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Description
Alyson

"MOVE OUT! MOVE OUT!"

The crier ran through the camp yelling the order at the top of his lungs. Aly's eyes flew open, she threw off her blanket and without so much as a yawn or a stretch, she began to dress.

Her fingers flew over the fastenings of her tall-grass yellow uniform before she reached for her camouflaged armor. The men around her were just staggering to their feet by the time she began to roll up her sleeping equipment. Just as she straightened up and checked that her helmet covered most of her face, the flaps of the tent flew open and in strode the Lord General Madoc, right on time as usual.

The Lord General's mismatched eyes flashed with anger as the men tried to pick up their pace. Just two people in the tent of twenty had been ready to move in under three minutes – Aly and her friend, Rupert. As the slower men finished preparing for the days' march and lined up, Aly smiled with pride behind her helmet. They had done it again. They had proven that the training they had received at the Military Academy of the Land of Africa was far superior to the academies of the other Lands. They were the best of the best.

Once the motion in the tent had ceased, the Lord General strolled between the neat lines of soldiers in the tent. "This tent is the abomination of the camp," he said as though discussing a flock of sheep. "Most of you are lazy slugs, unorganized and unrefined. There are just two exceptions."

He stopped in front of Rupert and looked into his eyes. Like most people, Rupert did not return his stare, but instead focused on the Lord General's nose. The Lord General moved on to Aly. She looked up.

They held each other's gaze for a full minute. Aly was the only person in the camp capable of looking at those strange blue and green eyes without getting fidgety or looking away. It was a form of defiance, he could punish her for it, but that was not what frightened her.

"Hmmm..."

That was his sign. They looked away at the same time and Aly breathed in relief. She did not think that he had noticed but he had sounded displeased when he gave the signal. It may just have been her defiance annoying him at last, or it might have been that he had noticed that she was a woman.

On the very first day at the encampment, Lord General Madoc had announced that according to his father's principles, no women would fight in this war to end all wars. All the women soldiers were enraged but the women from Africa made the biggest fuss.

Every soldier in the National African Army had to graduate from the Military Academy of the Land of Africa. A quarter of everyone who sent in a Plea (the nickname for the application essay the students were required to write) came in for a trial week. Half would fall out or be removed before the week was done and half of the remaining number would make it to the end of their training. Once they had graduated, a quarter of the soldiers made it into the National Army. None of the women wanted to throw away such an achievement.

Many women left: it was their last order and they would obey it with dignity. However, some women, especially those from Africa, shaved off their thin layer of hair and stayed on, disguised as men. They knew that their fellow soldiers were too close to each other to report them.

Just a few days later, the women realized how determined the Lord General Madoc was to keep women out of his army. He had inspected every soldier in the camp himself and sorted out all but six of the disguised soldiers. Those caught were executed the next day by hanging.

Several of the women requested that Aly, under the name of Albert, jump off the platform while hanging onto them to make sure that their necks broke. The Lord General granted their requests and issued Aly the worst order she had ever received. How many times had she embraced her friends one last time, jumped of the platform and heard the horrible crack as their necks snapped? The memory made her shudder.

But there was no time to dwell on the past. Today they would cross to Lavardia, where they would camp in the human city before they moved on to…something. No one knew the specifics of what the army was going to do yet. The Lord General would tell them once they had landed and occupied the city of Yarthel.

The Lord General ducked out of the tent, and the soldiers set about doing their daily chore. Half of the group tore down the tent while the other half went to fetch the breakfast rations and other supplies. Aly and Rupert were on water duty. They pushed their way out of the encampment and headed toward the well on the outskirts of the nearby village.

When they had reached the safety and quiet in the shadow of the first few houses, Rupert leaned over and whispered to her.

"Do you think he knows?"

"I don't know. It seems like he does, but he hasn't punished me yet."

Rupert gazed at her for a moment, his eyes clouded with worry, reminding Aly of the first time they had met. Once when she was six, she had danced around the edge of the village well when he came to fetch water for his family. He had given her the same worried look and begged her to come away form the dark pit. She stuck out her tongue at him and continued dancing, only to fall in a split second later. After returning to the village for help, Rupert had been the one to offer her his hand – whether he had the strength or not – to lift her the last few feet out of the well. They had been inseparable ever since.

