Page 60 of Savage Devotion
"And if the political situation changes, if our alliance becomes untenable..."
Looking into Kaelgor's eyes, I see the certainty there. I believe it might actually be possible.
"Alright." The decision feels both monumental and inevitable. "But we start by dealing with the spy. Whatever else happens between us, I won't let someone use it against our people."
"Where do we start?"
"By being smarter than they expect. By using their assumptions against them." I step back finally, giving myself space to think tactically again. "But first, we need to get you properly treated and these bodies back to camp."
"And then?"
"Then we set a trap."
The sun sits low on the horizon by the time we finish wrapping the bodies and gathering what salvageable equipment remains. Three canvas shrouds lie side by side on makeshift stretchers, silent testimony to my failures as a commander.
Kaelgor moves slowly but steadily, his injuries bound with field dressings that will hold until we reach proper medical supplies. The infection concern remains, but at least thebleeding has stopped. Still, I catch him favoring his left side when he thinks I'm not watching.
"The spy network," I say as we begin the trek back to camp. "I've been thinking about how to approach it."
"And?"
"Heldrik expects me to be emotional. Reckless. He's spent years telling anyone who'll listen that I'm too impulsive for real command responsibility." The bitter truth of it sits sour in my mouth. "So we use that against him."
Kaelgor adjusts his grip on one of the stretcher poles, rust-red eyes considering. "You want to play into his expectations."
"Exactly. Give him exactly what he thinks he wants to see." The plan crystallizes as I speak, tactics falling into place with satisfying precision. "A commander so compromised by personal feelings that she makes predictably poor decisions."
"What kind of poor decisions?"
"The kind that reveal who's feeding him information. The kind that force the spy to expose themselves to maintain their position."
We crest a small rise, and the camp comes into view below, scattered tents arranged in defensive positions around Heldrik's command pavilion. Smoke rises from cooking fires, and I can see sentries at their posts, maintaining the illusion of routine while harboring treachery in their ranks.
One of them betrayed these three soldiers to their deaths.
The thought kindles something cold and sharp. Not rage exactly, but something more focused. More useful.
"I have an idea," I continue, voice dropping lower as we approach the perimeter. "But it's dangerous. For both of us."
"Explain."
"Tonight, I announce my intention to raid the Bloodfang supply depot northeast of here. Completely unauthorized,tactically questionable, and motivated entirely by personal vendetta for their attacks on our positions."
Kaelgor's pace slows slightly. "The Bloodfang depot is heavily fortified. It would be a suicide mission for a small force."
"Which is exactly why Heldrik will believe I'm stupid enough to attempt it. Especially if I make it clear that my judgment is compromised by..." I gesture between us. "Recent developments."
"You want to use our connection as bait."
"I want to use theappearanceof our connection as bait." The distinction matters, though I'm not entirely sure why. "If the spy believes I'm planning something catastrophically reckless, they'll need to report it immediately. And they'll need to be specific about timing, routes, force composition."
"Which means they'll have to break communication protocol."
"Exactly. Emergency intelligence takes priority over operational security. They'll have to risk exposure to get the information to Heldrik quickly enough for him to act on it."
We reach the camp's outer perimeter, and the sentries snap to attention. I recognize both of them—Varrick and Jon, solid soldiers I've fought beside for months. But even familiar faces feel suspect now, tainted by the knowledge that someone here has been selling information that got my people killed.
"Commander." Varrick nods respectfully. "Rough day?"
