The Praetorian
Part 9
The lovemaking was tender and carefree, the kind that two people experience after a sweet reunion. Duncan’s aches and pains were forgotten. Afterwards, while she dozed lightly in his bed, he made his way to the bathhouse and cleaned himself up. He was amazed at the multiple levels of grime that had accumulated on his body since the battle. Now, for the first time in a long time, he felt refreshed and presentable.
He returned to his quarters to find Jarren awake and waiting for him in bed. He removed his robe and joined her. She sidled up next to him and wrapped her arms around him.
“Mmm, you smell much better. More relaxed, too.”
“You seem to have that effect on me.”
“And you shaved!” She caressed his smooth cheeks and ran a finger along his scar. “You’re starting to look almost human.”
Duncan chuckled. “A fine judge you make.”
Jarren’s left hand retreated from his face and probed beneath the sheets along his naked body. “Be mindful of what you say, I have your most prized possession in my grasp. One false move…”
Duncan appeared unfazed. “Go ahead. I’m a Praetorian. I’m trained to handle anything.”
“We’ll see about that.”
They laughed together and held each other for a long while. The sun had long since set before either of them spoke again.
“My Lady,” whispered Duncan. That was his pet name for her. It began as a genuine statement of honor when he first met her. She was a cabinet minister’s daughter and he was the head page in the federal parliament — his foster-father’s idea of preparing him for future service to his country. Even after they fell in love, he still called her that.
Jarren looked at him impishly. “Yes?”
“I was genuinely surprised to see you up on that parapet. I had no idea you were here.”
“Hawkwin decided to begin his inspection tour early. The Palladum’s our first stop.”
“Where is he now?”
“He left the fortress shortly after noon to make his rounds through some of the nearby frontier outposts. He gave me the rest of the day off and told me that he’d send word of his return. I was quickly growing bored until you arrived. You saved me. You always save me.”
“I wish it was intentional. I almost didn’t make it here alive.”
“I know.” Jarren always found it difficult to hear of Duncan’s missions. She never knew if their next meeting would be the last. She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that always came when she considered these thoughts. With a shaky voice she stammered, “I’m sorry I waited so long to find you but I knew you’d be busy. You care too much for your people.”
Duncan smiled. He was lucky to find someone who understood so well. As he touched her face, a crack in his Praetorian stoicism appeared in his eyes.
Jarren noticed it right away. “Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered in his ear.
She lifted her head and their eyes locked. Blinking back tears, he recounted the story of the battle. He covered every detail while Jarren lay next to him listening intently. She didn’t say a word. She just let him speak and watched as the tension slowly left his body. She knew that he needed this time. He was the sort of person who kept his feelings bottled up. He needed a receptacle, someone who would understand, listen and perhaps even share his burden. She was willing to assume those roles and more if he asked.
Finally, he stopped talking and looked more troubled. “There was one thing I didn’t tell Marcus, something that Wallace never understood.”
“How you knew about the ambush.”
“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Duncan turned onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. “I’ve always been able to assess a combat situation perfectly — I’ve come to trust my instincts. But this was different. It was a frightening feeling. I could see what they were planning. It was as if I knew their thoughts and they knew mine.”
Jarren could see that Duncan sought advice but she didn’t know what to say. Her next question was something she dreaded to ask. She spoke with a whisper because she didn’t want Duncan to hear the crack in her voice. “Is that why they let you go — because you made contact?”
Duncan looked up at her and stroked her face. She was so beautiful. He choked at the thought of losing her and realized how difficult it was for her to discuss this. “There were settlements in the northern forests hundreds of years before the Federate was even established. In all that time, no one has ever been able to communicate with them. We just assumed that they were a hostile force.”
“They are!”
“I know, but we’re not hostile by nature so who’s to say that they are? In war, the rules change. People are driven to extraordinary actions. Atrocities are committed on all sides, atrocities that defy our nature.”
“But the Teivans —” She caught herself too late.
Duncan breathed deeply. “We haven’t abandoned humanity, you know that — I’m living proof! So what if we speak a different language or believe in a different religion? These differences are irrelevant! The fact that my people choose to live peacefully in the forest doesn’t mean that they collaborate with the enemy. We’ve had our share of confrontations. It’s just that we’ve figured out how to stay out of the grimals’ way.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. You know that.”
“I’m frustrated, that’s all. Tired and frustrated.”
Jarren drew herself close to him and the two of them lay there together. Duncan whispered “My Lady” softly into her ear and she responded by holding him even tighter.
