ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝕆ℕ𝔼

𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵

I slowed Delta to a trot as we approached the stables. A wooden tavern loomed ahead, filled with loud voices, laughter, and ale. It's just what I needed after a long day.

    Dismounting, I tied Delta to a post, while slipping a dagger into my boot. Weapons technically weren't allowed in the tavern, but you could never be too careful.

    It wasn't as if someone would dare to confront me.

    Loose gravel skidded around my boots as I took the path to the tavern's door. The closer I approached, the louder the ensemble of voices sounded, and the stronger the scent of whiskey filled the air.

    Entering, I saw a wild sight: people happily drinking the night away, drunken men vomiting the remains of their suppers, and bartenders actively filling drink glasses. Searching the room, I found my destination, weaving through the crowded tavern to arrive at the small table, a single seat reserved for me.

    It took a moment for my companions to notice me, both deeply engrossed in a game of darts. It wasn't until I loudly pulled back my chair that they turned.

    The first man was George Hart, a captain in Oriad's army. He was a bear of a man but had a kind soul. He towered over his companions and was a menace in battle, yet he advocated for the rights of the common folk.

    Oriad was a wealthy kingdom with some of the poorest cities and villages in the nation. The king was a pig, greedy at heart keeping the kingdom's wealth to afford the most luxurious clothes and decadent foods. Illegally leaving the kingdom was punishable by death, even for someone with a rank like mine.

    The people were forced to work in the fields or mines from dawn till dusk for a payment of up to three silver pieces a day. Barely enough to buy a loaf of bread. It was a ploy to get the people to sign up for the army.

    In the army, you were paid well and given a home and warm meals. Every rank in the army had more benefits, each one being given a more comfortable life. It was a disgusting scam.

    The second man was Dell Amesbury. He was younger than George and I and had recently been promoted to lieutenant. He was determined, and even when he was a recruit, was set on being the best soldier he could be. He reminded me of myself when I was younger.

    "Ah, General Blackwoode," George mocked. "We were wondering when you would stroll in."

    I rolled my eyes as he knew well that I preferred to be called by my name, Graeme. Being the General was a title I temporarily held, but my name was permanent. "Okay, Captain." I glowered at him, as he returned the action. "How's your day been, captain?"

    "Gen- Graeme, and George, don't you two think we can move on from this topic?" Dell joined our conversation. With him, I didn't mind the title he addressed me by. It was hard for him to adjust from calling me General all day to Graeme in private. George and I had known each other for years, and I knew he wouldn't slip up.

    "Dell has a point. Come on Graeme, settle down and relax for a night."

    "It's been a long day. That i-" I caught myself before calling the King an 'idiot'. Even though my mates agreed with my thoughts, you had to watch what you say in a public place like a tavern. There were plenty of people who would happily report someone for treason, receiving a hefty amount of gold in return. "...incredible man, the King, has called me to attend three war meetings today, private conversations, and supervising a training session."

    "Yes, but you're the General. One of the most successful and honored men in the kingdom. Surely, it's worth it?" Dell butted in, the awe in his voice evident.

    "Sometimes. The meetings are mind-numbing, yet everyone is driven to panic with threats of war from Ravennisse."

    "Ay, there's always threats of war from Ravennisse," George added, only to be shut down by my comments.

    "This time is different. If you attended the war meetings, you would understand that because Ravennisse is also battling Maplemaw, they require soldiers, land, and supplies. Oriad has all of these, but instead of trying to ally with us, they want to conquer and force us to be part of the country."

    Ravennisse was the largest country in our nation, set on world dominance. They had been waging wars for decades, conquering the old country of Glaciavge. At this time, they also conquered most of Oriad. The old leaders had struck a bargain, leaving the country independent, but a fraction of its previous size.

    That's why the army was so powerful in Oriad. Everyone feared Ravennisse, and we had spent decades building the army. It seemed that they had returned to old habits, ravaging the country of Maplemaw. They were the most prosperous country, always fair with their trades. They had remained neutral in affairs before this, but Ravennisse's desire for land seemed to expel this.

"You said it yourself, Graeme. 'The meetings are mind-numbing'," George playfully bantered back, his attention returned to the darts match.

"You have a certain duty as a captain," my voice was commanding, yet I knew it wouldn't be enough to change George's opinion. Even if he wouldn't attend the war meetings, his skill in battle was undeniable and would cement his rank as a captain.

    Knowing I had lost his attention, I called for an ale, turning my attention to the dart game that George had deemed more important than the war meetings. A neat pile of gold lay on a barrel, spoils for the winner.

    A man around my age with a shaven head held a dart in his hand, holding it back ready to throw. I recognized him, a skillful hunter-turned-archer in the army. Throwing, the dart landed a little way from the center as onlookers cheered.

    His competitor was a figure in a brown hooded cloak, pulled low to hide his face. His movement was fluid, the dart flying in a swift line to hit the center. "No one's been able to beat the hooded figure all night." I heard Dell mumble beside me.

    Intrigued, I continued watching. The archer's second dart landed even closer to the center than his first while the hooded figure threw his second dart to land beside his first. The archer, irritated by now, rushed his final dart, not taking enough time to aim as it landed in the third ring of the dartboard. The hooded figure threw another one, just to the right of the center.

    It almost seemed as if they had purposely done so.

    The game continued like that, the archer's annoyance continuing to rise as each round passed poorer for him. Eventually, the cloaked figure won the game, scooping the gold into a pouch that was tied to his belt.

    Pats of condolence were offered to the archer, but most people were focused on the cloaked figure. They silently spun around the room, as if daring for someone to challenge them. "You should go against them, Graeme." I heard Dell utter.

    "In fact, I think I will," I murmured, my interest piqued. "Let's see if they'll go on unbeatable after this."

