Hopebreaker: A Steampunk Dystopian Fantasy (The Great Iron War, Book 1) by Dean F. Wilson

Author:Dean F. Wilson [Wilson, Dean F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781909356092
Publisher: Dioscuri Press
Published: 2014-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Taberah met with Rommond in her quarters, one of the few trips he made to the Order. It was almost always the other way around.

“Nine crates,” Rommond said.

“Don’t ask why there aren’t ten.”

“I wasn’t going to. Nine is quite a haul.”

“A thousand coils in each,” Taberah said. “I was hoping for more.”

“You’re never satisfied, are you?”

“I won’t be until the Regime is finished.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be satisfied even then,” Rommond predicted.

They looked at each other as if they had had this conversation before, and there was disagreement in their eyes. Another conversation played out silently in their gaze, and it ended in a stalemate.

“So then,” Taberah began.

“I won’t field the Hopebreaker,” Rommond interjected.

“When will you?” she asked, as if to imply it was a toy still in its packaging, as if Rommond was collecting soldiers while she was losing hers in war.

“When the time is right,” Rommond replied. “I cannot risk the Regime knowing what we have ... and getting access to more of our designs.” He said this last part with great difficulty, as if the words were barbed.

“I know it hurts,” Taberah said. “But you have to let him go.”

Rommond ignored her. “Nine thousand coils. That will get you nine landships. They’re old models, but they’re fairly effective.”

“Not as effective as the Hopebreaker.”

“No, but we will need that for the future.”

“If we have one, Rommond.”

He placed both hands upon her shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes. “We are fighting for that future, Tabs.”

“Why does it feel like I am fighting alone?” she asked. A solitary tear ran down her face.

Rommond did not seem moved. He had seen those tears before. He used guns in battle, but she used everything she had. “If you can only fight your way,” he said, “you will always feel alone.”

At that point, Jacob entered the room with Teller. Rommond gave Teller a dirty look, which Teller gave back with interest.

“Nice to see you again, Edward,” Teller said with his taunting grin.

“And you, Reginald.”

Jacob looked back and forth between the two men, and he could hear the gritting of teeth on each opposing side. “Bad blood?” he asked.

“You could say that,” Rommond replied.

“He will say all sorts,” Teller growled, pointing his finger at the general as if it were a hexing wand. “He is the reason my face is on a poster in the first place!”

Rommond looked to Taberah, as if to suggest that if she did not throw Teller out, he would.

“Can you leave us, please, Teller?” Taberah asked.

Teller rolled his eyes. “Very well,” he said, and he left as slowly as he could, eyeing Rommond as he went, as if his eyes were the barrels of guns.

“What was all that about?” Jacob asked when Teller had finally left.

“History,” Rommond said.

“Teller isn’t always easy to get on with,” Taberah explained.

“You should have gotten rid of him years ago,” Rommond said. “He’s a liability.”

“He’s still useful, Rommond. We need everyone we can get.”

“He seemed friendly enough to me,” Jacob said. “A bit creepy, but I’ve met worse.

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