"Al," he said, using his nickname for her. "Please don't look at him again like that. You're my best friend...I don't want to have to jump off the platform with you."

Rupert removed the wooden cover of the well while Aly tied the rope to the first bucket's handle. She threw the bucket into the darkness and waited a few seconds after she heard the smack of wood on water before she began to haul it up.

"I feel as though I have to look in his eyes. No one else can, and maybe I shouldn't, but I feel that if I avoided his eyes then he would get angry, and maybe he would do something worse than just hanging."

"What's worse than hanging?"

Aly said nothing. They both knew that there were worse things, things that they did not want to think about, things that the Elves and such were rumored to have done to the humans when they destroyed Domicallia. Aly filled the next bucket and she and Rupert hurried back to camp.

Their tent-mates filled their flasks with water and someone handed Aly her ration of bread for breakfast. She stuffed it in her mouth as she took her place in the long, straight marching lines. In just a few minutes, a horn sounded and the lines began to move.

The sky was clouding over, providing relief from the usual heat but promising rain, maybe even a storm in the near future. It made no difference to Aly whether it poured rain or Sun shone with all his might. She had learned to march, camp, and fight in all possible conditions that Earth might deal out.

The march to Zalnina was around an hour long but the trip through the city was another matter. Hundreds of people lined the narrow roads, admiring the finest troops in the world, sent by their queens and kings to aid the Lord General Madoc in his fight against the foul creatures that had slaughtered so many men without mercy. Thousands of soldiers marched through the streets, more than had been seen since the Great War, the armor of their Lands mixed but somehow perfect together. They marched down to the docks where hundreds of boats waited to carry this massive army over to Lavardia.

Aly's group was near the front of the line. She waited as first three, six, then nine ships filled to their limit with soldiers before it was her turn. She had the strangest feeling as she stepped onto the wooden gangplank that she would never set foot on Galard or any other Land's soil again. She almost paused for one last glance at the place that she had lived and traveled on for over a month, but remembered herself in time and hurried aboard.

The crew made sure that all of the soldiers ended up in the special cabins that they had arranged at the last minute. There were two cabins for the soldiers, wide spaces that took up whole decks of the ship with as many triple-layer beds as would fit crammed into the hold. There were only a few pathways between the beds, most no more than three feet wide. Aly found a bunk across from Rupert, threw her sack on it, and stood at attention.

The sounds of tramping feet on deck died down and the sounds of the crew replaced them as they ran around, hurrying to get the ship underway. Water sloshed against the hull and several soldiers who were unaccustomed to water travel grabbed for bedposts to steady themselves.

Once they had left Zalnina Harbor, one of the Lord General's handpicked officers climbed below deck to give them their orders. He attempted to stroll down the narrow aisles between the beds with an air of self-importance, but it was clear that he was getting seasick.

"Right, your orders," he swallowed and stumbled over to the nearest bedpost to steady himself. After several deep breaths, he straightened up and started again.

"When we land in Lavardia we will be in the human city of Yarthel. The humans there are said to have assisted in the destruction of Domicallia about three years ago, so we must surround and occupy the city quickly so that no one can run off to warn the Elves."

The officer clamped his mouth shut and turned away. A few of the soldiers fought to hide amused smiles. No one else was getting seasick, not even the ones who had been on just one other boat in their lives to get to Galard. The officer turned around, now looking very pale indeed, and continued, shuffling toward the exit as he spoke.

"When we arrive, this group will head to the city gates. No one is to be allowed out and everyone trying to get in should be-"

He held his hand over his mouth for a full minute before he could continue, then he said, "Should be captured and questioned," and made a mad dash for the ladder that led to the deck. The tension in the hold melted away as the soldiers whooped and cheered, and a few minutes later, the captain came down to tell them to get some rest.

The soldiers settled down on their bunks, waiting for the boat to land so that they could go about their business. This would be the first war in over a century and the first of many battles for most of the soldiers. Aly glanced over at Rupert to see if he was asleep yet. He grinned and rolled his eyes. Where would she be without her friend to keep her spirits up? She closed her eyes and let the gentle swaying of the ship lull her into a restless sleep.

