“Can I get the original list of our personnel?” he asked, and I blinked in confusion. He quickly clarified: “It should be among the documents left by Laik Var.”
I felt heat rising to my face. “I didn’t think about that,” I mumbled. Just showed how little I was suited for this job. The blasted sash grew heavier against my body.
Truth be told, I avoided thinking about anything related to Laik Var. Now, my eyes darted to his tent, clearly distinguishable thanks to the insignia of Seventh Cohort.
My tent.
A wave of nausea rolled over me.
Saral Tal grabbed my shoulder. “Are you all right, vessár?”
“Yes.” I let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.” At the last moment, I caught myself, and turned back to my Cohort: “Dismissed.”
I shook off Saral Tal’s hand and headed toward the tent. But it felt as if someone cast a repelling spell: I had to fight for each step, my knees threatening to buckle any time. Saral Tal was walking beside me, and even without looking I knew he was watching me, ready to offer his hand if I was about to fall. He made no comment, but my guts coiled in shame.
Sooner than I wanted to, we stood at the entrance. The flap was in front of me; all I had to do was reach out and…
But I couldn’t do it. I was standing, taut as a bowstring, waiting for an all-too-familiar voice to call me in.
Saral Tal pulled the flap.
The tent was empty. There was no one there.
I let out a shaky breath. What did I expect?
The heavy desk occupied the center of the tent, topped with a little honeycomb shelf filled with scrolls. I was tempted to unfold the second chair and fall into it, waiting for orders, but I knew if I did it, I would never stand up. I circled the desk. There, my eyes fell at the miniature portrait glued to the back of the cabinet, visible only to the person sitting in the vessár’s chair.
Amma La.
I wondered if she was back.
Slowly, I slumped down. It felt wrong. I wanted to jump out, run around the desk, and stand on the other side. But my limbs were as heavy as stone. My hands gripped the armrests so strongly it hurt. The pain sobered me. I started limply going through the papers cluttering the counter, looking for the list that was supposed to be there, but my mind was so addled, I couldn’t make sense of the words on the paper.
“Got it,” I heard from beside me and I turned my head to Saral Tal. He was holding a particularly thick scroll he took from one of the shelves. He rolled and sheathed it, then hung it from his belt. “I should go to the medical bay and compare it with the list of the deceased. Are you all right?”
No.
“Yes.”
He opened his mouth, but the tent flap flew open and Adyar Lah entered with an awkward mix of barging and creeping. My chest clenched and I sunk deeper into the chair.
“I’m sorry, I left something here,” he murmured, slouching his shoulders. Without waiting for a response, he scurried to the desk, and scooped the papers into his arms. That’s why I couldn’t make heads and tails out of them.
Until then, his eyes were on the ground, but now he lifted them at me and his brows knitted slightly.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. My throat was so tight I wasn’t sure if I could even make a sound. I dropped my gaze to the desk and clenched my hands on the armrests.
“You think they’ll be here forever… until they’re not.”
Still, I didn’t speak. It didn’t seem like he was expecting an answer anyway. With the corner of my eye I saw him turning his head and biting his lip. What was he thinking of? Did his thoughts mirror mine? But what were my thoughts? Who was Laik Var to me? Commander, nothing more. Almost a stranger.
And at the same time, he was the only thing I took for granted, the only reminder that as long as I did as I was told, everything was going to be all right…
Until it wasn’t.
“Sanam Il was good vessár,” said Adyar Lah finally, ripping me from my thoughts.
“So was Laik Var,” I replied hollowly.
He looked at me and his lips spread in something between a smile and a grimace.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you here.”
I nodded.
“And…” he hesitated. “Thanks for healing me before. With all that happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if you left me to bleed out.”
And have everyone in Mespana blame your death on me, I thought, but there was no bite in it. On the contrary, I felt the tightness in my chest easing out a bit and even managed to lift my head to look in the vague direction of Adyar Lah.
“I was doing my job,” I said lamely, then added quickly, “you should get that checked, though. I’m not very good at this, as you probably realized.” A nervous chuckle escaped my lips but died as I remembered my failure with helping Tayrel Kan. “I should have let Dalyn Kia do it. She’s a sorcerer, isn’t she?”
Adyar Lah smiled, and I got an impression of it being a little condescending. “Yes, she is. And don’t worry, I had it checked. It’s procedure, remember?”
I cursed myself mentally. Of course it was. My gaze dropped to the desk. I wished he would leave, but he stayed, hesitating.
“Also,” he added finally, “I’m sorry for… before.”
He didn’t have to specify.
I shook my head. “You were doing your job,” I said before realizing I was basically parroting my previous statement. I wanted to add something, anything that wouldn’t make me look like an utter idiot, but before I figured out what, he
