
My other currently active stories:
Transmorphosis
Red
My socials:
Bluesky
Mastodon
I also have Discord, ask me for an invite!
Send me your orphaned change, I promise to take good care of it:
Ko-Fi
Patreon
Hey all. You may have noticed this isn't posting at the usual time. This is because I've found work. It's long, hard hours in a location with iffy internet. So at this point I'll be posting what I can, when I can. Believe me, I intend to keep right on going with this story for you. It just won't be on a regular schedule anymore. I hope you are able to continue to enjoy the story!
Bravye settled the papers she held atop a stack of other papers on her increasingly cluttered desk. She looked up to where Isoli was standing opposite it, hands held demurely together in front of her, waiting patiently.
“Alright,” Bravye sighed. “I admit it, you were right. I was trying to recruit the wrong women.” She tapped the stack of papers. “How many is this?”
“Two hundred and forty three,” Isoli replied. “We’re still recruiting but I expect we won’t have a problem getting the remaining thirty-seven.”
“Good. Good.” Bravye leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. The work to prepare a unit was far heavier than she had expected. It wasn’t simply get guns, get mules to pull the guns, and get uniforms. It was tents, it was a mobile kitchen, it was supply wagons, it was tents, it was blankets, it was backpacks, it was… The mess that was her desk reflected the sem-organized chaos it too to get more than a quarter of a thousand people into a state where they could effectively reach the battlefield and be effective once there.
“There is one small thing,” Isoli stated.
“Oh, One’s sakes. Why? Don’t I have enough to do already?”
“Delivar’s granddaughter, Tallia. She’s insisting she be allowed to join.”
Bravye arched an eyebrow. “She does? But she’s never married.”
“She was engaged, and her fiance was killed,” Isoli reminded Bravye. “I know that, legally, it doesn’t count as her being widowed, but apparently she insists that she is a widow in her heart.”
Bravye pinched the bridge of her nose. “And what does Delivar say?”
“He’s forbidden her from doing it.”
“Then that settles it, doesn’t it.” Bravye made it a statement, not a question.
“She insists otherwise. She told me herself that, if she is not allowed to join, she will follow us to the battlefield anyway and simply take the place of the first woman to fall.”
Bravye slid a drawer open in her desk and felt for the bottle she’d stashed there. She scowled at Isoli when she did not find it. Isoli remained standing, not even a twitch of her eye to indicate she noticed anything.
“And what does Delivar say to that?”
“Many, many things. None of which are the least bit effective. She is a very determined girl.”
Sighing, Bravye slid the drawer she had continued to fruitlessly root around in. “Send for the girl. I’ll talk to her personally.”
Tallia was no less a firebrand than Bravye’s first sight of her had implied. She hadn’t so much walked through the door to Bravye’s office and more marched in, her face locked into a determined scowl that was the match for any man of the Moot. Her brown hair remained loose, the mark of a widow, and Bravye couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain at the way the war was making women barely older than this girl join the ranks that should never hold any but the oldest of matriarchs.
Before she could say a word, Tallia was standing stiff and proud before her desk, eyes locked on Bravye’s. “I will join the unit. Even if I must defy you to do it.”
Bemused, Bravye turned to Isoli, who had entered the room to take a position standing next to the door.. “Tea, please.” She glanced at the expression still rigidly locked to Tallia’s face. “Or perhaps something stronger.”
“I’ll have someone fetch some tea immediately, Great Lady,” Isoli replied, stepping back outside into the hall.
Bravye sighed, then turned back to the headstrong girl before her. “Sit.” She indicated the chairs set before the desk.
Tallia’s scowl deepened and she leaned even further over the desk. “I will join.”
Bravye stared from under brows that had descended a bit over her eyes. She let the silence linger for a moment, then leaned forward herself. “A soldier follows orders. I said ‘sit.”
Tallia blinked, then backed away from the desk a bit and settled into the chair. “So… I’m in?”
“No.”
The girl’s face shifted from determined to outraged and she began to rise from the chair. “But you said”
“I said sit!” Bravye barked. She forced her hand to stop trembling and lifted it from beneath the desk to slam palm down onto its top.
Tallia dropped back into the chair, sullen, but silent.
Bravye nodded, then settled against the back of her seat again. “Better. Do you know why I am saying no?”
“Because you don’t consider me a widow.”
“That’s part of it, certainly. You weren’t married to your young suitor. You are young and still have a long life ahead of you. One that could see you with a fine young man as your husband.”