"Anyone down here by the names of Albert or Rupert of the hundred fifty-seventh from Africa?"

Aly forced herself to open her eyes and sat up. She hit her head on the bottom of the bunk above her and swore.

"Shall I take that as a yes?" called the cabin boy.

"Yes," she answered, pitching her voice to a lower tone than usual.

"You're wanted in the captain's quarters."

Aly reached over and punched Rupert. He groaned and rolled over on his back.

"Are we there already?"

"No, the captain wants to see us."

"Oh."

First Aly then Rupert jumped down from their bunks and made their way over to the young boy at the foot of the ladder. He led them up and out into the cool night air where the wind was picking up for the storm ahead, and across the deck to the captain's quarters where he left them at the door. Rupert knocked and a voice inside called them in.

The room was dark, lit by a single lamp sitting on a desk built into the wall. At the desk sat the Lord General himself, taking notes about the features of a map of Yarthel. Aly and Rupert bowed in turn, but he showed no sign of noticing them. Minutes crept by and he said nothing, then, without glancing up, he spoke.

"You are Albert and Rupert of the hundred fifty-seventh division of the army sent by Africa, are you not?"

"Yes sir," Rupert murmured

"Very good."

The Lord General threw down his quill and turned in his chair to look at them.

"As you have doubtless noticed, the soldiers from Africa are by far the best. I would rather have a hundred African soldiers than a thousand Selmerians, however, beggars can't be choosers, and I am grateful for all those I have."

He stood up and walked towards them, looking them over like horses for sale.

"When we land in Yarthel, the soldiers on the ships ahead of us will have located all of the gates in and out of the city and set up temporary barriers in front of them. With luck, they will also have pushed everyone off the streets. The soldiers on this ship will then set up a better guard at the gates and others will patrol the edge of the city and the forest to make sure that no one escapes. A group of soldiers who I have selected myself will block all entrances and exits to the Lord of Yarthel's house, then I shall go in, establish a temporary base, and have a little chat with the Lord of Yarthel. I fear that having too many soldiers in the room would intimidate the Lord, and too few will suggest that we do not have the numbers necessary to go through with our plans."

Aly drew in a breath and prayed. Please, please let her be the one selected to be his personal guard, please let her be one of the soldiers to receive this honor...

"I have decided that two soldiers and a...display item should be quite sufficient, and I have chosen you two to accompany me."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Thank you sir," Rupert said, attempting to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yes, thank you," whispered Aly breathlessly, unable to believe her good fortune.

"You are to meet me in here when we land, understood?"

Aly nodded. The Lord General stood and sauntered over to them. He looked into Rupert's eyes and, though Rupert would still not return his gaze, he nodded in approval. Then he moved on to Aly.

She looked up, and this time what she saw frightened her. Those eyes, one blue, one green, they seemed to be burning. His forehead creased in a frown and he looked away.

"Rupert, you may go now, but I would like Albert to stay here for a while."

Rupert looked as though leaving was the last thing that he wanted to do, but after throwing Aly another worried look, he turned and left.

The Lord General waited for the click of the latch, then turned and walked back to his desk. He rearranged some papers, an action that Aly knew was just to stall for time.

Without looking up at her he said, "Do you know my full story Albert? Everything that has happened to me in my life?"

Aly nodded. On her very first day in camp an officer had come around to explain why they were about to go deal with the Elves, Fairies, Dwarves, and humans in Lavardia. She had heard the soldiers telling pieces of Madoc's story before and after, but much of it might have been rumor.

The Lord General laughed a little, a pained laugh to cover whatever it was he was feeling.

"In that case I am sure you understand my views on having women in the army."

Aly's heart began to race. Dear Earth, no!

"I have noticed you...as I'm sure you knew I would." He turned toward her. "Remove your helmet!"

With slow and trembling hands, Aly unfastened the clasps around the edges of the helmet and pulled it off. The Lord General would be furious, she knew he would have her hung on deck and have her body thrown overboard. Oh, what had she done?

But he did not yell at her. Instead, all the blood drained from his face and he stepped back. His hands began to tremble, so he clasped them together to hold them still.

