Page 33 of The Iron Hex

Rhona

Muscle soreness was a sign of a successful mission, and after saving Lady Heathecote’s life the night before, Rhona had run to three other noble houses that had been set on fire to make sure the residents were also safe from the blazes burning in their homes. Now, she stood in the lord general’s office with the six other Iron Retinue knights who had led the charge the night before.

“Good morning,” Lord General Kerrigan spoke from the table covered in the map of Astra.

The six of them saluted, already in their plate armor, most of them late for their morning post because they’d been summoned for this gathering. Rhona wondered if Lord Wilmer would drunkenly fall off the precipice without her there.

“The arson on the Iron Empire’s noble houses last night was a clear and coordinated attack,” the lord general intoned, tracing his finger over the southwestern most part of the map where the Corisian Empire lay. “I have reports from our commanders that there were several people spotted running from the manors as they were set ablaze.”

The knights in the room stood in silence as they waited to hear what else the lord general had to say. Rhona had never known anyone who could enrapture people like Lord General Kerrigan could. The Iron Retinue hung on to each of his words as if they were the key to their next breaths.

“We successfully captured one of the fugitives and have placed him into our prison on-site,” he continued. “We believe he is of Corisian descent and was sent here to sow chaos in the Iron Empire.”

“How have we determined the prisoner is telling the truth?” Rhona blurted out before she could think better of it.

Every head in the room turned to look at her, and she nervously noted the lord general quaking in quiet rage as she realized she had interrupted him in front of six of his knights.

“My apologies, Lord General.” She quickly bowed and saluted again.

“It is a good question,” he said after a long pause, forcing her to sit in a salute for longer than most ever had to. “And the answer is, yes, we have utilized the witch in the dungeons to determine if the prisoner was speaking truth or not.”

Rhona felt a pang of disgust upon recalling that the Iron Empire kept one of the witches they’d used to seek out other witches in the dungeons. Part of her, small though it might be, felt like it was crueler to keep the witch alive rather than just kill her like all of her comrades had been killed. She supposed it came in useful when they needed to determine if someone was being honest, though, and in times of war, the Iron Empire needed to do what they must for the safety of Astra’s people.

“I have gathered you here today to thank you for your work and speed last night. A midnight attack was unexpected and will result in changes to how we operate and handle our duties going forward.”

“Yes, Lord General,” the six echoed in unison, Rhona quieter than usual as fear from her interruption percolated in her gut.

“We have rested on our laurels too long, the peace since the uprising lulling us into a false sense of security here at the capital. But the Iron Retinue is strong, and we overtook magic and monsters to bring this empire back to the glory it once had.”

“Yes, Lord General,” the knights echoed again.

“Your commander will notify you of changes to your posts and schedules within the next day. You are dismissed. May the iron in your blood strengthen the iron in your sword.”

“May the iron in your blood strengthen the iron in your sword,” the six echoed one final time before leaving the room sharply.

“Sir Rhona,” Lord General Kerrigan called before she shut the door. “A word.”

Rhona stepped back into the room, closing the door behind her and turning toward the lord general. Rhona felt a sharp sting as the lord general slapped her across the face. Hard. She stumbled slightly, her face hot and aching. If he’d hit her any harder, he might have broken her jaw.

Lord General Kerrigan’s hand remained suspended in the air as they locked eyes. “You dare to interrupt your lord general?” he said, slowly lowering his arm.

“Lord General, I am sorry. It was an error in judgment. I was excited to learn we’d captured one of the vigilantes.” Rhona stumbled through her words, eyes downcast.

Lord General Kerrigan grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes, pain tearing through the spot he’d just brutally hit. “We all make mistakes, and I forgive you. But do it again, and I’ll make sure you’re removed from this retinue, understand?”

“Yes, Lord General,” she said through the cage of his fingers, her jaw barely able to move so she could speak. Fear rippled through her as her face throbbed. The Iron Retinue was everything to her; she couldn’t lose it.

He tossed his hand away, pushing her back before he turned back to the table. “You’re dismissed.”

As she left the lord general’s office, Rhona caught herself rubbing her increasingly tender cheek as she headed out to the gardens for her guard duty.

“Sir Rhona,” an airy voice called to her. Rhona looked down to see Lady Maeve Heathecote, resplendent in a green dress and matching parasol, falling into step beside her.

Rhona silently slowed down, knowing that a dainty noblewoman like Lady Heathecote shouldn’t have to practically run to keep up with her.

“Lady Heathecote,” Rhona said, not looking back down to the noblewoman. If they wanted to be subtle, to keep whatever the witch had planned under wraps, she needed to treat her like anyone else.

“What happened?” she asked, pointing to Rhona’s cheek.