Page 13 of The Iron Hex

Perhaps this was her first test. Her heart raced and her palms sweated under her leather gloves as she stepped toward the lavishly carved table of Astra, her iron plate armor clinking as she walked.

“The Corisian delegates have not been responsive to our letters for the past year,” he said, pointing in the direction of the continent to the south, of which the map showed Corisia’s northernmost corner. “Our spies have heard rumblings that they may invade, as they deem the Iron Empire to be a false one.”

“As expected from a true power-hungry monarchy,” Rhona said under her breath.

“Precisely.” Lord General Kerrigan nodded sharply before moving his hand to the eastern corner of the map to the Osnian Empire. “The Osnians are civil with us, but have made it clear that they’re waiting to see what we do with our power in these coming years before they decide who to align with.”

“So we’re facing a war with the Corisians and have no support from the Osnians,” Rhona mused, her hand hovering over the map. She’d never touched the map before, and she so desperately wanted to.

“And to top it off,” Lord General Kerrigan spoke, breaking Rhona out of her thoughts, pointing to the north of Astra, “we’re approaching winter—and quickly at that.”

Winters were harsh in Astra, with only the southernmost areas of the country able to continue to grow grain and crops for the rest of the empire.

“How are the grain stores?” Rhona asked, marching around the table with her hands behind her back. She couldn’t be tempted to touch the map if her hands were occupied.

“Enough. But that’s not what I’m trying to plan for.”

Rhona paused, looking up at Lord General Kerrigan, who was now watching her. A pang of unease rippled through her—something about the way he’d said “enough” felt like it wasn’t the whole truth. Rhona shook her head to snap herself out of her thoughts; the lord general was trying to figure out if she could strategize, see the bigger picture. She stopped and truly looked at the map. What did the lord general see that she couldn’t?

Astra under the De Clares had been so strict about who was allowed to become a knight and who could learn battle strategy. Lowly farmer’s daughter Rhona Mayhew had not been granted the social presence to learn until she’d joined the Iron Retinue.

But under the new regime, she was a knight now, and she could figure this out. “If the Corisians invade, they’ll take our only fertile land in the winter.” It seemed so obvious once she thought about it.

“Precisely,” the lord general said, smirking.

Rhona felt her heart swell with pride. She was worthy of this rank, and maybe others.

“So, we fortify the southern border. Specifically,” she said as she pointed to the port city of Archport, “here.”

She stepped to the other side of the map as excited jittersrushed through her. “Realistically, that is their most likely place to land. The smaller towns along the southern border are helpful, but not from a ‘conquering and affecting Astra’s fishing and trade’ standpoint.”

“Mmm,” he said, hands clasped behind his back, urging Rhona to continue.

“A border force in Archport with a naval presence could work... but then the Corisians would know we are prepared. I would say that a border force in Archport would be good with cavalry supports that could mobilize naval units stationed in smaller towns for an element of surprise. Unless... we want to invade first.”

“Interesting,” was all Lord General Kerrigan said as he stepped around the table to the southernmost part of the Iron Empire’s lands. He caught Rhona’s eye for a brief moment, something in his gaze that she couldn’t quite decipher before he looked back down at the map. Rhona suddenly felt like she hadn’t been given the whole truth, again.

“Thank you, Sir Rhona. You are dismissed,” Lord General Kerrigan said without looking up. “May the iron in your blood strengthen the iron in your sword.”

“May the iron in your blood strengthen the iron in your sword,” Rhona echoed and saluted before she turned on her heel and left the room. As she walked back through the palace halls, she replayed what she had just said to the lord general in her head over and over again, making sure she had sounded intelligent enough. This could be her big break—leading the charge down to Archport to defend from the Corisians. There had been fighting since the rise of the Iron Empire, but nothing quite as significant as the rebellion. This could be her moment for glory.

But first, Rhona had a hunch about a pretty witch in the castle—and she intended to find out if Lady Heathecote was truly a seer, or if she was just an unnaturally intuitive thinker.

9

Eira

Eira slipped out of the room after she was sure Hugo was fully asleep, leaving Pennyroyal to watch over him. Not that the rabbit could do anything to alert her if he woke to find her gone, but Eira couldn’t stomach losing her in a foreign town like this. She hadn’t dared to leave until Hugo’s breathing had settled into a deep rhythm... with some help. The man needed help sleeping, it was clear to Eira from the dark circles inlaid under his eyes, so she’d gone ahead and dug through her bag to find a tiny bit of valerian root to make into a quick diffusing oil that would seep into the air and keep Hugo resting peacefully. A peaceful and lengthy sleep that would give Eira time to assess her surroundings and get her bearings without him. And just maybe he’d be less miserable when he woke up, but something told Eira he would just be angry that she defied him.

She stepped out of the inn and into the street, which was starting to fill with the townsfolk as they went about their morning routines. A strange feeling of familiarity washed over her, as if she had been here before—but no, that couldn’t be the case. All small towns looked like this one, just as Cilirien looked the same.

The smell of fresh bread dictated her direction through the town center and down a few cobbled side alleyways. She felt comforted knowing the roads all led their winding paths back to the town center eventually; she wasn’t going to get lost here.

Moments later, she turned and noticed an elderly woman stepping out of a storefront holding a baguette. A baguette so fresh from the oven it was letting off steam in the cold air. Eira stepped into the bakery and took a deep breath full of delicious scents, looking at the offerings on the walls behind the young woman who stood behind a counter, her hair and clothing coated in a thin layer of flour.

“Hi there,” the woman said to Eira before tilting her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

Eira looked away from the pastries, suddenly feeling exposed. Did she need to panic? Eira often noticed unfamiliar faces when they came into the Potions Patisserie, but... it made her feel uneasy. Could this person tell she was on day two of wearing this outfit? Or that her hair probably needed a wash instead of being pulled into a bun? Had the Iron Retinue beaten them here or spread the word somehow and told everyone what they looked like?