Fleglings by Sherwood Smith

Author:Sherwood Smith [Smith, Sherwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wuxia fantasy, xuanhuan, fantasy, martial arts fantasy, martial arts, strong heroines, imperial courts, martial arts training, dragons, military fantasy
ISBN: 9781611389708
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2021-08-21T00:00:00+00:00

15

“Now both the barefoots are missing at mess,” Yulin Pel said to Weed a day after their return from the battle. He was still angry over the loss, though at least it hadn’t been his command.

He and Weed stood behind their hut, in a hard, slanting rain, which meant they wouldn’t be overheard.

Yulin said to Weed, “If I follow them, they’ll know it. I want you to find out where they’re going.”

“But I—”

Lightning struck Weed. When he could breathe again, he discovered that he lay face down in the mud, the entire left side of his face throbbing. His wits began to return, as the shock of being knocked down coalesced into pain.

Yulin scowled down at him, snarling, “Did I ask you to question orders?”

Did I ask you to question orders? Falik had said at the height of the battle. That their side lost. Not just lost, but lost because those two farm turds had bulled through the attack, scattering everyone.

Falik hadn’t hit Yulin, which would have been preferable to being humiliated in front of their army. Falik had followed up his question with, If we were in a real battle, would there be time to argue? They’re right on top of us!

“Get up,” Yulin snapped, angry because it unsettled him to see Weed lying there. He knew he was wrong to hit Weed so hard, and hated the knowing. There was always memory to justify it: his own father, after every beating, reminding him that no one would coddle warriors in the field. No general reached his rank by tender feelings.

Yulin said, a shade less truculently, “Of course you won’t follow them. You follow one of their grunts. Who have to know where they are. My guess is, they get cold food and take it wherever they are. You find where, and come back and tell me.”

Weed bowed, head low, hands flat on his sodden thighs as pink rain dripped off his nose.

Yulin whirled around and returned to the hut, getting away from the sight of Weed’s face with that red blotch on it, the thin trickle of blood from his nose. He’d slapped Weed plenty of times, but until now had never hit him with his fist.

If only those low-born shits didn’t make him so furious. The injustice of two mud grubbers thrusting their way into the elite! And tomorrow he’d be forced to stand there and listen to both of those turds be ranked above him for the month, because of that stupid battle that Falik had commanded so badly. Not that Falik cared. At most, because of his loss he’d slip down to number two, but that wouldn’t last long . . .

Mouse had been uneasy all the next day, sensing unfriendly eyes. No surprise when she caught a covert glance from Weed one too many times. It was hard to read his expression because half his face was swollen, but she didn’t need to read it to suspect trouble.

When the mess bell rang, and she

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