Page 104 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
With Ezekiel being so close to the end of his service, Rose is unwilling to tell him the truth of her situation, which according to my own research might be rather dire as I believe it hassomething to do with her blood. Only one medic agrees with me, unfortunately, though he is at a loss to help other than rest and a balanced diet.
Rose is optimistic everything will be as it should soon, but I am quite worried. Someone must tell my brother what is happening, but I believe the news had best be delivered in person rather than with unfeeling ink and parchment.
I shall deign to think better of you than my initial assessment of your character if you would pass along the pertinent information to Ezekiel. I appreciate your help in this endeavor.
Warm regards,
Celeste Fairchild
The letter was full of the woman’s tenacious and persnickety character, yet despite the dark outlook and pleas, his chest warmed a little at the thought that she believed it best to write to him. It implied a level of trust in him he hadn’t expected to want from a woman he’d once gone tête-à-tête with upon their first meeting. That feeling was something he’d have to analyze later.
In the meantime, she’d given him a rather loathsome task. As soon as Harlan told his friend of his wife’s condition, he would leave no matter what his assignment was. Dishonorable discharge or absent without leave would damage any hope of Ezekiel finding a steady income and would force him to rely upon family money, which would soon run out if not managed quite carefully. If Rose’s situation were in fact dire, Ezekiel would spend his entire fortune to save her, money be blasted to the stars.
There was something honorable in that, yet it spelled disaster.
What would Ezekiel do if he were in Harlan’s shoes? What would Harlan want his friend to say?
Moreover, what could Harlan do to protect his friend and yet still honor the Lady Celeste’s request?
He folded her letter and slipped it into the inside breast pocket of his uniform. Though it was merely parchment, the knowledge that it was so close to his heart—physically and metaphorically—made his stomach churn, but not entirely in a dread-like way.
He stepped into his tent and retrieved three pieces of parchment, a quill, ink, and his seal set.
The first letter he penned was to Carleton, requesting he use his influence to pressure the Colonel to move Ezekiel’s assignment to the capital. The second, to the Colonel himself to commend his friend for a promotion to the city’s Medic Guild, stating family reasons and Ezekiel’s own merit. Surely, it would be enough, though with only a few months left in his service, Harlan’s requests might be denied.
The final letter—he wrote to Celeste.
Lady Fairchild,
I hope this letter finds you as well as yours did me, meaning for the most part, all is well. I cannot write more than that lest this letter be intercepted by those who wish our country ill, though I am not anyone with much importance and rarely correspond to anyone except Lady Shackley, and I admit, I am not the best of writers.
As to your other opening statement, I would be hesitant to compare my fare here with that of a night in your presence. As I recall, I not only intrigued you, but I also proved I am not a banal dining companion, because if I were, I would’ve not been invited back three nights hence after our first meeting and allowed to trade victories with you in cards. Though I must admit, my military academy days do me justice. You would’ve made out handsomely if given the opportunity to attend. Many of my contemporaries need the comeuppance.
I am sorry to hear of Lady Rose’s misfortune and ill health. As Ezekiel’s direct superior, I am requesting his reassignment to the capital. I feel it would be beneficial to all, but I am at the mercy of those above even me. I will speak with him regardless—because it is the right thing to do, not necessarily to stay in your good graces, though that is something I would not mind.
Tell me, have you been successful in finding examples of women controlling family estates? If not, I would wager you may find some in the collection at Shackley Manor. If you’d like, I shall write a letter of introduction on your behalf to my mother, though she would probably allow you anyway. She dearly loves to speak about her collection of both books and art. I’d personally rather be out in the open instead of stuck inside a dusty library. I do enjoy the legend of King Arthur, but what man wouldn’t?
Warm regards,
Harlan Shackley
Chapter 21
THE NEBULA
Kase
WITH HIS ONLY ACCESS TO the outside world being a notebook and pencil, Kase had no idea just how many days passed. Clara had visited twice more, but that and his meager rations delivered every few hours when he wasn’t sleeping were his only indications the world kept moving. The only time he left his little tent prison was when his guards led him to the privy and back.
Not that exciting. But it was a little terrifying to do one’s business hovering above a hole in the ground with only a rough bedlinen strung up to keep the prying eyes from watching. The line for the privy was always long, but whether it was the guard presence or Kase’s scowl, most people ignored him.
The rest of the time in his tent was spent doodling in Clara’s notebook and writing letters he’d never send. Most went a little like:
Hals,
Heard some good gossip today while waiting for the privy. Well, it wasn’t gossip, necessarily. But I guess it would be now if I’m telling you? Whatever. Anyway, a woman is leaving her husband because he insulted someone important and got them booted from one of the nicer caverns (there is no such thing as a nicer cavern). She was telling her friend in line the whole ridiculous story that involved her calling her husband a clotpole. I think they’re both clotpoles, but I thought you’d get a laugh either way. Seems you aren’t the only one who loves Shakespeare.
Always,
