Page 87 of A Dagger in the Ivy

The camp sprawls across the landscape, a patchwork of makeshift tents and shelters nestled amidst the rugged terrain. Tattered canvas flaps in the cold wind, providing scant protection against the elements for those who call this place home, while the ground beneath their feet is worn and bare from the constant traffic of weary travelers.

There is a sense of resilience, with people bustling about, determined to make the best of their circumstances. Volunteers move among the tents, distributing meager rations of food and water to the hungry and thirsty refugees, their faces etched with compassion despite the scarcity of resources.

Despite the hardships, there is a sense of community among the inhabitants of the camp, with families huddled together for warmth and support, their bonds forged in the crucible of adversity. Children play together, their laughter a fleeting respite from the harsh realities of their surroundings.

The camp runners approach us, their faces drawn with exhaustion and concern. “Commander, welcome,” a sergeant named Rose says.

“Rose, we have two families here. Their boat capsized and they were thrown into the ocean.”

She nods. “All right, bring them this way. We’ve got plenty of blankets, and there’s a fire going.”

“On it,” Isaac says, leading the refugees to where Rose indicates.

Aila goes with them, carrying the young child, who is now clinging to her.

“We’ll check the perimeter,” Mylo tells me. He then signals to Giorgi to come along.

Dante stands beside me, his eyes scanning the camp. As he takes in the state of the refugees, there’s a softness in his expression, a flicker of something more human beneath his hardened exterior.

“How are things faring?” I ask Rose once the families are out of earshot.

“We’re running low on provisions.” Rose keeps her voice low, casting a worried glance around the bustling camp. “We’re doing what we can, but even the nearby villages are struggling to feed themselves.”

Guilt gnaws at my stomach. “I wish I could change that. I’m doing everything I can to get Mersos to agree on opening their trade routes to us.”

She inclines her head. “I know you are, Commander.”

I glance around at the people. Even in these conditions, they seem grateful. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime?”

“We could use some help distributing food to the refugees.”

Dante steps forward without hesitation. “I’ll lend a hand,” he offers, his voice firm with resolve.

I try to push down my shock, searching his face.

He turns to me with a reassuring smile. “We can’t let them go hungry.”

“No, we can’t.” I turn back to Rose. “We’ll both help.”

“Great,” Rose says. “Follow me.”

She leads us to a tent where steam rises from a pot big enough to be a cauldron. The smell of boiled root vegetables wafts through the air. Rose instructs us on how we can help and places a hand on my arm in thanks.

Grateful nods and murmurs of gratitude greet us as we set to work, handing out meager portions of food to the hungry refugees. Their faces light up with relief at the sight of sustenance, and I can’t help but feel a pang of empathy for their plight.

As we work side by side, I turn to find Dante’s gaze meeting mine, a silent understanding passing between us. There’s a warmth in his eyes that belies his stoic exterior, and for a moment, I’m grateful for his presence amidst the misery and misfortune.

Rose approaches us after a while and gives me a nod. “I just wanted to let you know how the refugees you brought in are doing.”

I pause my serving and turn to her. “Are they all right?”

“They’re scared shitless, but we’re trying to make them feel comfortable.” Rose shakes her head. “The Shadow Tsar is a fucking tyrant, treating his own people like scum.”

“That’s the thing,” I say. “They’re not really his people, are they? He usurped the former leader. Nobody knows where he’s from. He doesn’t care about the Dulcamaran people at all. He just wants their throne.”

“It’s not just that.” Rose lets out a sigh and checks over her shoulder. “The refugees have been pretty tight-lipped, but I’ve gained the trust of some of them. And they’ve told me what’s been happening to their people, why they’re fleeing and seeking refuge.”

I narrow my eyes. I always believed that he was starving them, not protecting them from the carnoraxis, abandoning them in a time of need. “What did they say?”

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