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“Again,” Bryn called out to her soldiers in training.

As one, the recruits thrust forward with their swords and then blocked an invisible opponent.

“Again.”

The group repeated the motion. Bryn walked along the lines of men and women adjusting stances, adding critique to their thrusts, and seldom rewarding someone with good form.

“Break for the day; return at dawn for final inspection,” she called to the group before turning toward the watchtower outside the Palace of Wind and Embers.

Bryn climbed the stairs, face neutral as it always was, and made her way to the General’s office at the top of the stairs. She passed soldiers and sergeants who all stopped and bowed at her.

She ignored them.

Making it to the door of his office, she banged it open to find a dark-haired shieldmaiden sitting on her uncle's lap, faking a laugh at something offensive he must have said. At Bryn’s sudden entrance, they both looked toward her.

The shieldmaiden scrambled to stand and bow to her Lieutenant General despite having just been entertaining the General of Embers.

“I see you are hard at work reviewing the recruits I rounded up from Logi,” Bryn said between her teeth .

Her uncle waved off the shieldmaiden, a warrior from a neighboring village who Bryn had brought to the barracks to even the imbalance of men and women in their army.

The attempt was usually futile as she would pass on her reports of soldiers who passed inspection based on their kingdom standard, and her uncle would not sign off on any woman who Bryn approved of for their armies.

As the shieldmaiden passed her, Bryn grabbed her elbow and said quietly, “Stop by the healer's tower and retrieve a contraceptive tonic before you head back to the barracks.”

The shieldmaiden exited the room, the door shutting quietly behind her.

“When I sent over my reviews, I didn’t think you’d need to inspect them personally,” Bryn said to Ulf, implications heavy in her statement.

“I am only trying to ensure that our armies are manned by the best of the best warriors in this kingdom,” the General replied, brushing off her insinuations.

Bryn snorted. “I’m sure that’s exactly what you were doing, Uncle. How could I ever suspect that your intentions were anything other than honorable? As you said, our armies should be manned by the best warriors, so why look further into my shieldmaidens? Am I correct?”

He bristled at her familial reference before his eyes darkened at her clear insubordination. If she were anyone else, she would be dead for how she spoke to her General.

“I am not your uncle; I am your General.”

“Of course,” she murmured and tilted her head, giving him an amused look.

They glared at each other, the tension palpable as their standoff continued. Finally, her uncle broke first and cast his eyes down to his desk. Coward , Bryn thought bitterly .

Ulf didn’t meet her stare again, instead shuffling a few papers on his desk. “What did you need, Lieutenant?”

“The recruits are ready for final inspection,” she said, moving her eyes to rest on the wall behind his head.

“Good.”

The General said no more, keeping his eyes down and attempting to ignore her presence.

“I’m going into the city to scout for more,” Bryn said as she turned to leave.

“Why?”

She stopped in her tracks, keeping her back to her uncle. “What?”

“Why are you looking for more recruits?” He asked slowly.

“Because you just sent off the best soldiers we have to track down the Heir, as the King requested.”

“And you believe we need to swell our ranks?”

A careful question. Bryn responded carefully.

“If our enemy is on the move to aid the traitor Heir, shouldn’t we be prepared for any attack from the Kingdom of Rivers?” Bryn asked, voice even.

Her uncle was silent for a time. Bryn kept her back to him, her disrespect hanging heavy in the room.

“Carry on, Lieutenant.”

Bryn quickly exited the tower and made her way to her bedroom, changing into civilian clothing. She lifted the stone hiding away her mother’s belongings and grabbed the remaining journals her mother had kept, hastily stowing them into her satchel.

Taking the servants' staircase to the ground level of the palace, she made her way into Logi .

Winding through the narrow streets nestled in between the red-stoned houses that were packed together in the slums of Logi, Bryn circled back on herself a few times to make sure she lost whatever tail her uncle had put on her.

She stopped at markets and haggled for prices on items she didn’t need to blend in with her surroundings.

Finally, the soldier, who had been obviously following her, lost her in the central market.

Bryn scaled the side of one of the houses lining the market, hiding on the roof to watch her stalker give up and make his way down a wayward alley.

