Page 37 of Winds of Death
“Looking to drown our sorrows in soda and donuts.” Pretty Face took up the tale readily enough, though he stayed out of Tiny’s swinging range. “That’s when we ended up in a donut shop run by a troll man and his daughter. And Tiny…”
Tiny shot Pretty Face another look that had Pretty Face dodging to put Stickyfingers between himself and Tiny’s fists.
“When word came that Little Aldon had to disband, we volunteered to help them move their shop.” Stickyfingers grinned before he patted his stomach. “They thanked us for our help with donuts.”
Pretty Face smirked in a way that made his thin mustache waggle. “And she thanked Tiny with a kiss. Probably inspired by all the muscles he was showing off.”
Tiny muttered under his breath, his gray skin darkening with his embarrassed flush.
“Well, good for you, Tiny.” Fieran dropped back long enough to give Tiny a slap on the back.
This would’ve been a good moment to bring up that Fieran and Pip were courting, but Fieran bit back the words. Pip had wanted to be there when they told the flyboys together, and he wasn’t going to spoil that for her.
All of them stepped into the hangar, and Mak met Fieran with a back slap that had Fieran staggering forward a step. “Good to have you back.”
“Good to be back.” Fieran returned the gesture, trying to pretend he wasn’t still trying to regain his balance. He really wanted to sit down and rest, despite the fact that he’d been sitting for hours while flying.
But he couldn’t rest just yet. He nodded to his pilots as he turned toward the door that led toward the other bays in the hangar. “I’d better report in to Colonel Dentley.”
The flyboys finally stopped following him as he strode through the hangar bays until he finally reached Bay 12, which Colonel Dentley had turned into a command room and office for the three squadrons.
Colonel Dentley stood near the back of the room with his adjutant Lt. Busher at his side with his clipboard. The table with the charts and maps had been moved out of the way to create more space in the center of the room.
Capt. Fleetwood, who was now the senior captain, stood on the other side of Colonel Dentley with Lt. Hadley from the late Capt. Kentworth’s squadron beside him. He must be the new commanding officer for that squadron.
A few of the bomber pilots were filing from the room, and Fieran halted and waited for them to exit before he stepped inside.
After marching across the room, he stood at attention before the colonel. “Capt. Laesornysh reporting for duty.”
“At ease, Laesornysh.” Colonel Dentley nodded to him. “It will be good to have you in the skies again, although General Laesornysh has stepped in rather admirably.”
“So I saw.” Fieran tried to keep his tone professional, but his shock over that still leaked through.
At another nod from the colonel, Capt. Fleetwood and Lt. Hadley stepped forward, greeted Fieran, and filed from the room, leaving Fieran alone with Colonel Dentley and Lt. Busher.
Colonel Dentley swept a glance over Fieran. “While you have been cleared for duty, I’m putting you on light duty for at least the next week, perhaps longer. I will not risk you or your squadron by putting you on long patrols before you’re ready.”
“Yes, sir.” Fieran nodded. As much as he wanted to argue, he could feel his own lingering tiredness. It was the right call, even if he wanted to pretend he was back to full strength.
“In a week, we will also be receiving new recruits.” Colonel Dentley clasped his hands behind his back. “Most of them will be going to fill in the losses sustained by the other squadrons. But I will be assigning four of the new recruits to you.”
Fieran waited. Based on Colonel Dentley’s tone, there was something else going on.
“After a great deal of debate, army policy was changed to allow Escarlish women to join Alliance Flying Corps units. As your squadron is currently the only integrated Alliance Flying Corps squadron at the moment, I have no choice but to assign them to you.” Colonel Dentley’s voice held the barest trace of something beneath his professional tone. If Fieran were to guess, he was one of those who disapproved of allowing women to serve.
“I’m happy to have them.” Fieran had no trouble with adding a few Escarlish women to his squadron. He already had female elf pilots and a female mechanic. He might as well add four human female pilots to his motley squadron.
After all, many of the early aviatrices had pushed the boundaries just as much as the male aviators like Capt. Arfeld. He saw no reason to bar them from serving. Many of them had far more flight hours than the male pilots currently being rushed through training.
Besides, Escarlish women were allowed to serve in the navy, either on ships or airships, as long as they were an integrated Alliance ship where elf or troll women already served. It only made sense to open the Flying Corps the same way.
Fieran had to suppress his grin. Aylia and Pip were going to be thrilled.
Chapter
Twelve
Fieran buckled his swords onto his back over his fatigue shirt, the morning chill wafting around the flap to his tent door. When he stepped outside, the gray dawn held the scents of damp earth, yet a promise of the warmth to come built in the humidity clinging to Fieran’s skin.
