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Chapter 12: Commander Julian

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Cal trudged through the deserted streets of the eastern quarter, trying to stay alert through the grogginess of exhaustion. Auremos was quiet, the predawn lull in activity giving it the appearance of rest. Like the unsettled wilderness around Cal’s old Arai mountain training camp, the city was intensely alert at this hour – arched and taut as if in anticipation, though of what Cal had no idea. It was the time of night when the gods, if they even existed, had the power, and vulnerability, to step out of the shadows.

The huntress constellation hung low in the west, indicating that it was an hour till sunrise. Cal didn’t know why the Bandála bothered to station him on the wall at night. There were plenty of Korelian soldiers with far better eyesight than his, but he’d still been rostered onto the night watch. Perhaps it was Valerius’ idea, so that he could be observed while he was at a disadvantage. His tracker skills were the result of years of specialised training, and he’d worked hard at it to compensate for his lack of natural ability in other military skills. In Auremos, though, he was forced to keep his skills hidden, which rendered him next to useless. He hated it.

A bird flapped into the night, as if shrugged off its perch.

‘Ah, Cal. There you are.’

The quiet voice rose from an alley behind Cal. He spun around as a soldier stepped into view. Above the man’s head, the crescent moon sailed like a broken halo, or a curved sabre about to strike. In the dim light, Cal identified a biting gaze and a strong, upright posture that spoke of authority.

‘I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Commander Julian. I would like to discuss something with you.’

Cal had gone to great lengths to ensure that the Bandála recruits believed he was nothing more than a clumsy runaway slave. Only Valerius, Xanthe and Artemis knew the truth about him. The fact that Julian knew his name made Cal nervous.

In the distance, a bell tolled.

‘I have to get to the aqueducts, sir. I’m late for my shift.’

Julian smiled. ‘Nice try. You were posted to the night watch on the northern wall, which ended thirty minutes ago.’

The commander knew where and when Cal was posted. Why would that interest him? Cal considered his options. He was wearing the Bandála uniform, and while he wasn’t yet a member of the Bandála, Valerius had instructed him to behave like a recruit so that no one would suspect his true identity. He decided he should see what Julian wanted.

Julian drew a deep breath as if inhaling the shadows and said, ‘There’s been a recent spate of thefts in your neighbourhood. Have you noticed anything?’

The commander also knew where Cal lived.

‘No, sir. Nothing.’

Cal couldn’t see Julian’s expression in the darkness, but the commander’s stillness told Cal that his lie hadn’t been believed. Julian unlatched the door of a guard house behind him then stood aside and motioned for Cal to enter. Cal took in the single lit candle propped on the bloodwood table, the dry straw scattered across the stones, and the lone chair sitting in the middle of the room. Instantly comprehending, he recoiled. Julian caught his arm, pressed a knife into his ribs, steered him into the guard house, and tossed him towards the chair.

‘Sit.’

‘Commander, I—’ Cal swallowed his words as the blade caressed his cheek.

‘Do as I say.’

All Cal’s instincts were screaming at him to attack, but he couldn’t risk blowing his cover. He lowered himself into the chair.

‘Sir, I haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ Julian asked, and dragged Cal’s collar open.

When Cal snatched Julian’s wrist, he felt the knife prick his throat and froze.

‘I know what you and Artemis did on the solstice,’ Julian said. ‘One word from me and the three Bandála officers standing right outside will spike first your head and then hers.’

Someone knocked on the door and called, ‘Are you alright in there, Commander?’

Julian cocked an eyebrow. ‘What should I tell him?’

His breathing shallow, Cal released the commander’s wrist.

‘Everything’s fine,’ Julian called. He straightened, shook out his arm, and said, ‘I’ve heard you have quite some talent, Cal.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I have my sources.’

Dreading the answer, Cal asked, ‘What do you want?’

Julian leaned on the arms of the chair and pinned Cal with his dark blue gaze. ‘Your complete and unquestioning obedience. You will do as I say, when I say. If you don’t, the Arai masters you have betrayed will become the least of your worries. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes,’ Cal whispered.

‘Excellent.’ Julian smiled, and with the tip of his blade he traced the black circumference and mileskúlos line of Cal’s Arai tattoo. ‘From now on, Cal, you belong to me.’