Levi let out a breath before nodding his agreement. They'd lost one of theirs, too, although they were probably used to it by now. For us, we should have spent time in quiet reflection. Instead, Ura wanted to air her perceived grievances.
"I hope she thinks twice about doing that again," Armon said, spearing a chunk of sausage and placing it in his mouth.
It drew me back to my own plate of food, which I should eat, I reminded myself, to keep up my strength. Ura would do whatever Ura wanted, Armon's hopes aside, the moment she made it back to the Bulldog's barracks.
If she were wise, she'd know that where we'd gone the day before was perhaps the closest thing we'd seen so far of the reality of the war. Instead, she'd focused on the pettiness that was inside her, in total disregard of the deaths that came of it.
I hadn't been introduced to the trainee who died before we'd left camp; therefore, I couldn't put a name to the loss. I imagined there was someone in our group who knew her, however, and perhaps others would mourn her properly when news of her death arrived at North Camp.
"Did you know her?" Levi asked, as if he could read my mind.
"No." My eyes dropped to my plate while shaky fingers toyed with the fork I held. "I didn't get her name before we left—she ran up at the last, holding her side and out of breath."
"And things moved quickly after that," Armon nodded and broke open a piece of bread to swipe butter across it.
"Yes. I'm not sure any of us could have deflected that explosion—she had no real experience."
"I'm surprised the rest of us are alive and having breakfast," Levi grimaced before going silent.
Shoving thoughts on the matter away from my mind, I concentrated on finishing my food. At least Ura wasn't sitting with her pod, casting angry looks in my direction. Her absence would aid my digestion, if nothing else.
K erok
I moved Ura out of Merrin's pod when the trucks were loaded for the final half of our journey; he was angry about it but I no longer cared. She'd caused too much trouble for me to humor his wishes where she was concerned.
Therefore, I loaded into the back of Armon's vehicle, where Levi, Sherra and two warriors from the wrecked vehicles sat. One of those warriors had a broken arm, which a post physician had casted and wrapped. He wouldn't be able to do anything for two weeks, while his arm began to heal. Partial duty and some blast-work could be handled past that. Good enough for the training courses coming soon.
Sherra was buckled in near the back of the truck, so she could shield it and the one behind it when we rolled away from the post.
I wanted to ask her how she felt—how the weakness affected her and whether she was capable of shielding the entire convoy a second time, should the need arise. I kept my questions to myself, fastened the straps around me and swayed with the others as the truck creaked and bounced through the gates toward the road.
Sherra
The ride was a long one, and more than once I wanted to sleep. Levi, sitting nearby, kept a close watch to make sure that didn't happen. Perhaps it was expected, when an escort expended so much power the day before.
Weariness blurred my vision near the end of our journey, but I snapped fully alert the moment the track changed to smooth road, the truck's wheels making an even, monotonous whine on paved ground.
"We're nearing the royal city," Levi explained as I turned toward him, an unspoken question in my mind. "The roads are maintained from this point."
Kerok must have listened in; he sent mindspeak to me, then. The outer roads are left rough to discourage the enemy from traveling them, should they break through our lines of defense. We travel several tracks here, to confuse them, too.
"Food and a bed are waiting," Levi continued, unaware of Kerok's mental explanation. "We'll have three days to rest before we return to the training camp."
Thank you for the explanation, Commander, I replied. I wondered what would happen should the enemy succeed.
They will kill us all, if the army fails to hold them back. His reply was simple and honest. I appreciated that.
"We're coming to the domes," Levi interrupted.
"Domes?"
"The domes covering the King's City," Levi grinned. "You'll see soon enough."
From my seat in the back of the covered truck, I could only see what we passed and not what we were headed toward. That's how I saw the large concrete pipes first.
"What are those?" I asked Levi.
"You see there are separate pipes—one larger, one smaller?" Kerok answered my question.
"Yes," I said aloud, although with a small amount of hesitance.
"The larger pipe carries sea water into the desalination and purification plant. The smaller pipe carries the brine back to the sea. This is how the King's City gets its water, as there are no nearby lakes to supply enough water for those who live here. Sun and wind provide the power for the pumps, you understand."
He was right—the King's City lay in the midst of a desert, and was far from the nearest source of fresh water. The sea was much closer—according to the few maps I'd seen.
I hadn't heard about domes in connection with the King's City before, but then few in my village cared about the King's City. Their days were taken up with the normal toil of survival—maintaining a modest home and feeding themselves and their families.
I doubted any of them had gone more than a few miles away, and that was either to grow or purchase food, find wood to burn or build, and trade with their neighbors for things they needed.
"You may release your shield, trainee," Kerok said, breaking me away from my thoughts. "We are safe enough, here."
We'd just driven past a portal within a thick, clear wall. I breathed a deep sigh—I imagined the domes to be opaque and built of some sturdy material—concrete or the like.
"It's not glass, but a stronger simulation of it," Levi said. "Not that it'll withstand the bombs—if the enemy comes close enough."
