sunlight filtered through the bare branches. The riders and their horses focused only on what lay ahead of them in the dangerous chase. Bayla and her steed passed the men with astonishing speed. She leaned low in the saddle, weaving through the pack.
Bayla arrived first at the clearing in the forest where Commander Gy and Shanti stood with several others. Coming in second was a well-built soldier with dark hair and eyes.
Bayla dismounted and put her arms around the stallion’s sweaty neck. She could feel its satisfaction at competing and winning. It truly was a horse bred for speed.
The young man who had come in second put his hand on the flank of Bayla’s horse. “Congratulations, Rega. My name is Zindar.”
She nodded politely. “Zindar.”
Other racers entered the camp. They, too, got down from their horses and commended her victory.
Commander Gy put his hand on Bayla’s shoulder. “The winner is Rega Bayla.”
She felt awake and alive as the men cheered her victory. The exhilaration of the race still quickened her blood. Her status as a leader, the future ruler of all Willovia, was now firmly rooted in the minds of her guards.
Shanti’s stern expression contrasted with the cheerful countenances of the others in the crowd. “She didn’t win.”
The noise of the soldiers quieted as everyone waited for an explanation. Fear rose in Bayla at the thought of what Shanti would say: it wasn’t fair for her to race; she’s not a soldier; her horse is worth more than all the others put together.
“She didn’t win . . . because she cheated.”
“Commander Shanti,” Gy said, “how could Rega Bayla have cheated?”
“Trust me, she cheated.” Shanti walked away from the group.
No one spoke a word in Bayla’s behalf. The thrill of the race vanished. The men left to pitch tents, their previous exuberance destroyed.
Although Bayla appeared calm, a storm raged inside her. Shanti knew that she hadn’t needed her power to win, but she had embarrassed her in front of her new royal guards anyway. Was it in retribution for the shabby treatment Commander Shanti had received from the Daughters of Fortunate Birth? Or was it out of jealousy? It was a bold move—a move that she would make Shanti regret.
9
Infestation
D ried leaves and twigs crunched beneath Shanti’s boots as she approached a soldier checking a list of provisions in a cart. The cart contained blankets, soap, lanterns, oil, tent pegs, tools, and various other necessities for the camp. Larger items, such as storage cabinets and cots, were neatly stacked in piles on the ground. Wagons must have delivered the supplies before she and Commander Gy had arrived at the Outer Boundaries with the princess.
“Commander Jun?” she said.
He stopped inventorying the goods. “Yes.”
“Are you in charge of supply?”
“Why? Is there something you need?”
Commander Jun had short hair, a cleft in his chin, and he wore the uniform well. “I . . . I need a map of the area.”
“There is only one map. You may look at it if you want.”
“I need it with me to set up the guard posts—along with shovels and pickaxes.”
He pointed to the road leading into camp. “Just put one of the guard posts there, one by the horses, and one at the rear of camp. It’s simple, really; even someone like you can figure it out without a map.”
“Someone like me?”
He grinned. “A joke.”
Her face flushed in embarrassment, or was it something more? “Map, shovels, pickax.”
He took a bag out of the cart and shook out a scroll. “This is the only map. Be sure to return it to me when you’re done. Shovels are by that tree.”
Shanti took the scroll and put it in the jacket of her uniform. A shovel and a pickax leaned against a nearby tree. The pickax had a broken handle, and the shovel was cracked.
“You can’t be serious.”
“The other tools are in better condition. They’re being used now.”
Shanti grabbed the worthless gear and left,
Bayla arrived first at the clearing in the forest where Commander Gy and Shanti stood with several others. Coming in second was a well-built soldier with dark hair and eyes.
Bayla dismounted and put her arms around the stallion’s sweaty neck. She could feel its satisfaction at competing and winning. It truly was a horse bred for speed.
The young man who had come in second put his hand on the flank of Bayla’s horse. “Congratulations, Rega. My name is Zindar.”
She nodded politely. “Zindar.”
Other racers entered the camp. They, too, got down from their horses and commended her victory.
Commander Gy put his hand on Bayla’s shoulder. “The winner is Rega Bayla.”
She felt awake and alive as the men cheered her victory. The exhilaration of the race still quickened her blood. Her status as a leader, the future ruler of all Willovia, was now firmly rooted in the minds of her guards.
Shanti’s stern expression contrasted with the cheerful countenances of the others in the crowd. “She didn’t win.”
The noise of the soldiers quieted as everyone waited for an explanation. Fear rose in Bayla at the thought of what Shanti would say: it wasn’t fair for her to race; she’s not a soldier; her horse is worth more than all the others put together.
“She didn’t win . . . because she cheated.”
“Commander Shanti,” Gy said, “how could Rega Bayla have cheated?”
“Trust me, she cheated.” Shanti walked away from the group.
No one spoke a word in Bayla’s behalf. The thrill of the race vanished. The men left to pitch tents, their previous exuberance destroyed.
Although Bayla appeared calm, a storm raged inside her. Shanti knew that she hadn’t needed her power to win, but she had embarrassed her in front of her new royal guards anyway. Was it in retribution for the shabby treatment Commander Shanti had received from the Daughters of Fortunate Birth? Or was it out of jealousy? It was a bold move—a move that she would make Shanti regret.
9
Infestation
D ried leaves and twigs crunched beneath Shanti’s boots as she approached a soldier checking a list of provisions in a cart. The cart contained blankets, soap, lanterns, oil, tent pegs, tools, and various other necessities for the camp. Larger items, such as storage cabinets and cots, were neatly stacked in piles on the ground. Wagons must have delivered the supplies before she and Commander Gy had arrived at the Outer Boundaries with the princess.
“Commander Jun?” she said.
He stopped inventorying the goods. “Yes.”
“Are you in charge of supply?”
“Why? Is there something you need?”
Commander Jun had short hair, a cleft in his chin, and he wore the uniform well. “I . . . I need a map of the area.”
“There is only one map. You may look at it if you want.”
“I need it with me to set up the guard posts—along with shovels and pickaxes.”
He pointed to the road leading into camp. “Just put one of the guard posts there, one by the horses, and one at the rear of camp. It’s simple, really; even someone like you can figure it out without a map.”
“Someone like me?”
He grinned. “A joke.”
Her face flushed in embarrassment, or was it something more? “Map, shovels, pickax.”
He took a bag out of the cart and shook out a scroll. “This is the only map. Be sure to return it to me when you’re done. Shovels are by that tree.”
Shanti took the scroll and put it in the jacket of her uniform. A shovel and a pickax leaned against a nearby tree. The pickax had a broken handle, and the shovel was cracked.
“You can’t be serious.”
“The other tools are in better condition. They’re being used now.”
Shanti grabbed the worthless gear and left,
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