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Rebel's Honor(9)

By:Gwynn White


Lynx let his hand linger for a moment and then shrugged. It was time to  get practical. "Letters home? Surely they'll be read? Isn't that what  you and Uncle Bear always say, that Felix checks your mail?"

Her father nodded. "Over the years, Bear and I have worked out a code, of sorts. Thus far, it seems to have gotten past Felix."

Lord Felix Avanov, Mott's brother, was in charge of empire security. As  an Avanov, he was one of the few people in the empire who could read.

"I don't want you writing compromising letters. Whatever you find out,  tell Bear. He will find a way to relay the information to me."                       
       
           



       

Lynx picked at the strings of her fiddle. How easy would it be, finding  this information? It was unlikely to be lying in the open, waiting for  her to stumble upon it. That meant she would have to ask questions,  calling attention to her quest. But if she didn't take risks to learn  their secrets and the Chenayans attacked again, how would she forgive  herself? The image of Hare's butchered body floated before her mind's  eye, making her shiver-and steeling her resolve. That would never happen  again, not while she drew breath.

She looked up at her father. "I am bound so tight by oaths that I feel  like a fly in a spider's web. All I can do is use every resource I have  before the spider strikes."





Chapter 6





General Axel Avanov strode across the expansive balcony of his command  pavilion, gripped the mahogany railing, and glared out across the parade  ground.

The carriage carrying the Norin princesses was late.

He kicked the wooden balustrade rhythmically with his knee-high black  boot. He'd already wasted a month of his precious time here at Tanamre,  preparing a suitable welcoming party for them. Welcoming party-that was  one way of describing a regiment of bloodthirsty imperial guardsmen.

He cracked his crooked smile too sardonic to be considered attractive.  Not that his looks mattered. He'd never needed his powerful body or  striking face to open doors for him. As Emperor Mott's nephew, birth  alone had done that, catapulting him to third in line for the throne.

Third place.

Axel rubbed the gemstone embedded next to his right eye. Rare as the  ruby was, it would always be second to the diamonds worn by Mott and his  sons. He dropped his hand from his eye to the railing, his fingers  tapping out the same rhythm as his boot. Regardless of the gemstone,  everyone who mattered knew he'd be the true power behind the throne when  Lukan became emperor. He could live with that.

Even his few decriers admitted that it wasn't just his arrogance talking  either. He was only twenty-four, but he'd already proved to be a daring  military strategist. Some said, one of the best Chenaya had ever sired.  No small achievement, given he was up against four hundred years of  stiff competition. In a world where military prowess was worshiped, many  considered him a god.

He was more disparaging about both the gods and himself.

The rasp of boots across the polished wooden floor made him turn. "Ah,  Colonel Zarot, you have news about our elusive princesses?"

The officer bowed, then saluted. "My outriders report that they'll reach  us in about five minutes, General." Even in the midday sun, the emerald  next to Zarot's eye looked dull against his olive skin. Still, its  message was clear: Stefan Zarot came from a high-born Chenayan family  that had supported the Avanovs for generations.

Axel sighed. "You can always rely on women to be late." He locked eyes  onto four soldiers in the center of the pavilion. They were poring over a  large wooden table spread with a map used to display troop movements.  "Dismissed."

The guardsmen dropped their plotters and pencils, bowed low, and then  saluted him and the colonel. Boots pounding on the wooden floor, they  marched to the steps.

Axel turned to Stefan. "You do realize that, thanks to Norin inability  to keep to a simple schedule, your replacement will arrive about the  same time as they do? Not good, not good at all. King Thorn is  undoubtedly hoping to use this opportunity to get his raiders to do some  intelligence scouting."

"The timing is awkward, General," Stefan replied, face as inscrutable as  his voice, "but at least it will give me an opportunity to brief him in  person before I leave my regiment to accompany you and the princesses  to Cian."

"You instructed him to break up this camp and to redeploy to Treven as I commanded?"

"Of course, sir. That was in my original brief to him."

The guardsmen clomped down the stairs.

When the sound of their leaving faded, the colonel slouched against the  railing. "Axel, I still don't feel right about it, though."

This wasn't news to Axel. "Stefan, despite the Unity, Thorn made it  clear when he and Lynx were in Cian that he wouldn't easily give up his  precious princess to our illustrious crown prince. That's why Mott  insisted we attack the Norin camp. A not-so-subtle warning of what will  happen if Lynx and her sister don't pitch up here today."

Axel scowled. Emperor Mott's decision to sacrifice fifteen guardsmen by  sending them into the Norin camp infuriated him. It was a waste of human  life and did nothing to build confidence in Avanov leadership amongst  his men.

Nor did it do much for Chenayan – Norin relationships, always fragile at best.                       
       
           



       

Axel had argued to send in fifty troops. Fifteen men to precision-kill  the equivalent number of Norin raiders-not servers, and certainly not  children-as a warning to King Thorn. The remainder of the men would  watch their backs. With his troops' enhanced fighting skills, both  Chenayan and Norin casualties would have been minimal.

Mad Mott had overruled him. The result had been a bloodbath for both Chenaya and Norin.

Axel had been tempted to disobey the order, but he was planning another,  more important, rebellion and didn't want to risk the emperor's ire  unless it served his overall battle strategy. Still, squandering troops  in ill-planned military adventures went against everything he believed.

In his musings, Axel noticed Stefan's eyebrow twitch. Axel grunted; he  understood the colonel well enough to recognize it as a frown. He and  Stefan had been friends for years, having grown up together at the  palace in Cian.

"Now what?" Axel demanded. "You do know I'm supposed to be the general here, the one giving the orders?"

"Yes, but you always listen to your men. It's part of what makes you great."

Axel didn't deny it. He'd never believed in throwing his weight around  to get things done. His men obeyed him because he was the best, not  because he was royalty.

Stefan's dark eyes flitted across the parade ground to where hundreds of  his troops drilled. "What's to prevent the Norin finding out we  redeployed the regiment after the train leaves? With no troops left here  to attack them, Thorn and his raiders could sabotage it to rescue the  princesses."

"That would lead to war, the last thing we need now. That is precisely  why I don't want raiders hanging about here." Axel walked to the map on  the table. He picked up a pushing stick and nudged a block representing  the regiment stationed at Tanamre west to Treven.

Until a month ago, when Emperor Mott invaded the country, Treven had  been one of the Free Nations that skirted the empire. The emperor  tolerated the existence of these disjointed nations as long as they  didn't get in the way of Avanov objectives, the way Treven had.

"The sooner this regiment gets to Treven, the better."

Colonel Zarot's eyebrows twitched again. "So it's true?" he whispered. "The invasion hasn't gone so well?"

"Don't bother whispering. Why do you think I'm so disgruntled today? I  got a message from Mott this morning burning my ear off about the Treven  campaign. Like it's my fault he and my father chose that idiot Azan to  lead the invasion."

"You said yourself, the emperor believes getting the princesses to Cian the more critical task."

Axel frowned at Stefan. "In Mad Mott's mind, yes. But since when is  babysitting silly girls more important than protecting the lives of  thousands of men in Treven?" He took a swipe at the table leg with his  boot, making it rock. "If the number of casualties ever leaks out, the  whole empire will know a regiment of Chenayan grunts was virtually  annihilated by the psychotic King Chad."

Axel slapped his hand on the map, making the blocks jump. "If I'd been  in charge, it never would have happened. Clean precision, that's how I  would have handled it. Chad and his heirs would be dead, and their ice  crystal mines ours."

"But we both know the truth about casualties will never leak out."