Page 163 of Forcing Fate

He trailed off with a wicked gleam in his eye and I had the strong urge to kick him off the bed.

“Perhaps we are simply terrified of her attacks.” Jamlin called from his cot as he wound a bandage around his arm.

“She fights like a kitten,” Korzak rumbled, handing me the blanket.

I couldn’t hold back my small smile. “A kitten?” I choked out.

“One with the sharpest claws I’ve ever seen!” Collins said, handing me a spare tunic and pair of trousers.

Being the closest to my size, his uniform was the only one I’d fit into. I took the items with gratitude warming my heart. Perhaps General Rafe’s Tennan wasn’t so bad.

“Up. Change,” Rafe said as he stood and stretched. “We have an early morning. Best try to get some sleep.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

The distant ring of the fifth chime echoed through the fortress. It roused me from my sleep, but I shivered in my damp cot till the sixth chime when the others started rising. They seemed to have a routine down. They relieved themselves, shaved by candlelight as the sun rose, then dressed.

When I told Jamlin I wanted to wash my uniform, he grunted in reply, then moved his shaving supplies to the courtyard. He stayed within sight while I pulled cold water from the well to fill the small washbasin.

We worked in silence, and I hurried to lay my uniform out to dry. Jamlin finished shaving the sides of his head and tied his braids together with a leather thong.

“You come from the south?” I asked, concealing my under-breeches beneath my drying tunic. The Tennan didn’t need to see my undergarments.

“Aye, from Jasiri. A village on the northern edge of the Sands,” he replied, gathering his things.

“Do all men there wear their hair the same? I’ve never seen braids like that.” I walked up to him and studied his intricate braids.

“Some. Our hair is different from yours. We either shave it or plait it to keep it out of our way,” he said, holding up a single braid.

I reached out and touched the thick, coarse hair. “It is different,” I agreed.

“Let me braid yours tonight,” he offered, walking with me back into the fortress.

I pulled at the small braid at the nape of my neck. “You mean this?”

“No, I can braid the top.”

“It’s too short.” I objected.

“Not the way we do it.”

If he could find a way to braid the top, where my hair was starting to flop in my eyes, I would gladly take him up on his offer. “Perhaps. I would like to see it.”

I tucked the tunic into my borrowed trousers, tightening my belt. Collins’ uniform was too big, and trousers too long. I sat on the cot to roll the hem, looking up as General Rafe descended the stairs.

“Jamlin, fetch these from Elon,” he said, handing him a small parchment. “Take Zephath with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Xzanth, get the bows and head to the range. Korzak, you and Collins run the foot course. Blain, work on the mounted course. You’re getting sloppy with your seat.”

I watched as General Rafe tossed out orders like… well, like it was his job. When his eye settled on me, I snapped to rigid attention and saluted.

Zephath snickered at my side before heading toward Jamlin.

“Jam, have Zeph carry the weapons back.”

The snickering stopped, but I only had eyes for my General. I waited for orders. His stare lingered, scrutinizing me. My body itched to move, to squirm under his assessment, but I forced myself to stay still.

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