    Standing up from my seat, I strolled over to the hooded figure, the attention of the tavern on me. They turned to face me, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of their face. Most of it was hidden by a mask, but I saw a pair of shimmering blue eyes.

    He was likely a foreigner. Blue eyes were uncommon in Oriad. The only person I knew who had them was George, his grandparents were immigrants from Glaciavge. Turning away, he began rummaging through his pouch, his hand emerging with a hefty amount of gold, and, two beautiful gemstones. Even in the dim light, I saw the numerous colors shimmering on the gemstone's surface. Opal.

    He's betting big. He could be getting overconfident, I thought while raising an eyebrow.

    Digging through my pouch, I dropped a sizeable amount of assorted coins onto the barrel. He scanned it for a moment before subtly moving his hand toward the barrel. It was a swift movement, one that was for my eyes only.

A wry smirk spread across my face as I bent to my boot, grabbing the dagger I had stashed away earlier. "The blade is made of pure gilded iron, enchanted to never wear. Fair?" I whispered to the hooded figure while casually flicking the dagger to stick on top of the battle.

Watching him for a reaction, he gave a small nod while gathering his darts in one hand. Not much of a talker.

Taking our positions, he looked at me expectantly. Taking the sign, I gingerly held the dart between my fingers in my right hand, aiming. Pulling back, I released only for the dart to land a few millimeters from the center. Furrowing my brows, I went to remove my gloves to get a better grip on the dart.

By the time I looked up again, the hooded figure had stuck his dart perfectly in the center.

My second dart joined it.

The game continued like this until we both held one final dart, baited breaths from onlookers around us. The tavern was more silent than I could ever remember, every person concentrated on the two of us.

This was the round that would determine the winner, both of us needing to hit a perfect bullseye to win. Taking a deep breath, I held back my dart to throw it one final time.

Releasing it, it began to fly toward the center. It would have made it, it should have made it.

He must have released just after mine, as I only saw a blur flying toward my dart, connecting and blowing it to stick uselessly in the wall, completely missing the board. In return, the hooded figure's red dart stuck in the board, barely hitting the outer ring.

The tavern erupted into cheers as the figure stepped to the barrel, their cloak billowing around them. I stood there for a moment, watching them, a mixture of emotions festering. Confusion, fascination, and irritation conflated in my mess of sentiments.

"I have one request," I spoke, looking toward the hooded figure. Turning, they faced me, their head tilted at an angle as if to say 'Go on'. "Who are you? Take off that hood and mask and let us see the man who possesses the talent to beat everyone in this tavern."

The hooded figure hesitated, looking around the room as if searching for condolences to not complete my task. The onlookers only began cheering, just as eager to learn the identity of him.

After making a full rotation, he looked at me for a moment before turning his attention to the floor. Slowly, they brought their hands to their hood and began to lower it from their head. Blonde hair, tightly pulled into a bun was revealed as the hood fell to their back. Even slower, the mask was lowered from his face as he looked up from the floor to meet my gaze.

Yet, the face that met mine wasn't a "he".

It was a woman's face.

She was stunning and looked like she should belong in the royal chambers instead of a tavern. Her eyes and hair accommodated her face perfectly. Soft, rose lips, and glowing olive skin

She certainly didn't belong in a tavern.

I stared at her, my eyes slightly narrowed in confusion. Meanwhile, a cacophony of voices mingled, oppressed speech meeting my ears.

"She's a woman. She couldn't have beaten all these men without cheating. That's the general there, y'know."

"Women have no place at a tavern, especially this late. Shouldn't she be caring for her family?"

"Cheat!"

That was something that was ringing throughout the entire tavern. One word united them all. 'Cheat'.

Throwing the hood over her head once again, the woman started making her way toward the exit before an arm swept out, stopping her from continuing. George stood up from his seat, standing in front of the woman, before angrily speaking.

"Ivrette, what have I told you about sneaking out this late? There are bandits and dangers in the woods at night. Women have no place in a tavern either." George towered over the woman, Ivrette, and even though she looked small in his wake, she didn't cower as she bit back.

"You may be a captain, but you have no control over me. I'm not a little girl anymore, I can make my own decisions, George."

Assessing them for another moment, I was able to define the connection between them. George had mentioned that he had two older brothers and a younger sister. They both had rare blue eyes.

Ivrette was George's sister.

"But, you are in more danger than all of us traveling outside, alone, at night. I'm giving you one last warning, but after this, I will personally guard your chambers. Come along, we're leaving." George took his sister by her arm after giving her a scolding and began to escort her to the door. He looked embarrassed, leading her through the crowd, when a voice broke through the noise.

"I think you should return all that you've won. You couldn't have won without cheating," a voice broke through the noise, and looking in the direction where it came from, I saw it was the archer that Ivrette had beat earlier.

She snarled in his direction, opening her mouth to bite back a remark before George silenced her, continuing to lead her outside. Before, people had been shuffling out of the way to let them through, but as the archer's comments met their ears, the people formed a tight wall, not allowing the pair to pass.

They began shouting at her, demanding that she return her winnings. The entire tavern was against them, even Dell.

We weren't so similar after all.

"Piss off," my voice was commanding, taking on the same tone I used when leading hundreds of soldiers. "Leave the two of them alone. She didn't cheat, clear?"

At first, angry faces turned to meet my equally troubled one, but upon seeing who had announced it, the anger washed away to be replaced by fear.

Being the general did come with benefits.

I began to walk to the two of them, my boots loudly thudding against the floor. It was impressive how quickly the anger was sucked out of the room. The people moved to let me pass until I was standing behind George and Ivrette.

"Let's go," I muttered, words for their ears only.

QOTC: It's here! What's your first impression of Graeme?

BONUS: If you've read Lantana, do you think he's changed?