When the trees, flowers and shrubs appeared as we drove along a smooth road, I felt awe that such things could exist. My eyes misted—I reached up to wipe the moisture away.
K erok
I'd been born in the King's City, and it held no wonders for me. When I watched Sherra brush tears from her eyes, however, I felt as if I were seeing it for the first time with her.
Until now, desert blooms were likely all she'd seen, and precious few of those. Here, there were plants, trees and flowers that existed in no other place. Their beginnings came from the before-times.
Before the End-War destroyed everything or changed it forever. Most of the population had no thought for what came before—as if their ancestry began after the End-War and not before.
No history of the before-times was taught anywhere. Very little history of the first century after the End-War was known to any. The King's library held records—some impossible to access, others impossible to read as the written languages had changed so much.
Six centuries is a very long time, after all, and those kinds of changes have happened all along. Most people were merely oblivious to it.
"Nothing higher than four stories exists under the domes," Levi informed Sherra, whose widened eyes took in everything she could see from the back of the vehicle. "Everything here is solar or wind-powered—those things we have in abundance," he added.
We were passing through the outer northern dome, which was mostly residential. Regardless, grass grew on some lawns, while others had been left natural. Chances were, Sherra had never traveled more than a few miles from her village all her life, until the truck came to haul her to the training camp.
Most trainees never saw the King's City. Some escorts did, but they had to survive their first season on the battlefield to do so.
My shoulders slumped at that thought. We were in enough trouble as it was, because the numbers of escorts and warriors was dangerously low. If something weren't done soon, well, I wouldn't think about that, now. I watched Sherra instead; if any trainee deserved to see
the King's City, it was she.
Sherra
When we passed the fourth entrance, moving from one massive dome to the next, it was to enter the King's dome, which Levi explained was the tallest, central dome. "The barracks where we'll stay while here are on the southern side, so you'll see the palace on the way," he told me.
Palace. A word from tales and not from experience. An involuntary shiver took me by surprise. It wasn't pleasant, that shiver. Somewhere in the King's palace lay The Book of the Rose—the book that demanded my marking at a young age, and my death a few years later.
CHAPTER 5
Sherra
I blinked as our truck pulled up outside a long, three-story building made of concrete with little embellishment. Yes, we'd passed the King's palace, which was elaborately decorated and contained many windows. Surrounding it were large gardens, with flowers blooming in all colors—enough to take my breath away at the sweet scent of it all.
Bees in plenty buzzed in and around those blooms, intent on collecting pollen and nectar to carry back to a hive somewhere.
That meant the King had sweets whenever he wanted them.
"Come on, time to get food, a bath and a bed," Levi's hand dropped on my shoulder.
"Yes, sir," I said and fumbled with my buckles and straps.
"Commander Kerok, this is fine work," a man appeared at the back of our truck as we prepared to exit the vehicle. "We've never taken so many vehicles at once."
"Thank you, Hunter," Kerok smiled and moved toward the back. Levi and I moved out of Kerok's way so he could climb from the truck first.
Leaping down, as if he were fresh and not weary from a long journey, Kerok clapped Hunter on the back as if he knew him well.
"The King's Advisor," Levi said softly next to my ear. "Kerok sends reports for the King in mindspeak to Hunter."
They did know one another well, then. Squaring my shoulders, I nodded to let Levi know I understood, and followed him out of the truck.
K erok
Dusk came quickly as I followed Hunter to the Command Center; the others would go straight to the barracks, wash faces and hands and then head to the mess for dinner.
I envied them—I had hours of duty left, making my reports in person and writing out the official records to coincide with the earlier, mindspoken messages to Hunter.
I'd have dinner while making my report to the King.
While I walked with Hunter, I could hear Merrin's voice and Ura's laugh behind me. I clenched my teeth and kept to my path.
Merrin would have to be disciplined, as I'd told him more than once to stay away from her. The moment my back was turned, he disobeyed my order. If he held mindspeaking ability, I'd blister his brain cells with my transmitted thoughts.
"The King especially wishes to hear the report regarding the shielding of the entire convoy," Hunter said.
"I thought he would," I agreed and put Merrin's disobedience out of my mind. "I've never seen anything like it before."
"What about the incident in the trainee's barracks afterward? Was she involved in that?"
"Not really, no. I'll explain that to the King when we have dinner."
"Good. I anticipate he'll have questions."
"I'll answer truthfully."
"You always do," Hunter sighed.
"Hunt," I said, "I speak honestly for myself, and not for anyone else. I couldn't live with myself otherwise."
"I know. I can't say the same thing about others," he said. "They embellish or omit, depending on which will gain them the most prestige with the King."
"I'm ultimately responsible for selecting the one who ended up causing the trouble," I pointed out. "As a favor to Merrin, who didn't deserve the favor. He will be dealt with later. She has already received demerits."
"Who trains her at camp?"
"The Bulldog."
"Ah."
