Brian McClellan - Servant of the Crown

Tamas felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly. Erika was already shooting better than most infantrymen. Once he taught her how to float a bullet she would take the apple off a tree at three quarters of a mile. Spending the night out in the country with a gorgeous woman, shooting pistols and muskets, sounded like the best idea he’d ever heard.

He cursed silently to himself. He had to remember who she was. Fighting his urge to say yes, he shook his head. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I … I just don’t think it would be appropriate without a chaperone.”

“Not appropriate? You keep telling me how well I’m doing and you still insist on helping me adjust my aim. That’s not appropriate.”

Tamas thought about standing behind her, pressed close, his hand on hers under the stock, arm around her shoulder as they look down the rifle barrel together. He suppressed a smile. Pit, what was he doing? He couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t stopped me.”

“Maybe I like it.” Erika swayed into him, her shoulder gently knocking against his chest, and then gave a playful skip. “Come on. Tell me what the matter is.”

Tamas stopped and watched her walk on ahead. When she noticed, she came back around, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I’ve just come from an audience with the king,” Tamas said.

Erika’s playfulness was gone. She leaned forward. “Really? A private audience?”

“It wasn’t anything good. This is the second time he’s called me in and had me stand there while he ignored me.”

“Perhaps he’s testing you.”

“I don’t think so. He’s using me in some game with the cabal. I’m no use to him otherwise. Just a common soldier.”

“You’re a commoner who has risen to the rank of captain. You’re nothing short of extraordinary.”

Tamas looked up sharply to see if she was mocking him, but her expression was in earnest. “No,” he said. “It’s the cabal. I know it. But anyways, that’s not it. Tonight I tried to use that knowledge to get him to help me.”

“You tried to leverage the Iron King?” Erika said, giving a nervous laugh. “How big are your balls?”

Tamas blanched at her choice of expression. “It was a mistake.”

“I’ll say. What did you want his help with?”

“Nothing,” Tamas said. This wasn’t something she needed to know. She might want to offer help, and he could not accept it. He would feel too much a cad.

She leaned closer to him and looked up. He could have kissed her without bending more than a few inches. “I don’t think it’s nothing,” she said. “Is it about that duel with Captain Linz?”

“It is nothing for you to concern yourself over,” he said.

She stepped away. “If you insist. Do you have anything scheduled tomorrow?”

“No,” Tamas said. He was an unwanted soldier without a campaign. He was under suspension. What few duties he had left to him could be finished in a couple hours each week.

“Then we should leave the city tonight. We can shoot until our eyelids are heavy then camp until afternoon. Then in the evening we’ll work through the fencing forms I’ve been showing you.”

They had arrived at the door to his small, first-floor tenement. Tamas used the opportunity to turn away from her. Every instinct was telling him to say no. If he went, it could be nothing but practice, even if he wanted something more. Even if she wanted something more, which seemed beyond possible.

He tried to tell himself that her flirtatiousness was just his imagination. There was no possible way that a girl of her cleverness and station would allow herself to feel anything for a commoner.

She looked at him, eyes half-lidded, biting her bottom lip. His heart hammered in his head.

“All right,” he said breathlessly. “Let me just …”

He caught it then. It was very faint, and at first he thought it just his imagination. But a moment later the scent intensified.

Jasmine perfume.

“No,” he said.

“You just …” Erika began.

Tamas cut her off. “No. I can’t. Too much to do. This is just … just child’s play. You should go. Now.” His voice rose until the last word was nearly a shout. Erika stepped back, her face scrunched with alarm, her hand on her sword, and Tamas realized how violently the words had come out.

“I’m not a child.” Erika said. Her tone was steel.

“Yes, you are. Now leave.”

Erika whirled on her heel without another word, striding through the falling snow. Tamas couldn’t help but feel a deep regret as she left, but he knew it was for the best.

He cracked a powder charge and sprinkled half of it on his tongue. The scent of jasmine intensified, and Tamas could feel the presence of the Privileged on the other side of the door. He removed the iron key from his pocket and turned the lock, then stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

He kept a hand on the butt of his pistol and peered through the darkness with his heightened senses. His was not a large home. The living space was nothing more than a coal stove, a table, two chairs, and a cupboard. A door to his left led to his small, cramped bedroom.

Privileged Dienne sat on the other side of the table, fingers steepled in front of her face, wearing her gloves. The window behind her into the courtyard of his tenement was open, allowing the snow to blow gently onto his floor. She was flanked by two of her cabal guards, their hands resting on the pommels of their sabers. Two more guards stood to either side of the door, and when he had closed it they moved almost silently to take up positions behind him.

The attack came so quickly Tamas could hardly react. The two guards each grasped one of his arms, yanking his hand away from his pistol. He spun toward one of them, wrenching his opposite arm free, grasping for his belt knife.

His free arm was snatched again, and he was forced into a brief wrestling match. His powder trance gave him more speed and strength than both men together. He cracked one in the nose with his elbow and finally got a hold of his knife. He brought it up and around.

And found himself unable to move.

He strained at the invisible bonds that held him, eyes seeking Privileged Dienne. Her fingers twitched slightly, and he could feel the trickle of sorcery that she pulled into this world.

His arms were forcibly returned to his side, his knife and pistol taken from him. By the time the sorcery released him, the two guards held him in such a way as would force him to break his own arms if he struggled.

“Who’s the girl?” Dienne asked, finally breaking the silence.

“No one of importance,” Tamas said through clenched teeth.

“Shall I go after her, my lady?” the guard beside her asked, his voice a bass rumble.

“We’ll find out who she is soon enough,” Dienne said, waving dismissively. “Captain Tamas, you have one opportunity to tell me what the king wishes of you. If you don’t, I will begin to burst the molars in the back of your mouth, one at a time, until you have no teeth left.”

Tamas relaxed completely, letting himself sag against the two guards that held him. “I won’t be able to talk through that kind of pain.”

“You’re a powder mage. I suspect that your pain tolerance is rather high, and considering how well you saw me in the dark I imagine that you’re running a powder trance right now. Don’t try to toy with me, Captain. You’ll do fine.”

“Why do you care what the king wants with me?”

“This isn’t a conversation,” the guard holding Tamas’s left arm said. “You will not ask questions.”

Tamas turned his head and coughed, as if clearing his throat, then spit a wad of phlegm into the guard’s eye.