What was wrong with him? Aly knew she looked a little odd with all her hair shaved off and her dark skin. All native Africans had dark skin, which surprised outsiders but bothered no one. Why would he not stop shaking? Sure, she had one scar on her cheek, but it was small, hardly noticeable from a distance. Why would he not stop?

"Sir? Is something wrong?"

"NO!" he roared. He ran at her and punched her. Aly was so surprised that she did not react in time, and fell back against the cabin wall. "HOW DID YOU LIVE?" he cried. The Lord General stared at her, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"No," he whispered at last. "You're from Africa, and you're too young. She's dead, dead. She must be."

He shrank away from her, muttering to himself. He retreated to his desk where he sat down and laid his head on the table. Aly stared at him in shock, then she came to her senses and knew that she had to get out of the cabin before he attacked her again. She used her hands to crawl back towards the wall, then stood up and tried to slide toward the door, but one of the floorboards creaked under her weight.

The Lord General shot out of his chair, pulled a dagger out of its hiding spot on his desk and began moving toward her.

"Get out!"

Aly stumbled sideways and groped for the door handle.

"GET OUT!"

The Lord General threw his knife and it stuck in the wall a foot from her head. Aly's fingertips touched the wooden handle, she threw open the door, ran out, and slammed it shut behind her. She pulled on her helmet and raced back to the hatch that led to the bunks. The Lord General Madoc was mad!

She slipped going down the ladder and landed with a loud thud on the first lower deck. She stood, stumbled back to her bunk and jumped up.

Rupert leaned across the space between the beds and demanded that she tell him what had happened. After taking a few deep breaths, she whispered a hurried explanation. Rupert groaned.

"Al, why did you do this? Why did you have to stay in the army?"

She said nothing, lost in thought. At last she said, "I'm going to meet him in his cabin tomorrow liked he asked me to."

"Of all the things to even think about doing when your life is on the line."

"If I don't go, he'll be even angrier than he is already."

"Don't do it, please don't do it. I don't want you to die."

"I don't think I have much of a choice at this point."

Rupert stared at her for a moment, his eyes betraying his fear, then he turned away and would not say another word.

Description
Alyson

"MOVE OUT! MOVE OUT!"

The crier ran through the camp yelling the order at the top of his lungs. Aly's eyes flew open, she threw off her blanket and without so much as a yawn or a stretch, she began to dress.

Her fingers flew over the fastenings of her tall-grass yellow uniform before she reached for her camouflaged armor. The men around her were just staggering to their feet by the time she began to roll up her sleeping equipment. Just as she straightened up and checked that her helmet covered most of her face, the flaps of the tent flew open and in strode the Lord General Madoc, right on time as usual.

The Lord General's mismatched eyes flashed with anger as the men tried to pick up their pace. Just two people in the tent of twenty had been ready to move in under three minutes – Aly and her friend, Rupert. As the slower men finished preparing for the days' march and lined up, Aly smiled with pride behind her helmet. They had done it again. They had proven that the training they had received at the Military Academy of the Land of Africa was far superior to the academies of the other Lands. They were the best of the best.

Once the motion in the tent had ceased, the Lord General strolled between the neat lines of soldiers in the tent. "This tent is the abomination of the camp," he said as though discussing a flock of sheep. "Most of you are lazy slugs, unorganized and unrefined. There are just two exceptions."

He stopped in front of Rupert and looked into his eyes. Like most people, Rupert did not return his stare, but instead focused on the Lord General's nose. The Lord General moved on to Aly. She looked up.

They held each other's gaze for a full minute. Aly was the only person in the camp capable of looking at those strange blue and green eyes without getting fidgety or looking away. It was a form of defiance, he could punish her for it, but that was not what frightened her.

"Hmmm..."

That was his sign. They looked away at the same time and Aly breathed in relief. She did not think that he had noticed but he had sounded displeased when he gave the signal. It may just have been her defiance annoying him at last, or it might have been that he had noticed that she was a woman.

On the very first day at the encampment, Lord General Madoc had announced that according to his father's principles, no women would fight in this war to end all wars. All the women soldiers were enraged but the women from Africa made the biggest fuss.