Hunter didn't need to say more. The Bulldog's trainees were more trouble on the battlefield than any other instructor's. The most talented among them often required an attitude adjustment, as Armon was fond of saying.
I doubted Sherra would need such—the Bulldog clearly didn't like her, probably because I'd sent a note and not just because Sherra had held the full extent of her talent back.
She called you a jackass, I recalled and muffled a laugh.
"Something funny?" Hunter asked before reaching out to open the door leading into the Command Center.
"Just a memory," I replied. "I'll tell you later."
Sherra
Between laughing at Merrin's attempts at humor, Ura shot malevolent glances in my direction during dinner. After the first few narrow-eyed glares, I deliberately concentrated on my plate of food or Levi's and Armon's faces, depending on who was speaking.
At least I was two tables away from Ura, who couldn't reach me to strike a hit, no matter how much she wanted to do so. Between us lay Wend's table, and Wend pointedly ignored Ura's fake laughter and simpered words, just as I did.
"Pay her no mind," Armon said after a while. "Her punishment will come home to her when training is over."
That wouldn't make it easier on the rest of us in the Bulldog's cohort before then. I didn't voice my opinion aloud—Armon knew it as surely as I did.
"A t least she knows to stay away from us," Wend whispered as she, Jae, Caral and Neka chose cots near mine.
Ura chattered away on the opposite side of our wide room, while those nearby put as much space between Ura and themselves as they could. Ura ignored any slight and went on talking as if they were all interested in her aimless prattle. Depending on the trainee, they either ignored her or feigned attention to her words.
Here, away from the training camp, Ura had sunk to the level she deserved. Only Merrin and one or two other warriors from her pod paid any attention to her at all. Every trainee chosen for this assignment was talented—Ura wasn't one of a special handful, as she imagined herself to be.
"If Veri were here, they'd cause even more trouble, I think," Jae whispered.
"Who is Veri?" Caral came to sit beside Jae on her cot.
"The Bulldog's other pet," Jae mumbled. "They get away with things the rest of us would be punished for. She was mad because Wend and I were picked to come, and she wasn't."
"The Bulldog was mad, too," Wend pointed out. "Her face looked like a dark cloud when the rest of us were chosen and Veri wasn't."
"Lights out," Armon pounded on the outer door. A moment later, the lights went out, leaving us in darkness.
I was glad; it never helped to sit and worry the bone of mistreatment until it became filled with the disease of unrest. In the end, we were all dead—whether we were the Bulldog's favorites or not.
K erok
Hunter read through my report a second time while I flexed my hand to rid it of writing cramp.
"Good," he nodded. "Concise and clear, as always. Come now—dinner with the King is waiting."
"Will Drenn be there?"
"That's my understanding."
I wanted to curse. I held it back and dipped my head in a nod. Following Hunter from the Command Center, we loaded into a vehicle driven by a servant to be hauled to the King's palace.
"Drenn," I dipped my head to the King's eldest son as Hunter and I walked into the less formal dining room for our dinner with the King.
"Thorn, welcome back." My father, the King, smiled and opened his arms as he stood at the head of the table.
Yes, I go by one of my lesser names in the field. In the King's palace, I am Thorn, the King's youngest. Drenn's frown didn't escape my notice as I moved past him to embrace my father.
Hunter calls it sibling rivalry. When I was young, I'd asked Hunter why Drenn disliked me so much.
Because you have power he will never have, Hunter replied. I pointed out that Drenn would have father's place someday, with power over all. Hunter merely shrugged and said, people's emotions often get the better of their intelligence.
I couldn't argue with that assessment,
so I didn't.
"Welcome home," Father embraced me tightly and patted my back. "Your muscles are harder every time," he laughed and pulled away.
"It's good to see you, too, Father," I grinned at him. The only thing marring my welcome here was Drenn's presence, but that couldn't be avoided. Drenn did as he wanted much of the time, unless Father gave a direct command.
Drenn's biggest asset, in my eyes, was the fact that he loved Father as much as I did, and a rebuke from our only living parent made him mope for days.
Drenn didn't have the talent to mindspeak. Father did. Drenn was jealous of that connection between us—something he could never do. It probably made him paranoid, but that was none of my doing and I took no blame for it.
I had the idea that Sherra's mindspeak could blast into his brain, just as it had into the minds of all in the convoy. That was something Father would no doubt be interested in, along with the ability to shield a convoy of twelve vehicles.
"Sit, sit," Father gestured for Drenn, Hunter and me to join him at the table. Beer and water were served with the first course.
"How many others in North Camp have better-than-average talents?" Father asked.
"A handful. I selected the best of the lot to take with me on the vehicle run. One took a direct hit, as I explained before, and is now dead."
"Are any of them as good as the one you call Sherra?"
"Not that I've seen, although I will say this; three of those I selected weren't firsts—two are seconds and another is a third—all from Sherra's cohort."
"So they came from behind, then," Father lifted an eyebrow at my explanation.
"Yes, and quite well." I didn't say that Sherra was one of the seconds.
The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1 Page 6
