"The Sheighs have made it to the Western Border!" I yell at the men standing at attention in front of me. "We are to meet them there. The Southern Army has fallen, as has the West." They look at me in shock. That is over half of our army wiped out,
"But captain, what about the western flank? General Walter was with them?" I look at the young man who addressed me. A sergeant, strong, young, and I could see ladies finding him attractive. I don't.
"They were taken by the Sheighs; that is all I know," I tell him, staring him back into position. A habit of mine really, I may be young, and I may be a girl, but I am one of the most respected Captains in the Gren Army. I could stare down the king if I tried. I haven't, even though I have had an attendance with him to discus battle strategies. He is a small old man with too much power, honestly. But he is my king and I shall serve him till I die.
"Sorry. I was just curious," the sergeant says. Everyone knows the only reason I am here is because Walter found me in the woods as a little girl, covered in third degree burns and hardly speaking a word. Now at sixteen, I am a captain in the Gren Army. Not a normal lady's ideal position, but I am as far from normal as you can get. I am a master in poisons, fencing, archery, and throwing knives. I am not bad at spears but I do not enjoy it enough to be great at it. Being great at something is a mental thing. You have to want to be good at something before you really are. And I want to and am good at being in charge. Ordering people around is a second nature to me, really.
"Get your stuff together! We head to the western front at dawn!" I bark, striding from the stone room.
"Abri." A harsh voice chastises me.
"What?" I snap back, a little too harshly. "Sorry Tom, I'm out of sorts today," I say, throwing my sword across the room and smiling when it sticks out of the wall.
"I can tell. That is your favorite sword." He frowns at the wall.
"Well! How can Walter do that to me?" I ask, tearing the sword from the wall, leaving an obvious slash. Tom snorts.
"Yeah, 'cause you know, he intentionally got captured and put into a labor camp." I glare and him and all but hiss for him to shut up.
"You know…" Tom says carefully, "Caspar was with him." He finishes quietly.
"What! I told him to stay in Stonewall! And he leaves! Now he is a prisoner and I'll have to go save his sorry ass!" I exclaim all in one breath. Caspar is like a brother to me. When Walter found me Caspar was with him, He's been here since I can remember. Very obnoxious, very annoying at times, but still my brother, I mean I still have to love him. Right?
"He has a mind of his own. He may be a year under you in age and rank, but that boy cannot take an order." Tom chuckles. Tom was with Walter too. Like a second dad in a way.
"Was he one of the wounded? Deceased? Or missing in action?" I ask running a hand through my loose dark blond hair.
"Missing." Tom says sitting down in my rocking chair. My rocking chair, no one sits in My rocking chair! I glare daggers at him. He just continues rocking, acting as if he is oblivious to my gaze. I sigh, sitting down on my cot. Being a girl, I get my own quarters. If I was a man I'd be sharing bunks with all of the sweaty, haven't had a shower in two months type guys. Boy am I lucky! That would be disgusting. Some of the men used to hold contests to see who could last the longest without bathing. I put a stop to it as soon as I found out. Sadly, it had been going on for around six months already. And when I found the guilty party I could barely stand talking to them for as long as I needed to. The smell was horrendous! Why are guys so disgusting? No offence to any of you, but isn't that common knowledge?
"You zone out more often lately than normal." Tom startles me out of my thoughts.
"I have more on my mind lately." I say calmly picking up a small vial of nightshade juice from my nightstand. Nightshade is the most poisonous berry around. It takes all of two seconds after it enters the body before killing. Marvelous stuff if you ask me.
"You think that that would have the opposite effect." Tom mutters standing up and moving over to the wall to inspect the damage my sword made. He'll probably find a few other cuts in the wall as well. Not the safest way to release anger, throwing a sword, but it works. Better at the wall than at a person, right?
"So, you and Caspar are pretty tight?" he asks innocently.
"He's my brother; of course we're tight!" I say a little loudly, stretching out on my bed.
"So you see him as a sibling?" he asks, still examining the wall.
"Uh, Yeah!" I say, propping myself up on my elbows. I try to look at Tom's face. It is still focused on the plaster peeling off the wall.
"He doesn't," Tom says, blowing into the slashes in the wall then peering through them.
"What do you mean he doesn't? What else would I be to him?" I cock my head trying to get a better look at Tom's face, which stays buried in the wall.
"Nothing my dear, get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow of yelling at soldiers and making it to the western border. I'll see you then," he says. walking out the door leaving me to wonder what the heck he is talking about. Not a sister to Caspar? Please!