Page 50 of Flameborne: Chosen
I shivered. My skin tingled.
The Commander moved his hand as if to pat my shoulder, but jerked it back to his side before he touched me. “Come,” he said, that gentle smile gone from his features. “Let’s steal you some breakfast and be on our way.”
Ten minutes later, tearing into a crusty bread roll still warm from the oven and filled with hot ham and melting cheese, I followed the Commander through the busy halls of the building, gaping like a child.
The floors were indeed laid with slate that had been mortared into place. The painted walls were hung with portraits of former Commanders, Furyknight war heroes, and detailed depictions of various dragons.
I swallowed chunks of bread and meat as I scanned the walls for the new sights to see at every turn.
Here and there, vows for Knights, or quotes from previous leaders had been painted in beautiful calligraphy. But most of the walls were blank of decoration, holding only maps or instructions for wartime alarms, leaving the beauty to the carvings on the stair railings, or the molding along the floor.
The staircases were wide and tall, designed for massive men. They lined hallways and climbed from alcoves through the ground floor. So many. Such a big building. I was overwhelmed. But as soon as I tore my eyes from the incredible structure and its decoration, I was smacked in theface with the sheer number ofmen.Standing together in the hallways talking. Climbing stairs. Calling to each other—some jogging to catch friends. Others rushing from training, or perhaps unhappy masters.
All large men. Tall. Physically strong. They came in every build and shape from lithe, lean men who looked and moved like nocked arrows ready to fly, to massive, bear-like figures who could grasp my entire head in one thick palm, and whose chests blocked the view of a doorway.
Some quiet. Some loud. All dressed in dragonhide leathers that ranged from jet black, to deep brown, and a few that seemed blue from the corner of your gaze, but turned gray when you looked right at them.
All wore the leather trousers and the same, perfectly-crafted boots, shined to a near mirror-finish. Most wore their jackets, some with scales or spines on the shoulders to denote rank, all with their bronze-molded, enamel sigils pinned to their chests. A few were in shirtsleeves. They were all handsome and confident andterrifying.
They were clearly deadly. You could see it in the way they moved—each possessing the easy grace of a man unconsciously aware of his strength. A savage, unspoken confidence. Their bodies held the same tension as a coiled snake: not attacking, but ready to do so in a blink.
And yet, themostdeadly of them marched just in front of me, heedless of the danger surrounding him. Perhaps because that same confidence inhimwas born of unerring control.
As the Commander strode briskly down the wide corridor, each of these powerful, deadly men snapped to attention and saluted as he passed. No matter their size, or what might be present on the shoulders of their jacket, they all moved with alacrity at the sight of him. Their leader. TheirCommander,in more than name.
My trembling began anew, in part because there were so many men. And in part because the Commander had been kind the day before. I’d felt safe at his side. But now…
‘Donavyn is respected becausehe’s trusted,’Akhane interjected amid my churning thoughts.‘His strength is an asset to you, not a weapon to be used against you. Be calm, Little Flame. You’re in good hands.’
Before I could respond, the Commander turned sharply and pushed a large, swinging door aside, holding it for me to enter ahead of him.
I stopped dead.
He frowned. “Bren, are you—”
“You’re the Commander, you should go first,” I said hurriedly, taking a step back.
“And you are a woman, and I am a gentleman,” he said with a tight smile. “I appreciate the gesture, Bren. But I would hold the door for a woman of any rank. And we don’t have time to argue about it. I’ll make it an order if that will ease your mind.”
I shook my head and scuttled into the room which, to my surprise, looked like a general store.
I stood at the center of the wide, square floor, turning a slow circle to take in all the cabinets and shelves that were packed wall to wall, and floor to ceiling. Every item of clothing, some weapons, tools, leatherwork straps and rings, every kind of blanket, sheet, and cover imaginable. There were even books.
My eyes landed on those and my heart leaped. There had been six books in my home and I’d read each of them a dozen times. But here there were three full shelves. There had to be a hundred books or more, and—
The Commander cleared his throat and I turned quickly, expecting his disapproval. Instead, he looked thoughtful, but he gestured to an older man standing behind the shop counter.
“Kearney, this is the Quartermaster. If you are ever in need of equipment, you should come here.”
I nodded as he turned back to the man who was wiry and older, but still vital. His graying hair barely more than whisps covering his bald pate.
“She needs to be measured immediately, and clothed in the best you can do for the Acknowledgement this morning. The servants gave her adress,”the Commander said in the same flat, sharp tone of disapproval he’d had when he saw the dress in the first place.
This is… notappropriate,Bren.
I swallowed. The man behind the counter stared at me, his brows high. But he didn’t question the Commander, only bobbed his head, then ushered me through the little swinging half-door into another room beyond.
The second room was far too small for the sheer height of the ceiling, but half of it was taken up with a loft of some kind, levels of storage shelves and cubby holes.
