11. Backward
Evin felt as if he was riding backward. Not backward on his pony, though he had done that in the past to make Miri laugh; backward against his heart, against his instincts. Every sense he had screamed that he was riding the wrong way. He had purposely skirted the larger army as they headed North, taking advantage of his squad's more nimble ponies to trek cross-country and avoid the crowds.
The men and women in his squad had seen the advantage of staying off the road, even if they couldn't help but complain about slogging through an endless sea of mud. They thought it was a tactical move, an effort to make it back more quickly. After all, Buri's message had specifically stated that she expected them back by the end of the week, she knew how long it took to get from the border to Corus, and she would have Raoul send a few squads of Ownsmen to personally escort his group back to the Palace if they even thought about orders. Only Evin knew the true reason for the order- if he had seen the others, traveling in the opposite direction, towards war, the threats would have mattered little. He wouldn't have come home.
It would be nice to be back at the Palace, to sleep in a real bed for once; he couldn't deny that. After more than a year at the border, he knew that they all needed some time off where they wouldn't have to be constantly on the watch for enemy scouts and camouflaged archers. But now they were at war; he knew that there would be no peace in returning home, not when so many others were out fighting for their lives. He always felt more comfortable when he could keep an eye out for his friends; there would be no one to tease the grief from Miri's eyes in the mess or to keep Daine from taking on half of Scanra single-handed. The only people he would be looking after were the new trainees, sure to be a thankless job. If things had been different, he might have laughed, thinking of the look of Miri's face as she pointed out that Evin Larse, the perpetual Player, had finally become responsible; but things weren't different, and thinking hurt too much.
Not that he hadn't known this was coming. Buri had been blunt; she was blunt with everyone. It had been in the stables. His group had returned from a particularly bloody encounter with a rogue band of centaurs; Evin had lost two men and wasn't in the mood for talking. Scanra was still a distant threat; the name Maggur was still unknown to him.
"I'm going to make you an offer, but I don't want an answer now. Take some time to consider."
He had wondered where they were going to be sent now. Somewhere dangerous, certainly. It wasn't often that Buri made assignments optional.
"I want you to be my Assistant Commander."
Whatever he was expecting, it had not been that. With the amount of pranks he pulled, Buri finally deciding to teach him a lesson and taking his squad away would have made more sense then her offering a promotion. Only his skill for field command had allowed him to keep Group Leader status this long; anyone else would have been sent packing long ago. But Evin couldn't help pushing the rules; it was in his nature. Secretly he thought that Buri understood, and that was why she seemed to turn a blind eye to all but the most blatant acts of mischief.
"You're a brilliant leader Evin. The others follow your example, even if at times I wish they wouldn't. But I'm not sure that you can do this. The choices you are forced to make- it's harder than anything you've ever done, harder then losing men even. During a battle, you know that you've done everything you can. Some things are just out of your control, but that's the will of the gods for you. But having to tell others to fight in your place, sending out soldiers you've known since training camp and knowing the odds against them, that's command. And it's damn near the hardest thing you'll ever have to do, don't let anyone tell you different. So, no, I'm not sure if you can handle it. But gods knows you have a better chance than anyone else. So I'd like to give you a chance, if you wish to take it. I'll hear your answer at the end of the week."
So he couldn't say that he hadn't been warned. In accepting the position, he had accepted the hard choices that came with it. And training the new recruits was especially important now, when requests for replacements were sure to be flooding in within the month. Those who made it through summer camp would be sent to fight, and there was only a few months to prepare. Buri was right to ask for help; he knew how she hated sending rookies into the field unprepared, their untimely deaths made all the harder by the hidden guilt that there was not more time. And Evin remembered what it was like to be thrown into battle before you were ready; it was those few months of training alone that had gotten him through the Immortals War. Yet for the first time, the first sweeping view of Corus as they rode across the rocky bluffs above the city brought him no joy. Without his friends, it barely felt like home.
As he approached the crowd of trainees, all he could think was that they looked so young. Most sported various bruises- less than a month into training, very few had mastered the art of staying on the back of the testy Rider ponies. The first day seemed one of the longest in his life, spent chasing down runaway mounts and dodging off-target arrows, but he honestly didn't mind. It kept his mind from wandering. But that night he drifted off into a tossing, troubled sleep with ghosts of Scanrans before his eyes and the whisper of a lost friend's name on his lips.