Page 44 of The Trials of Ophelia
It stirred something beneath my skin—a curiosity maybe. One that made my heart beat faster and my throat feel thick.
“I’m sure you’ve been waiting impatiently,” I quipped as Mila took up a position across the table, unbraiding her hair with long, steady fingers.
She smirked and dropped her eyes to Lyria’s plans. Just like that, she slipped into the controlled mind of a soldier.
“Our fourth general,” Lyria confirmed. “I believe you three know Mila Lovall.”
“That we do.” Barrett draped an arm around my shoulder.
I ignored him. “You said five generals?”
“I suppose I should correct myself.” Lyria’s eyes went to Dax. “I hope to have five, if you’ll accept the position.”
“Me?” Dax balked. Lyria nodded, exchanging a smirk with Mila. “But I’m Engrossian. And you two don’t even like me.”
At that, Lyria laughed. Full and hearty, like her brother. “We didn’t trust an Engrossian when we first met, you’re correct. But given recent events”—she paused, her eyes flashing to Barrett—“you two deserve our trust. You were a lieutenant in our enemy’s army. We can’t overlook that. It might take a while for some of the warriors to understand your intentions as we do, but it also makes you one of the most important pieces of this team.”
Dax let that sink in for a moment, then brought his fist to his heart in a show of appreciation. “I’d be honored to serve in this army, Master of Warfare.”
Sincerity blazed through his words.
“Update us, then,” I said. “How’s the development of the blended army?” Asking questions, being involved, had my chest unwinding. A direction—it was what I’d been lacking.
“They’re starting to meld. It’s been a long few months.” Lyria sighed, twirling her braid around a finger. “First, getting the troops here following the last war and the Battle of Damenal took time. Many were invigorated…”
“And the rest?” Barrett prompted.
“The rest were scared to see exactly what happened to their loved ones last time happen again.” She rubbed her eyes, releasing a groan and letting herself slip for a brief moment before straightening up and falling back into her role. “Rightfully so. They’ve suffered enough, and asking them to rush back to a battlefield after only a couple years...it doesn’t matter if we’re warriors. That’s pressure on anyone.”
“But they’ll do it,” I finished for her.
She nodded. “Every clan will.”
“And we’ll do it damn well,” Quil encouraged. His confident, warm demeanor shed reassurance on the room.
“The ones who were more eager were hard to delay,” Mila interjected. “After many long nights, we convinced them it wouldn’t help to launch an unprepared attack. Once they cooled from the injustice of Daminius, they knew we were right.”
“There have been almost constant attacks on the southern border,” Cyren offered quietly. “Our first host, composed of the most fit of all of our clans, has thwarted them, but it’s been two-to-one in terms of numbers.”
“They’ve got twice as many as we have?” My eyes widened.
“No,” Amara corrected, voice severe. “We’ve had to send twice as many as they had in order to hold the line.”
My stomach plummeted to my feet. Forget launching a larger attack, if this kept happening, they’d chip away at our forces before we even met them.
“And my spy network reports they have a growing force.” Lyria’s eyes flashed to Rebel, curled before the fire, then she continued, “Besides that we’ve been focusing our efforts on cohesion.”
She pointed to a series of charts pinned up on one wall. Lists of the legions from the four clans we were uniting under our banners. Seawatchers being the smallest, Mystiques the largest. Then, it paired off the different troops into strategic groups based on skill set and advantages. Noted which had been tried, which worked, which hadn’t, and why.
They weren’t only rebuilding the Mystique force; they were incorporating an inclusive army among all the clans. Sending them out as one. It was a genius plan. One I didn’t think had been done in Gallantian history.
“This is good,” Dax observed.
“It’s revolutionary,” I said.
“It was Danya’s goal,” Lyria explained, her tone softer than I’d heard all evening when she spoke of the former Master of Weapons and Warfare. “It was what we were working on before…” She cleared her throat. “I only put it to work.”
“She’d be proud.” We exchanged a small smile.