Every soldier in the National African Army had to graduate from the Military Academy of the Land of Africa. A quarter of everyone who sent in a Plea (the nickname for the application essay the students were required to write) came in for a trial week. Half would fall out or be removed before the week was done and half of the remaining number would make it to the end of their training. Once they had graduated, a quarter of the soldiers made it into the National Army. None of the women wanted to throw away such an achievement.

Many women left: it was their last order and they would obey it with dignity. However, some women, especially those from Africa, shaved off their thin layer of hair and stayed on, disguised as men. They knew that their fellow soldiers were too close to each other to report them.

Just a few days later, the women realized how determined the Lord General Madoc was to keep women out of his army. He had inspected every soldier in the camp himself and sorted out all but six of the disguised soldiers. Those caught were executed the next day by hanging.

Several of the women requested that Aly, under the name of Albert, jump off the platform while hanging onto them to make sure that their necks broke. The Lord General granted their requests and issued Aly the worst order she had ever received. How many times had she embraced her friends one last time, jumped of the platform and heard the horrible crack as their necks snapped? The memory made her shudder.

But there was no time to dwell on the past. Today they would cross to Lavardia, where they would camp in the human city before they moved on to…something. No one knew the specifics of what the army was going to do yet. The Lord General would tell them once they had landed and occupied the city of Yarthel.

The Lord General ducked out of the tent, and the soldiers set about doing their daily chore. Half of the group tore down the tent while the other half went to fetch the breakfast rations and other supplies. Aly and Rupert were on water duty. They pushed their way out of the encampment and headed toward the well on the outskirts of the nearby village.

When they had reached the safety and quiet in the shadow of the first few houses, Rupert leaned over and whispered to her.

"Do you think he knows?"

"I don't know. It seems like he does, but he hasn't punished me yet."

Rupert gazed at her for a moment, his eyes clouded with worry, reminding Aly of the first time they had met. Once when she was six, she had danced around the edge of the village well when he came to fetch water for his family. He had given her the same worried look and begged her to come away form the dark pit. She stuck out her tongue at him and continued dancing, only to fall in a split second later. After returning to the village for help, Rupert had been the one to offer her his hand – whether he had the strength or not – to lift her the last few feet out of the well. They had been inseparable ever since.

"Al," he said, using his nickname for her. "Please don't look at him again like that. You're my best friend...I don't want to have to jump off the platform with you."

Rupert removed the wooden cover of the well while Aly tied the rope to the first bucket's handle. She threw the bucket into the darkness and waited a few seconds after she heard the smack of wood on water before she began to haul it up.

"I feel as though I have to look in his eyes. No one else can, and maybe I shouldn't, but I feel that if I avoided his eyes then he would get angry, and maybe he would do something worse than just hanging."

"What's worse than hanging?"

Aly said nothing. They both knew that there were worse things, things that they did not want to think about, things that the Elves and such were rumored to have done to the humans when they destroyed Domicallia. Aly filled the next bucket and she and Rupert hurried back to camp.

Their tent-mates filled their flasks with water and someone handed Aly her ration of bread for breakfast. She stuffed it in her mouth as she took her place in the long, straight marching lines. In just a few minutes, a horn sounded and the lines began to move.

The sky was clouding over, providing relief from the usual heat but promising rain, maybe even a storm in the near future. It made no difference to Aly whether it poured rain or Sun shone with all his might. She had learned to march, camp, and fight in all possible conditions that Earth might deal out.

The march to Zalnina was around an hour long but the trip through the city was another matter. Hundreds of people lined the narrow roads, admiring the finest troops in the world, sent by their queens and kings to aid the Lord General Madoc in his fight against the foul creatures that had slaughtered so many men without mercy. Thousands of soldiers marched through the streets, more than had been seen since the Great War, the armor of their Lands mixed but somehow perfect together. They marched down to the docks where hundreds of boats waited to carry this massive army over to Lavardia.

Aly's group was near the front of the line. She waited as first three, six, then nine ships filled to their limit with soldiers before it was her turn. She had the strangest feeling as she stepped onto the wooden gangplank that she would never set foot on Galard or any other Land's soil again. She almost paused for one last glance at the place that she had lived and traveled on for over a month, but remembered herself in time and hurried aboard.

