Jeff Salyards - Veil of the Deserters

Soffjian rode past me, not tarrying in the least. I wasn’t sure if it was a cantor or a gallop, but it wasn’t slow. Skeelana followed, though not riding quite so hard, with the spare mounts behind her. I gave her a questioning look as she passed and she only raised her pierced eyebrows. I picked up the pace a bit as well, closing the distance between myself and the Syldoon officers, though as discretely as I could manage.

Braylar’s sister passed him, wheeled her horse around with a whinnying protest and then stopped directly in his path. While he could have chosen to go around her-this was an open road, not an alley-he halted and waited her out.

She seemed adept at masking her emotions when it suited her, perhaps no less so than Braylar, adopting expressions and demeanor for effect, but looked genuinely angry now. “I couldn’t help noticing you are no longer headed home, brother. It’s been some time-I do hope you haven’t forgotten the way?”

Braylar met her stare. “Your heartfelt concern for my faculties is appreciated, as always, but-and I realize this might surprise you-I do in fact know where I am headed. Thank you for checking, just the same. Truly touching.”

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw the anger flare up into a smoldering rage, but her usual mask slid into place so quickly, it might almost have been a trick of the shadow of a fast-moving cloud playing on her features. Almost. “While the Emperor and Commander Darzaak didn’t see fit to share the actual script, it was made very clear to me that you were to quit Alespell as soon as you were able and return to Sunwrack immediately. Was the message more muddled on the actual page? Some ambiguity there? Please, explain what I missed.”

I nudged my horse forward a bit to better see his face. Yes, he was smiling. That didn’t bode well. “Oh, no, you are quite right. The mandate to return was spelled out explicitly. No uncertain terms. No room to misinterpret.”

Soffjian laughed, which was as humorless a sound as I’d ever heard. “Truly? So, you’re simply disregarding an Imperial order?”

“Our return to the capital will involve as much haste as we can muster. Exactly as instructed.”

Soffjian glared, the unfriendly smile still on her lips. “Oh? I remain mystified.”

“The order allowed for us to complete whatever final action we deemed necessary here before quitting the territory and returning. That particular segment is open to interpretation.”

Mulldoos broke in, smiling as well, though he seemed to actually be enjoying the confrontation. “Cynead ought to have buttoned that one down better. Cap has room to wiggle, you can be sure he’ll be using it.”

Soffjian’s eyes never left her brother. “That’s Emperor Cynead, Syldoon. And I suspect the Emperor will not be amused at your delays.”

Mulldoos didn’t back down either, which wasn’t shocking, but still spoke volumes about his bravery, stupidity, or indignation. “Guessing in all his imperialness, he forgot it was an imperial order sent us and every other squad into Anjuria in the first place. Emperors don’t like getting dirt or blood under their fingernails-that’s what grunts are for. None of us are here by our own volition, Memoridon.”

Soffjian moved her horse forward, and part of me feared she would extend her splayed fingers and drop Mulldoos in the dirt. Another small part of me hoped to see it, at least if she only put him in his place instead of churning his brain like butter. But instead, she reined both her horse and herself in, voice level and cold. “Your political commentary isn’t particularly relevant or interesting to me. But perhaps the Emperor will be more intrigued-you will have ample opportunity to share your views back in Sunwrack.”

If Soffjian was a potential lightning strike, Mulldoos was happy to hoist his sword in the air and march around in his armor. “Cynead’s a plaguing fool. Giving us marching orders home, when we were finally making some headway.” He spit in the dirt. “Emperor or no, man’s still a horsecunt and a half. That ain’t a view, it’s fact.”

Given how much he’d argued with Braylar before on this very point, insisting the Syldoon needed to pull out, I was surprised to see Mulldoos taking essentially the opposite position now. But maybe Vendurro was right-the losses mounted up in ways you couldn’t calculate. Or maybe he just despised his emperor that much. Or enjoyed bating a Memoridon who could destroy him without a touch.

Soffjian gave the pale man a flat, opaque look. “Your successes, failures, or losses are not my concern. My sole purpose here is to ensure you comply with Emperor Cynead’s mandate and Commander Darzaak’s directive and return in a timely fashion. Which it seems your captain intends to disobey, if not in the entirety, at least in spirit.”

Mulldoos started to reply, but Braylar broke in. “The good lieutenant is in the right. We have lost men in this region at imperial behest, sweet sister, and we can never reclaim the fallen or our lost years. That is a soldier’s lot. We receive commands, we obey commands to the fullest of our abilities, and on rare occasions, we receive some commensurate reward. We accept this. And Cynead-” Soffjian started to interrupt but Braylar raised a hand and pressed on. “My apologies- Emperor Cynead has been absent from the front lines for so many years he might have forgotten what the common soldier risks and endures in a dangerous territory far from home. A forgivable lapse, perhaps. But given the cunning intrigues he plays at on a daily basis in his own courtyard, it is surprising he would insist his agents abandon their maneuvering on his behalf.”

“Bray, you overstep-”

“So, while he might have eaten some spoiled fruit, suffered a severe bellyache, and decided to suddenly reverse policy, threatening to undermine everything we have worked so hard to engineer here on his behalf, that is his fickle prerogative, yes? But I will be thrice damned if I will quit this region before doing something to guarantee all of the blood spilled here was not in vain. And I expect when he sees how conscientious we are in our withdrawal, he will appreciate the lengths we have gone to. All for the glory of Empire. And Emperor. Of course.”

Soffjian moved her horse alongside the captain’s, and I thought Scorn was going to bite its face off. Or hers, if it got the chance. “You are involved in a very dangerous game, only you are merely pieces on a board. The only true player who matters is the one who ordered you to return. Promptly. And you can be sure he doesn’t appreciate his pieces suddenly declaring their autonomy or refusing his moves. You would do well to remember your position and role. Brother.”

Braylar laughed, coughed, and rubbed his bruised throat. “Oh, I can tell you without flattering myself in the slightest that my memory is nearly as sharp as a Memoridon’s, Soffjian. You can be sure I have difficulty forgetting anything of import. So never fear. Our detour will not be long, and we’ll return to the road north soon enough. I have no intention of ignoring our mandate or running afoul of our overlord.”

Skeelana watched, mostly with curiosity it seemed to me, as her fellow Memoridon spun her horse around again, laid her heels into its sides and rode off, heading west. And she had a small mischievous smile teetering on her face as she nodded in Braylar’s direction and said only, “Siblings,” before following Soffjian.

Braylar and his lieutenants watched the pair ride ahead before Mulldoos offered, “Be nice if she was riding all the way back to Sunwrack. Only she’s going the wrong way. Same as us, only faster. I wasn’t about to take her side-”

“Greatly appreciated, Mulldoos.”