Page 9 of Salute, To Bravery
Rehan
From the small, barred window of my cell, I can see troops mobilizing and heavy artillery. The constant flow of military traffic speaks volumes, signaling an impending battle. The enemy is coming.
Is everything I’ve been trying to achieve about to come to nothing?
The ground vibrates with the distant thud of the machinery of war being maneuvered into place. Each rumble is a reminder of the conflict that’s raging beyond the confines of my captivity.
As I watch, a mixture of dread and anticipation knots in my stomach. The reality of my situation has never been clearer than it is now on the eve of battle. I have no influence on the strategy and strength that will clash on the fields beyond my sight. The impersonal cruelty of war will determine the outcome.
If a rescue of my fellow prisoners is attempted, all our fates will be sealed and our death warrants signed. Rules that are frequently broken govern wars. That was the case when the current government of my country took my mother hostage and forced me to fight. She died later from the injuries she sustained at their hands. This is something I’ve never told Harper. Mymother’s death weighs on my conscience, but maybe it happened for a reason. Her demise led me into my role as a negotiator for peace—and it led me to Harper, giving us the opportunity to work together to find a way to break the curse of war.
The door to my cell creaks open, and Harper enters. Her smart appearance contrasts the chaos outside. She looks worn out, the strain of the last few days evident in the tightness in her eyes and the rigid set of her jaw.
“Rehan,” she greets, her voice tired, too.
I rise to meet her gaze. “The preparations—”
“Yes,” she interrupts. “We’re strengthening our defenses and preparing for an enemy advance.”
I nod slowly, absorbing her words. The finality of her tone causes me a sharp pang of anxiety. “And us?” I ask, the question hanging between us, laden with all the unspoken fears and hopes that our unusual bond has nurtured.
Harper sighs, crossing the space to stand closer. “I don’t know what happens after today,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “If we push the advancing troops back, things will change. Whether it will be for better or worse, I can’t say.”
The honesty in her words stings. It’s a harsh reminder of the precarious thread on which our future hangs.
“Harper,” I start, then pause, searching for the right words. “No matter what happens, I want you to know—”
She reaches out, her hand briefly squeezing mine, her touch grounding. “I know, Rehan. I feel the same. These moments we’ve shared, as fleeting as they’ve been, have changed something fundamental in me. I’m not the same soldier I was before I met you.”
The admission brings bittersweet comfort to me. It’s an acknowledgment of the profound impact of our connection.
“Will you be out there, fighting?” I ask, the thought of her in the direct line of fire sending a jolt of fear through me.
“Yes,” she confirms, her lips pressing into a thin line of determination. “I’ll be commanding a unit on the eastern flank. It’s expected to be a hotspot.”
The mention of military strategy brings the reality of war into our personal conversation, blending the lines between Harper, the professional soldier, and Harper, the smart, beautiful woman I’m drawn to.
“Please be careful,” I urge, the intensity of my emotions surprising even me. “This war—”
“I know.” Her expression softens. “I’ll do everything I can to come back. To this. To you.”
As she turns to leave, I jolt into action. “Wait,” I call out, standing abruptly.
She pauses, looking back.
“Whatever happens tomorrow, remember this conflict isn’t just about territory or politics. It’s also about people. About us. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Harper nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Then, she presses her fingers to her lips and kisses them in a gesture of affection. I can no longer resist my feelings for her, and reaching forward, I cup her face between my hands and gently place my lips on hers. We share a precious moment of intimacy before I release my hold and step away.
And then she’s gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the accompanying sound of battle preparations. I can feel a knot in my stomach. Something isn’t right, yet I can’t tell what it is. There’s a burden sitting heavily on me, leaving me scared for the first time since I started my mission for peace.
Chapter Nine.
Harper
The camp is on high alert. The air is thick with tension, enough that I can almost feel it pressing against my skin as I make my way toward the command tent.
As I move briskly, my mind is racing. The guards I pass eye me with a mixture of respect and suspicion. Their gazes linger just a bit too long, and their salutes are a bit too stiff. I try to keep my expression neutral and posture relaxed, but my heart is pounding, and I can still taste Rehan on my lips from the previous evening.