The crew made sure that all of the soldiers ended up in the special cabins that they had arranged at the last minute. There were two cabins for the soldiers, wide spaces that took up whole decks of the ship with as many triple-layer beds as would fit crammed into the hold. There were only a few pathways between the beds, most no more than three feet wide. Aly found a bunk across from Rupert, threw her sack on it, and stood at attention.

The sounds of tramping feet on deck died down and the sounds of the crew replaced them as they ran around, hurrying to get the ship underway. Water sloshed against the hull and several soldiers who were unaccustomed to water travel grabbed for bedposts to steady themselves.

Once they had left Zalnina Harbor, one of the Lord General's handpicked officers climbed below deck to give them their orders. He attempted to stroll down the narrow aisles between the beds with an air of self-importance, but it was clear that he was getting seasick.

"Right, your orders," he swallowed and stumbled over to the nearest bedpost to steady himself. After several deep breaths, he straightened up and started again.

"When we land in Lavardia we will be in the human city of Yarthel. The humans there are said to have assisted in the destruction of Domicallia about three years ago, so we must surround and occupy the city quickly so that no one can run off to warn the Elves."

The officer clamped his mouth shut and turned away. A few of the soldiers fought to hide amused smiles. No one else was getting seasick, not even the ones who had been on just one other boat in their lives to get to Galard. The officer turned around, now looking very pale indeed, and continued, shuffling toward the exit as he spoke.

"When we arrive, this group will head to the city gates. No one is to be allowed out and everyone trying to get in should be-"

He held his hand over his mouth for a full minute before he could continue, then he said, "Should be captured and questioned," and made a mad dash for the ladder that led to the deck. The tension in the hold melted away as the soldiers whooped and cheered, and a few minutes later, the captain came down to tell them to get some rest.

The soldiers settled down on their bunks, waiting for the boat to land so that they could go about their business. This would be the first war in over a century and the first of many battles for most of the soldiers. Aly glanced over at Rupert to see if he was asleep yet. He grinned and rolled his eyes. Where would she be without her friend to keep her spirits up? She closed her eyes and let the gentle swaying of the ship lull her into a restless sleep.

"Anyone down here by the names of Albert or Rupert of the hundred fifty-seventh from Africa?"

Aly forced herself to open her eyes and sat up. She hit her head on the bottom of the bunk above her and swore.

"Shall I take that as a yes?" called the cabin boy.

"Yes," she answered, pitching her voice to a lower tone than usual.

"You're wanted in the captain's quarters."

Aly reached over and punched Rupert. He groaned and rolled over on his back.

"Are we there already?"

"No, the captain wants to see us."

"Oh."

First Aly then Rupert jumped down from their bunks and made their way over to the young boy at the foot of the ladder. He led them up and out into the cool night air where the wind was picking up for the storm ahead, and across the deck to the captain's quarters where he left them at the door. Rupert knocked and a voice inside called them in.

The room was dark, lit by a single lamp sitting on a desk built into the wall. At the desk sat the Lord General himself, taking notes about the features of a map of Yarthel. Aly and Rupert bowed in turn, but he showed no sign of noticing them. Minutes crept by and he said nothing, then, without glancing up, he spoke.

"You are Albert and Rupert of the hundred fifty-seventh division of the army sent by Africa, are you not?"

"Yes sir," Rupert murmured

"Very good."

The Lord General threw down his quill and turned in his chair to look at them.

"As you have doubtless noticed, the soldiers from Africa are by far the best. I would rather have a hundred African soldiers than a thousand Selmerians, however, beggars can't be choosers, and I am grateful for all those I have."

He stood up and walked towards them, looking them over like horses for sale.

"When we land in Yarthel, the soldiers on the ships ahead of us will have located all of the gates in and out of the city and set up temporary barriers in front of them. With luck, they will also have pushed everyone off the streets. The soldiers on this ship will then set up a better guard at the gates and others will patrol the edge of the city and the forest to make sure that no one escapes. A group of soldiers who I have selected myself will block all entrances and exits to the Lord of Yarthel's house, then I shall go in, establish a temporary base, and have a little chat with the Lord of Yarthel. I fear that having too many soldiers in the room would intimidate the Lord, and too few will suggest that we do not have the numbers necessary to go through with our plans."

