DESIREE felt every eye on her as she made her way to the front of the crowd. Her feet moved of their own accord as her mind raced through everything she had ever done to bring her to this moment. What could she have possibly done to gain the attention of Salos and that woman? A horrible thought bloomed in head, sending her blood rushing to her face.
What if they thought she was involved with the rebels who had pursued her and Xander the other night?
Anxiety twisted Desiree's stomach in knots as she approached Captain Salos and the woman. Her frozen hands turned clammy as her already dry mouth became a desert. How would they punish her? Would they string her decaying body for the masses to see? Would they go after her aunt? Divine be damned, if they went after Aunt Jessa–
"Soldier Renarii," the woman said, removing one of her leather gloves. Her lips twisted into a grin that didn't reach her eyes as she extended a pale hand to Desiree. "I'm Commander Atlas Bane of the Retrievers Unit. You and I will be seeing a lot of each other for the next few days."
Divine be damned, indeed. A fucking Retriever had been sent for Desiree. It was shock in its purest form that prevented Desiree's jaw from falling to the ground. She reached for the Commander's outstretched hand. "Commander Bane, it's a pleasure."
"Do you know why I'm here, Soldier?" Commander Bane sat behind Captain Salos's worn oak desk as if it were her own. Under different circumstances, Desiree would have smirked. Sitting beside her, Salos's thinly veiled annoyance radiated off of him like an aura.
"I'm afraid I don't, Commander." Desiree fought the urge to squirm in her seat.
Atlas Bane leaned forward in her chair, folding her hands together on top of Salos's desk. "Were you aware that your actions on the Winter Solstice directly led to the capture of five rebels?"
Salos's eyebrows shot upwards, all but disappearing into his receding hairline. "And what actions were those?"
Desiree bristled, glancing between the Captain and the Commander. "I was hunting in the forest with a companion."
"And who exactly gave you permission to hunt in the woods with what I'm assuming was a government issued weapon?" Salos demanded, his confusion turning to anger.
"Uh, you did, sir." Desiree found herself wishing Commander Bane would simply execute her on the spot.
A faint look of amusement slid over the Commander's features. "Am I to understand, Captain," she spit Salos's title as if she were speaking of some unsavory thing, "that you are unable to keep tabs on the soldiers under your command?"
It was Captain Salos's turn to bristle as his face turned a brilliant shade of red. He began to stammer out his reply, but was mercifully interrupted by Bane.
"It's no matter," the Commander said, waving Salos off as she turned her attention to Desiree. "It was my understanding that you were alone in the forest. Is that not the case?"
"No," Desiree said. "I was with a fellow soldier Xander Quinn. I fell and hit my head while running from what we believed to be rebels. Xander carried me back to camp."
"Xander Quinn," Bane murmured, leaning back in her seat. "I'm afraid I don't recall reading that name on the roster. Captain Salos, surely that name would be familiar to you?"
Salos stewed in his chair, embarrassment and fury written all over his ruddy face. "No, Commander," he spat, "it is not."
Commander Bane smirked in feline satisfaction, a cat who caught a mouse. Desiree couldn't help but wonder if the act of making a man feel small was a regular passtime of Atlas Bane. Bane stood up, not bothering to let her victory set in as she walked around the desk. "Soldier Renarii, I would like to offer you a promotion."
"My men have found no sign of Soldiers Quinn and Thentos."
Commander Bane's words bit into Desiree harder than the frosty afternoon air. She opened her mouth to object, but Bane continued, "They searched the entire camp as well as three miles of the surrounding forest. If they were here, we would have found them."
Desiree's heart sank to her stomach. How Xander and Selene managed to vanish off of the face of the earth was beyond baffling. There had to be some logical explanation to this. She shifted on her feet, worrying at her bottom lip. Maybe she could convince the Commander to follow up with Captain Salos. She was sure her friends would turn up soon. They had to.
A hand on her shoulder jerked Desiree back to the present. "Renarii," Commander Bane said. Her cold, gray eyes were void of emotion as she stepped away to untie her mare, an impatient brown and white pinto, from her post. "We need to get a good start before nightfall."
Desiree nodded her understanding, even as concern for her friends continued to gnaw at her gut. One of Bane's subordinates showed Desiree to her horse, a pretty chestnut colored mare, and held out his hands to help her mount. She stepped into the man's awaiting hands and swung her other leg over the mare. She squirmed, trying to get at least somewhat comfortable on the stiff saddle to no avail.
She was in for a long ride indeed.
Desiree's thighs and backside were burning by the time Commander Bane signaled it was time to stop for the night. Five of Bane's subordinates went about setting up camp, three of them erecting three tents while the other two built a large fire. After watching Desiree struggle for several minutes, a woman came over to help. She was around Desiree's height, maybe even an inch or so shorter than her, and had mousy brown hair that was bound into two plaits down her back.
The woman wrapped her arms around Desiree's thighs and lifted her the rest of the way off of the mare before letting her slide to the ground. She stepped back and studied Desiree with curious brown eyes. "Did they ever feed you anything other than table scraps?"
Desiree frowned, bristling. She knew she had lost some weight since being drafted, but she didn't realize how noticeable it had become. "We have–we had rations. It wouldn't surprise me if the Quarter Legion is at the bottom of the military budget."
The woman spun on her heel and made for the campfire.
