MIWL Book 1: Belligerent

4.1 - NOTHING IN VAIN

The two traveled for an hour or so more, their journey silent save for the odd conversation that about battle-plans, horses, weapons and what they would tell their fellow soldiers when they got back home. Eleanor had perked up considerably after her mention of her plan, and she used most of the silence to think over how she would persuade Drew to let her go through with it.

She was aware of the risks involved, the possibility of death, or worse, if she was caught. But she felt that it was better than sitting around for two weeks and training for her own demise. It would eat away two days of the crucial fortnight, though she was positive that she would find something important. And if not? Well, she would deal with that later.

Hooves crunched the bright grass beneath them, the horses' bits clinking as they chewed on them, tired from the journey. They had stopped to rest for a while, but Eleanor had been too giddy to want to stick around and look at flowers when she knew she could be back home sooner. So they had set off again, in relative silence, with Eleanor's mind whirring and sweat running down her temples.

The water from the canteen had finished an hour ago, and her throat was dry and sore. So sore, in fact, that she had almost laughed when she spotted the roof of the base and the vast training grounds surrounding it. Eleanor felt that she could easily down a gallon of water.

"We'll head for my office, first," Drew said as they rode out from the edge of the forest and into the grounds. The grass here was mostly dry and crushed right into the soil, nothing like the lushness of the forest. Weeds sprouted out from every odd angle, leeching away the sunlight and water that the grass needed to bloom. It was a training ground, after all, not a garden. You couldn't expect anyone to actually maintain it.

Eleanor continued to sit in silence, not knowing a proper answer to what Drew had said. She was unsure as to whether he'd agree to her plan, or if he'd just make her sit around and train like everyone else. She desperately hoped that he wouldn't do the latter -- he'd said so himself, he thought it was a set-up just like she did. She just had to prove it and hopefully give them some leverage over the war.

Dismounting with a long, dreary sigh, Eleanor grunted a soft thanks to the stable-hands that took her horse.

"He needs oats, and hay," she said, though the grubby boys were already scuttering away with her horse in a brisk trot behind them. Two more came for Drew's gelding, and he gave them both a tip of two Kernels -- small, brass coins shaped into a four-sided star.

Watching the horse as it was ushered away, Eleanor trudged after Drew as he headed for the main entrance of the base. The two oak doors that served as the entrance were always left open, save for in the winter when the air carried a brittle set of jaws that would nip on their bones. Sacks of sand held the doors wide open -- though the entrance still wasn't big enough for the soldiers bustling about around it. Some were scrabbling, fighting, or bickering. Others were huddled together and reading from scraps of magazine that they probably stolen from the village. Most of them were scoffing their faces with food, gravy dripping down their throats in an attempt to satiate their hunger.

Eleanor scanned their faces -- there was Jinn Korla, patting his wife hard on the back as they both roared with laughter, golden hair flying back as their mouths opened to the ceiling; there was Lorna Kittlewood, eating ten bread-rolls at once and nodding her tubby face up and down as she spoke to her friend; there was Aaron Gartner, wiry haired and lanky, and wearing such a worried frown that Eleanor wanted to leap right into his arms and cry.

"Ellie... you're back early." He didn't sound happy at all. Being early only meant nothing good -- being late meant the same. As a General -- and Drew, as a Commander -- Eleanor had to make sure she was punctual, arriving at her destinations at the exact time she'd stated.

Otherwise she'd have to witness a bemused face like Aaron's a little too often.

"There were... difficulties," she said.

"Explain..." Even if his tone said he wanted her to do otherwise, Eleanor continued.

"There was an attack," she said, fidgeting as she continued to walk down the corridor. Drew was behind her, maintaining a safe distance to give her and Aaron their privacy. "There was an attack at the feast. Carlythians."

As she said the word, Aaron's fists clenched and his face twisted, as if in pain.

"How many--"

"Most."

"By Algol-" Eleanor flinched at his choice of words, hearing them from someone's mouth always set her off-guard, "I never knew... never. The treaty?"

"Broken. War's in two weeks."

"Two... weeks. A fortnight." Aaron was speaking to himself now, voice barely above a mumble as he slowly shook his head, as if that would make everything better again. Eleanor shrugged, rubbing both hands into her face and dragging down her eyelids.

"Look, I have a meeting with Drew... I shouldn't be long, I'll catch you later, yeah?" She patted Aaron on the back and tugged him into an awkward hug, Aaron's body rigid and unresponsive. Eleanor desperately wished that there was some way for her to reverse everything that had happened; she hoped that there was a way to set everything back to normal.

Even if she had to sell her soul -- her body -- to the Wretched Star, she would do it just to see the flicker of a smile on Aaron's face.

"I'll... see you at our room," he breathed. Eleanor had barely heard him but nodded anyway, watching as her friend began to amble towards the barracks. He bumped into quite a few people before he disappeared into the crowd.

"He took that better than I was expecting," said Drew, taking a few large strides so that he was closer to Eleanor again. He lingered behind her and their steps echoed off the walls as the crowd died away. Drew's office was situated away from the bustle; such a busy man couldn't be around so much noise if he had to think.

"What were you expecting?" Eleanor already knew the answer.

"A crying fit. Maybe him passing out. Maybe him puking up his guts and staining the floor."

Eleanor could have laughed at the face that he pulled, but her gut twisted every time the thought of smiling crossed her mind.

"All you care about is the floor."

"That's not true," he retorted, "I care about you, too."

Silence, before he said, "Which is why I'm concerned about this plan you have in mind. It's a dangerous game we're playing, Ellie."

"Says the one who made a deal with Flynn moments after getting his head bashed in."

A chuckle that lacked proper humour.

"Touche."

Drew slid a brass key into the lock of his door and pushed it open with a boot. He looped the keys back onto his belt and moved to sit behind his desk. His footsteps were cushioned against the large sheep-skin rug that covered the floor. It was patchy, some parts grey, others more white or cream.

"I hope you understand the need to be careful this time," he said, "you're our General, yes, but that doesn't mean I know how... excited you can get in the heat of things."

Eleanor didn't feel like she had been very excited during the massacre, when she'd heard the sound of the skull being smashed, when she'd seen Cecil--

"But I, myself, understand that your plans are generally of help to us -- for that reason alone, I'll listen to you, but I'm making no promises. Not now."

Eleanor took a breath, setting herself into the padded seat in front of Drew's desk as he tucked his chair under the table. He put his elbows on the stained wood of his desk and folded his fingers together, inspecting her. Eleanor lowered her gaze to her lap. She was beginning to second-guess herself, she was beginning to doubt whether what she'd thought up during the last part of their journey would actually all be worth it.

But Cecil -- the guards, the maids, the villagers, the children -- their deaths would be in vain if she didn't at least try.

And so Eleanor leaned forward, tucked her hands beneath her armpits, stared right into Drew's eyes and said, "I have a plan."