A bitter laugh escaped her; the realization that her uncle and father still did not trust her was not lost on Bryn.

She arrived at the rooftop she had been searching for, its flat top, which was easy to jump onto from the neighboring structure.

When Bryn landed, she looked north toward the palace and found she had a clear view from where she stood of the entire nobles' district and the monstrous structure she had called home her whole life.

She noticed an old tent set up that had collapsed in on itself made of old clothing as she headed for the opening in the roof that would let her inside.

Making her way down the stairs, Bryn passed brightly colored bedrooms that looked untouched.

The green walls of the halls offset her generally dark presence.

Her bright orange hair had been wrapped up into tight braids in a bun at the nape of her neck and then covered by the black hood on her traveling cloak.

Her nondescript black harem pants and boots aided her civilian disguise.

“You know, those clothes make you stand out. You look like a noble who is slumming it for the night before they must go back to their life of comfort,” a voice said from the first floor near the kitchen.

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t as inconspicuous as I thought , Bryn chided to herself .

“I got here from the rooftops; no one would have had the chance to have an opinion about my clothing,” Bryn said as she came down the stairs, lowering her hood.

As Bryn rounded the corner, she saw the man who owned this house and who she had come to speak with.

He had shaved the sides of his head since the last time she saw him.

The white-blond hair that remained on the top of his head braided into a knot in the back of his head, ice blue eyes piercing her as they always did.

Bryn gave him a saccharine smile and a mock bow before she moved toward him.

They each extended an arm, grasping each other's forearms in greeting.

“Sigurd, it’s good to see you,” Bryn said, her smile now genuine.

“Hello, Bryn,” Sigurd said, his smile warm.

They separated, each finding a seat around the small living space next to the bookcase that led to The Broken Bones Pub.

“What brings you here tonight? I wasn’t expecting you for another two weeks,” Sigurd said.

“I need to hide something here that’s too dangerous to keep at the barracks,” Bryn started slowly. “I found out some information about someone at the palace, and if the King knew about it, he’d kill me.”

If Sigurd was curious about what the information was, he did not ask. Bryn exhaled a sigh of relief before she withdrew the four diaries her mother kept. There had been more, of course, but she assumed they had been destroyed during her father’s rampage.

“I see,” Sigurd said as he rubbed a hand over his chin, the fine silver blonde hair of his beard growing in. “Well, you can keep them here, but there’s no guarantee that no one will read them.”

“I’ll hide them well enough,” Bryn brushed off .

“You’d better. The last group I had here didn’t do well cooped up all day and went through all the belongings left here over the years,” Sigurd said with a small laugh.

Bryn made her way toward the bookcase that she knew led to the underground fighting pits Sigurd ran.

She opened a few books and cut into the thick pages with her knife to create a small pocket inside each large volume housed on the shelves.

Placing the small diaries into four different books, she returned them to the shelves in random spots.

“What’s written in those diaries that is so dangerous? Are they your deepest, darkest secrets, Brynna?” Sigurd teased from the kitchen.

Bryn chuckled and ignored the use of her full name.

“No, I don’t write my secrets down. These belonged to someone else,” Bryn said as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Sigurd had been stocking the shelves with supplies when she arrived. She expected that he had more rebels that he would be housing soon since she knew Sigurd didn’t stay here. At the thought of why Sigurd avoided this house, a knot formed in Bryn’s throat.

Before she had taken up her position as Lieutenant General, Sigurd’s family had been taken from him by her uncle for their galder . Unable to do anything but witness, Bryn had sworn to herself that she would do everything she could to prevent that from happening again.

Bryn had searched for Sigurd shortly after they had been taken to set up a partnership where they could work together. At the point of his axe under her chin, Bryn had spoken quickly enough that he had agreed to work with her on smuggling the vitki and their families out of Logi.

Though he believed she was just a foot soldier in the army, they became fast friends through the dangerous work of aiding rebels in this city.

“I should get going before the soldier I lost in the market finds me again,” Bryn said, mourning her lack of freedom.

“It was good to see you, Bryn; I hope things are working in our favor,” he said quietly.

Bryn didn’t respond. She turned to go up the stairs and left the same way she had come when she remembered the collapsed tent on the roof.