Desiree followed behind her, trying to keep up the best she could with her stiff, throbbing legs. The smell of stew mixed with various spices wafted through the air, delighting Desiree's senses as her stomach made its emptiness known. She tried her best not to drool all over herself as she took a seat with the others around the fire. The woman who had helped her off of the mare took a seat next to her, holding two canteens in her hands.
"Tundra Legion is the official name of your former legion," the woman said, more of a statement than a question. "Why did you refer to it as the 'Quarter Legion'?"
Desiree blinked. What rock had this woman been living under? She'd only heard her legion's official name a handful of times, everyone always referred to it by its macabre nickname. "Because you'll never meet a foot soldier in Tundra that's older than twenty-five."
The woman's brows furrowed. "Why?"
"They either get promoted or die. Usually the latter."
The woman nodded, satisfied with Desiree's answer and handed her the canteen. "How old are you?"
"Twenty," Desiree said. Her eager fingers detached the metal spoon from the side of the canteen and fished out a heaping spoonful. It took all of her remaining strength not to abandon the spoon entirely and drink out the canteen. Beside her, the woman's eyes remained on Desiree, studying every movement even as she ate her own supper. "I'm assuming you know my name," Desiree said in between bites, "What's yours?"
"Soldier Lairyn Atris, Raven Legion," the woman said. Desiree started to ask about the Raven Legion, whose name was unbeknownst to her, but Lairyn continued, head cocked in intrigue, "Renarii. Your last name is Tarrinean but your red hair and bone structure suggest your lineage hails from Obryn."
"I didn't realize that redheads were specific to only Obryn, Soldier Atris." Desiree's voice was wry as she eyed Lairyn. Her father and aunt were Tarrinaean, she knew that much. Her mother was born Alydian, but whether or not her parentage was Obrynite, Desiree didn't know or particularly care.
The soft glow of the campfire illuminated Lairyn's light brown skin as she stood up, empty canteen in hand. "I suppose I wouldn't know."
✧✦✧
By the time Desiree had awoken, eaten a small breakfast, and mounted her mare, whom she'd nicknamed Chestnut, the makeshift camp had already been disassembled and packed away into the compact, but sturdy wagon attached to Lairyn's midnight colored mare. Desiree wondered at first why Lairyn was chosen to make up the rear of the group until she saw the giant sword strapped down her back and an equally dangerous gleam in her eyes.
The morning and afternoon were an eternity. Desiree spent the hours squirming in her seat, guzzling down scalding hot tea, and shoving jerky down her burnt throat until her stomach was so full she feared she might vomit. While waiting for her stomach to settle, she closed her eyes tightly and listened to Chesnut's hooves crunching in the old snow.
"You and Soldier Atris have become acquainted."
Desiree started, her eyes flying open. She had failed to notice Commander Bane falling back from the front of the group to ride next to her. She looked over at Bane, whose expression remained that of uninterested neutrality. The Commander's pinto tossed her head, letting both riders know she'd prefer to be back at the head of the group with an impatient whinny. "Yes," Desiree said after a moment. "She's…interesting."
Bane gave a quick nod of agreement. "That she is. I think you'll find that most Purebreds are a lot like Lairyn Atris."
"Purebreds?"
Atlas Bane regarded the bewildered puzzlement on Desiree's face with a look of faint amusement. It was the same look she'd given Captain Salos, a predator playing with her prey before making the kill. "Soldiers who are born into the Retrievers Unit, we call them Purebreds."
Commander Bane nudged her horse forward, outpacing the others to make her way back to the front, leaving Desiree's mind to reel with this new information.
Desiree attempted to wrap her head around the idea of people being born into the military. She hadn't asked Lairyn her age, but even stoic as she was, there was that coltish way she interrogated Desiree as if she were some new item to fawn over. She had to be somewhere in her late teens to early twenties, which meant that the breeding of soldiers had started even before the current True King was Anointed. Desiree's stomach turned over as she pondered just what exactly she had gotten herself into.
The lovely snow-coated evergreens gradually became scarce, fading into a series of steep, rolling hills. Desiree opened her canteen and drank deeply from the still warm tea she was given that morning, willing some warmth into her body. Mercifully, the wind was still. The sky, however, was full with gray clouds that threatened to spill snow at any moment. She hoped it would hold off until they had reached their destination.
As the hours ticked by, ever so slowly, Desiree willed herself not to fall asleep atop Chestnut. She'd hardly slept the night before, despite being nestled between the other two female soldiers that made up Commander Bane's entourage. She just hadn't been able to settle her mind after the day's events. Getting out of the hell hole that was the Quarter Legion brought her a sense of hope she hadn't felt in years, but her concern for Xander and Selene had only continued to grow. Her friends would never just vanish into thin air. Xander was punctual to a fault, and Selene would never miss an opportunity to get away from the sick and dying that lay hopeless in the infirmary. They were fine. They had to be. Desiree would accept no other conclusion.
Desiree jolted as Chestnut stopped abruptly. How she had managed to doze off while staying upright on a horse was beyond her, and one look at the looming iron fence in front of her sent every thought eddying out of her head.
Two large gates swung open, seemingly of their own accord. Desiree willed her mouth to remain shut as her eyes found their way to Commander Bane.
Bane glanced back at Desiree, reading the raw fascination and awe on her face. The corners of her own lips twitched upwards in what could almost be described as a smirk. "Desiree Renarii, welcome to the Fox Legion headquarters."