Aly drew in a breath and prayed. Please, please let her be the one selected to be his personal guard, please let her be one of the soldiers to receive this honor...

"I have decided that two soldiers and a...display item should be quite sufficient, and I have chosen you two to accompany me."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Thank you sir," Rupert said, attempting to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yes, thank you," whispered Aly breathlessly, unable to believe her good fortune.

"You are to meet me in here when we land, understood?"

Aly nodded. The Lord General stood and sauntered over to them. He looked into Rupert's eyes and, though Rupert would still not return his gaze, he nodded in approval. Then he moved on to Aly.

She looked up, and this time what she saw frightened her. Those eyes, one blue, one green, they seemed to be burning. His forehead creased in a frown and he looked away.

"Rupert, you may go now, but I would like Albert to stay here for a while."

Rupert looked as though leaving was the last thing that he wanted to do, but after throwing Aly another worried look, he turned and left.

The Lord General waited for the click of the latch, then turned and walked back to his desk. He rearranged some papers, an action that Aly knew was just to stall for time.

Without looking up at her he said, "Do you know my full story Albert? Everything that has happened to me in my life?"

Aly nodded. On her very first day in camp an officer had come around to explain why they were about to go deal with the Elves, Fairies, Dwarves, and humans in Lavardia. She had heard the soldiers telling pieces of Madoc's story before and after, but much of it might have been rumor.

The Lord General laughed a little, a pained laugh to cover whatever it was he was feeling.

"In that case I am sure you understand my views on having women in the army."

Aly's heart began to race. Dear Earth, no!

"I have noticed you...as I'm sure you knew I would." He turned toward her. "Remove your helmet!"

With slow and trembling hands, Aly unfastened the clasps around the edges of the helmet and pulled it off. The Lord General would be furious, she knew he would have her hung on deck and have her body thrown overboard. Oh, what had she done?

But he did not yell at her. Instead, all the blood drained from his face and he stepped back. His hands began to tremble, so he clasped them together to hold them still.

What was wrong with him? Aly knew she looked a little odd with all her hair shaved off and her dark skin. All native Africans had dark skin, which surprised outsiders but bothered no one. Why would he not stop shaking? Sure, she had one scar on her cheek, but it was small, hardly noticeable from a distance. Why would he not stop?

"Sir? Is something wrong?"

"NO!" he roared. He ran at her and punched her. Aly was so surprised that she did not react in time, and fell back against the cabin wall. "HOW DID YOU LIVE?" he cried. The Lord General stared at her, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"No," he whispered at last. "You're from Africa, and you're too young. She's dead, dead. She must be."

He shrank away from her, muttering to himself. He retreated to his desk where he sat down and laid his head on the table. Aly stared at him in shock, then she came to her senses and knew that she had to get out of the cabin before he attacked her again. She used her hands to crawl back towards the wall, then stood up and tried to slide toward the door, but one of the floorboards creaked under her weight.

The Lord General shot out of his chair, pulled a dagger out of its hiding spot on his desk and began moving toward her.

"Get out!"

Aly stumbled sideways and groped for the door handle.

"GET OUT!"

The Lord General threw his knife and it stuck in the wall a foot from her head. Aly's fingertips touched the wooden handle, she threw open the door, ran out, and slammed it shut behind her. She pulled on her helmet and raced back to the hatch that led to the bunks. The Lord General Madoc was mad!

She slipped going down the ladder and landed with a loud thud on the first lower deck. She stood, stumbled back to her bunk and jumped up.

Rupert leaned across the space between the beds and demanded that she tell him what had happened. After taking a few deep breaths, she whispered a hurried explanation. Rupert groaned.

"Al, why did you do this? Why did you have to stay in the army?"

She said nothing, lost in thought. At last she said, "I'm going to meet him in his cabin tomorrow liked he asked me to."

"Of all the things to even think about doing when your life is on the line."

"If I don't go, he'll be even angrier than he is already."

"Don't do it, please don't do it. I don't want you to die."

"I don't think I have much of a choice at this point."

Rupert stared at her for a moment, his eyes betraying his fear, then he turned away and would not say another word.