After a few moments, she broke the silence. “Romi…” Only two people knew his true Teivan name, and she was one of them. He looked at her, and she continued softly. “Why don’t you use your birth name? Leave the Federate one behind. It’s not who you are.”
“You know why.”
“You’re a ranking officer now. You command your own company! Surely you’ve earned the respect of your comrades.”
Duncan lay there, his disappointment clear on his face. “You should have seen my meeting earlier with Captain Marcus. We were chatting quite nicely until I told him I was Teivan. Then his manner became cold.”
“He’s just one man. What about the people back at Valandov or your own troops here? You saved their lives.”
“I ordered a retreat that led to the first loss in the Praetorship’s history.”
“You know that’s not true!”
“That’s how they see it. And then I led them on a backwoods trail to the Palladum. I had the courage to lead them through grimal territory on a Teivan path, but not back into battle to avenge the deaths of our own people. I led them through the forest for ten days without incident. It’s no wonder they think we’re in league with the grimms. To my troops, I’m a Teivan and a coward.”
“Romi!”
“It’s the truth.”
They lapsed back into silence. Jarren tried to think of a way to ease her lover’s burden, but there was nothing to do. She nuzzled closer to him, and he embraced her in his arms. They lay there together until the serenity was broken by a loud knock on the door.
With a gentle kiss, Duncan left her and headed for a nearby table where a change of clothes was folded neatly. He pulled on the breeches and slipped the shirt over his head before seeing who was there. He opened the door to find a tall, burly man waiting impatiently. He was an older fellow with a gray mop of hair covering a face that was streaked with lines of experience. He was decked out in armor that was cracked and stained from extensive use. His shoulders bore the likeness of a sword in the image of a conifer, with the hilt forming the trunk and the blade forming the conical shape of a pine tree — the crest of the Federated States. Beneath that were two stars with three chevrons.
“Excuse me, but I’m looking for my chief of staff. She’s responsible for my scheduling and I’m not entirely sure where I’m supposed to be right now.”
Duncan immediately snapped to attention and saluted. “General!”
The commanding officer rolled his eyes. “Duncan, you don’t need to do any of that for me! Has the Praetorship sapped all the humor from you?”
The general walked into the room and lifted the captain off his feet with an enormous bear hug. Once he was let go, Duncan leaned against the door to close it while gasping for air. He grinned. “Cyril, Jarren told me you were here, but the Palladum’s so big, I didn’t know where to start smelling.”
General Cyril Hawkwin put his bracer to his nose while Duncan walked past him to the bed. “I just cleaned this last week!”
Duncan lit a lantern and the room was quickly bathed in warm yellow light. “You needed new armor ten years ago! I’m surprised it hasn’t started growing its own fungus.”
The general folded his arms. “Is that how you address the commander of the Federate armies?”
“I thought you said I didn’t have to worry about that.”
“I changed my mind,” growled Hawkwin.
Duncan sat down on the bed and looked at Jarren fondly. It seemed like they never had enough time. He knew by the way that she returned his gaze that she felt the same way.
He addressed the general. “I assume you’ve spoken to Captain Marcus?”
“Yes, you and your platoon will remain here until the Grand-General sends word of his decision. You’ll be given regular duty shifts, so don’t consider it a vacation. Write a full report, and I’ll supplement it with testimony from your junior officers. Tomorrow evening, we’ll send a priority message to Valor’s Keep and find out exactly what they want you to do.”
“How long will it take for them to respond?”
“About ten days, perhaps as much as two weeks. It all depends on how quickly the Grand-General and his advisory council react.”
The seriousness of the moment was interrupted by a loud rumble from Duncan’s belly. Hawkwin and Jarren stared at him incredulously.
“I’m sorry,” defended Duncan, “I haven’t had a solid meal in a while.”
The general headed for the door. “Come, get dressed and we’ll go to the mess hall. They’re still serving dinner. I gave your troops the next couple of days off, though they’re not allowed to leave the fort. It’ll be good for them to see you up and about. Besides, they’ll likely have many questions that you’ll need to answer.”
Duncan and Jarren got up. He began to put on his uniform — identical to Marcus’ — and she dressed herself while Hawkwin’s back was turned.
“Besides,” added the general, “you and I have a lot of catching up to do. With your lady’s permission, of course.”
Jarren smirked and Duncan looked away to hide his sudden blush. They left his quarters and made their way to the nearby mess hall.
*
After dinner, Duncan was summoned to the field hospital. The corporal who had had the grimal claw in his lung was dead.
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
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