Amaskan's Blood by Raven Oak (the best e book reader .TXT) 📗

too much. Don’t know and don’t care. I just want to get this job done and get back to normal.

The guards allowed her to approach unhindered. Even with the scarf around her head and white clothes disguising her, they followed her movements closely. She slowed Midnight to a stop just before the gate but did not dismount. Instead Adelei allowed them to approach.

A young man stumbled his way toward her, beads of sweat popping up across his brow as he took in her massive horse. Midnight remained still, yet the sergeant stopped a good ten feet from her. His face betrayed his youth, and she reexamined her impression of the Alexandrian guard. Even if a full garrison was housed at each tower, if they were all this green, that wasn’t a great sign.

Luckily for him, the young man kept himself in full view at all times. “Master Adelei, you are expected. If you’d lead your horse through those gates on the left, there’s a stable where you can take care of his needs and leave him while you rest. Lieutenant Thomas will be with you shortly.” With a nod of thanks, Adelei led Midnight through the gate and across the border into the Kingdom of Alexander.

Crossing over didn’t magically change the appearance of the land around her, but her muscles tensed in response to her unease. A group of people stood on the other side of the gate, and their mannerisms and postures changed upon sight of her. One person in particular, whose uniform held much more embellishment than the others, glared at her, and she studied the various insignias stitched into the rugged blue cloth.

Must be our Lieutenant Thomas.

For him, she dismounted, doing so slowly and deliberately to give them all a full view of her weapons and relaxed posture. No one offered to take her horse. Good—with me this tense, Midnight would rip the hand off anyone who approached me in this state.

A nearby soldier pointed a shaking hand toward the stable to her left, which was enclosed on all sides with grey stone instead of the sandstone she was used to seeing. A whistle escaped her mouth and behind her, the well-decorated man said, “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“So much stone.”

“Have to keep the sand out or it will rub our mounts bare. Wood would only wear away.”

“Why not sandstone?” she asked. A small turn of her head showed that he followed her at an acceptable distance while he watched Midnight.

“This is Alexander, Master Adelei. We have no intention of resembling your home country.”

“Lieutenant Thomas, is it?” He nodded, and she continued, “There’s no need for the title. I am no Master.”

He tapped a finger against his thin lips. “Our orders from the King stated that a Master Adelei of Amaskan would be traveling from Sadai to Alesta. Are you not her?”

“I-I am. I hadn’t expected your king’s acknowledgement of my status. I’ll have to thank him upon my arrival.” He didn’t catch the sarcasm in her voice, or if he did, he hid it well. She rubbed her finger across the puffy scar forming at her jawline.

She was no Master. She never would be. She wasn’t even Amaskan anymore.

He followed her into the building, which was divided into small stalls, and by the smells and sounds, she noted cows and goats in addition to the horses. She led Midnight into the empty stall and removed her gear, starting first with the saddlebags. Her escort shifted from side to side as he waited, and when Midnight drank thirstily of the provided water, he cleared his throat in reminder.

“Now that Midnight’s been cared for, I suppose formal introductions are in order. Adelei,” she said, and when she extended a hand in greeting, he ignored it.

“Lieutenant Thomas,” he said, and Adelei passed through the stall’s gate. “I’m in charge of the garrison at this stop of the border. I’m to provide you any supplies you may need for your trip to the capital city of Alesta, along with your escort.”

“I appreciate the supplies. Desert is brutal this time of year.” He turned, expecting her to follow him, but she rifled through one of the saddlebags until she found the small jar of aloe.

His thinning hair betrayed the sweat underneath as he ran well-groomed hands through the black and gray strands of what hair remained. Wonderful Gods—a newly promoted lieutenant. She didn’t let it bother her that he feared her; that reaction came with the job, but his lack of experience made her question the military strength of Alexander.

Their troops wouldn’t know the first thing about protection detail if the Tribor were involved. Adelei rubbed salve across the few sore spots on Midnight’s skin while she kept a watchful eye on the Lieutenant.

He’d returned, along with his scowl. “Is this… necessary? We have stablehands who could treat your horse.”

She schooled her face to a complete mask of neutrality; ten years of training had cured her of giving away more than she wanted, and yet today she found herself at odds with her training. Vulnerable. Exposed. That’s how this country made her feel—either that or she was more tired than she suspected.

Master Bredych’s voice whispered in her ear—vulnerability leads to death—and she clenched her teeth as she rubbed the aloe into another sore spot. Midnight shifted his weight and harrumphed, much to the Lieutenant’s dismay.

Adelei dove into the task before her, and the massage coupled with the salve’s relaxing odor let her own body relax. Once it was obvious that she had no intention of leaving until her horse was taken care of, Lieutenant Thomas blathered on at length about the kingdom, the capital city, and anything at all. His own nervousness kept him blissfully unaware of hers as he babbled. She pulled out of her partial trance when he mentioned the princess, Margaret Poncett.

Let’s see what the greenie will tell me. She asked in Alexandrian, “What can you tell me about her?”

He opened his mouth and closed it quickly. Thomas schooled his