoped for, an unexpected gift. He was dressed in black, and Drumundoon was standing in front of him applying lampblack to his face.
« She has no right to blame you,” his young aide repeated yet again, scowling.
Pied held himself still as Drum’s fingers worked across his face. «She has every right.»
« She should be grateful you lived. If you hadn’t, she might have lost the whole of her army.»
« She isn’t looking at it that way.»
« Well, she should. She needs to distance herself from her emotions. She needs to exercise better judgment.»
« A mother can’t always do that.»
« A Queen can. And should.»
There was no satisfying him on the subject. He refused to consider any alternative but the one that favored Pied. Drum was nothing if not loyal. He had known of the entire conversation and confronted Pied with the whole of it minutes after Arling’s departure. He didn’t seem bothered in the least by the fact that if he had been caught eavesdropping, he would very likely have been shipped home in shackles. What mattered to him was that the Queen had done Pied an injustice that should be set right, and Pied did not seem inclined to do anything about it.
There were reasons for that, though Pied didn’t want to talk about them. He was sick at heart at what had happened to Kellen and his sons and dismayed by Arling’s response, even though he understood it and did not fault her for it. Mostly, he was weary. When the mission was finished, he did not want to continue as commander of the Elven army. Nor did he want to go back to being Captain of the Home Guard. Even if Arling had asked him to do so, a response he did not foresee, he would have refused. His sense of accountability for what had happened to Kellen and the boys weighed on him as if a tree had fallen on his shoulders. Nothing would ever be the same in his relationship with the Elessedils. He no longer belonged in the position of Captain of the Home Guard. He did not even think he belonged in Arborlon.
Drum would never understand that. So there was no point in discussing it with him. It was better if Pied simply presented it as settled and let time do the rest.
Drum stepped back, eyeing him critically. «You’re done. As good as I can make it.»
« That will have to be good enough,” Pied replied.
They stared at each other for a moment, and then Drumundoon stuck out his hand. «Good luck to you, Captain. I’ll be here when you return.»
Pied took his hand and clasped it tightly. «I count on that, Drum. I really do.»
He turned away and moved to where theWayjord was anchored, signaling to the other dark–clad figures scattered about that they were leaving. The Free–born ship was rigged for sailing and ready to fly, her captain already in the pilot box, her crew of six at the lines and anchor ropes. It was dark enough that they could lift off without drawing attention. If they flew east, into the darkness, they wouldn’t be seen when they turned south. After that, it would be up to fate and luck.
Pied climbed the rope ladder with the other twelve members of his tiny force, taking quick note of the flits that were stacked on both sides of the mainmast before turning to take a head count. As he did so, he caught sight of Troon, black–faced and black–clad like the others, levering one leg over the ship’s railing and pulling herself aboard. Breaking off his count, he went over to her at once, took her firmly by the arm, and drew her aside.
« What are you doing here?» he demanded, trying to keep his anger in check.
She arched one eyebrow. «I think you can figure that out for yourself, Captain. I decided I didn’t want to be left behind.»
« You’ve just finished one mission. You’re not ready for another.»
« I’m ready enough. I had time to sleep last night once I was inside the Free–born lines. I told you it wasn’t that hard. I slept today, as well.»
He shook his head. «I don’t want you doing this.»
« You left it up to the Home Guard to choose a dozen of us. I volunteered, and I was chosen. A Tracker might prove useful.»
« Well, I’m overruling the vote. You’re off.»
She stood her ground. «Because you are afraid I might not be up to doing what’s needed? Or because of something else?» She gave him a moment, then shrugged. «Anyhow, we’re already under way.»