Tallia opened her mouth to speak, but Bravye didn’t give her the chance. “That is only part of my objection. You are also arrogant and disobedient. I need soldiers, not insolent upstarts seeking revenge.”
This caused Tallia to pause, and Bravye could see the girl struggle with both her thoughts and her temper. She gave the girl time, wanting to see where the girl’s internal fight would go. After a moment, the girl clearly focused on making her face into something less hostile.
“Great Lady, I ask your forgiveness for my attitude, and ask you to give me the chance to plead my case.”
Bravye smiled a little, approving of the girl’s willingness to take a slice of humble pie. She was aggressive, but not to the point of complete unreason. She gave a nod as Isoli returned and handed her a cup of steaming tea before setting another before the girl and added a pot of honey between the two. Taking up the spoon from the honey, Bravye began sweetening her tea as she focused back on Tallia. “How old are you, girl?”
“I just turned twenty two. I am a legal adult now.” The girl puffed up her chest just a bit, her face proud.”
“Just barely,” Bravye agreed. “But barely is still adult. Well then, Tallia, as an adult you have the right to state your case.” Finished stirring honey into her tea, Bravye reached for the drawer to make it a bit stronger, then scowled when she remembered that it was as empty of strength as the Moot.
Tallia nodded, then took in a deep breath. Bravye could tell she was attempting to school her voice into being something calm and reasonable, but even so, as the girl began to speak, Bravye could hear a stubborn streak of rage rumbling in the lower tones of her words.
“I know that, though I am legally an adult, I am not legally to be considered a widow. But I loved Jacta. I would have married him the moment I turned twenty two had he not been called away. Had he not… Had he not been killed.”
“You should grieve for a time, then take the time to find another good man to take care of you,” Bravye gently said.
Tallia gave a bitter laugh. “Should I? Would I even find another?” Her voice had gone sour. “Jacta was so very, very good to me. He treated me with kindness, he listened to what I had to say, he laughed when I laughed, he wiped my tears when I cried… He loved me, and I loved him. How many other men are there out there like him?”
“Not many,” Bravye admitted. “Nevertheless…”
“Nevertheless nothing. Forgive my rudeness, Great Lady. But we small people see the casualty lists, same as you of the high and mighty. There are few men like my Jacta, and they are getting fewer with each battle. By the time the war is done, how many of them will return? How many of even the merely adequate ones will return? I can do math, Great Lady. There will be too many women for too few men.”
Bravye sighed gently. She couldn’t dispute the girl’s calculations, both in terms of how many truly loving men like her own Blastrup there were, and in terms of how many of them were likely to be left after the war concluded. Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but Tallia wasn’t finished.
“Besides, Great Lady,” she said softly, almost as if the brash young maiden had suddenly found embarrassment, “I may not have been married, I may not have even been old enough to be married. But he wifed me all the same before he left. It was my gift to him, to help him remember me by.”
It took Bravye a moment to realize what the girl was saying. When she did, she locked shocked eyes with Isoli for a second before her head turned back to Tallia. “You mean…”
“I am no more a pure, virginal maiden than yourself, Great Lady,” she softly replied. But then the steal returned to her eyes. “And I am glad of it. The elves took Jacta away from me, but that, they did not keep from me at least.” Then her expression turned wry. “So what man who fears the One would have me?”
Silence settled on the room as all three women sat still with their own thoughts. She found herself thinking of her lost Blastrup, of the deep conversations, of the gentle touches, and of nights of pleasure. She found herself wondering what it would have been like, had she never had the passion along with the companionship, and found herself not liking where that led her.
Sighing, she brought her attention back to the present. “Isoli,” she said. “Make out the paperwork. Register Tallia of Greywalk as my aide and orderly.” She shook her head. “Your grandfather will be very cross with me, but at least I can keep you under my thumb. It might mollify him some.”
An explosion of pleasure expanded on Tallia’s face. “ Thank you Great Lady! You won’t regret it.”
Bravye scowled at the girl. “You have a temper and you are headstrong. You are quite likely to make me regret it. As I said, I need soldiers who keep their heads and follow orders, not headstrong combatants that will upend good order to get their way. If you go off, well… I won’t give you a second chance. I’ll send you back to your grandfather in chains. Do you understand me, girl?”
Tallia swallowed, her expression solemn. “Yes, Great Lady. I understand.”
“Good.” Bravye stood, prompting Tallia to jerk upright out of her own seat. “Dismissed, soldier.”
As Isoli escorted Tallia back out of the mansion, Bravye sank back into her seat and rested her face in her hands. “One damn me,” she muttered. Delivar is going to kill me.”



