Page 2 of Rago

“I’m confused, sir,” I confessed instead. “Why is Sergeant Eerik locked up in the fencing hall? Growling away like—”

“A dragon shifter?” The Capitan’s tone gained an impatient edge. “Because he is one, that’s why.”

No shit?

I hurried to pick up my jaw from the ground.

According to the Emperor Xenedor’s last census, a mere handful of dragon shifters resided in the mainland Empire. Known as a race of islanders, they populated a few of the South Isles but mostly kept to the remote wild archipelagos under Elven or Barbarian rule.

Excitement fluttered through my stomach. Unable to think of anything to say, I settled for a sharp-witted Oh.

In the silence, I made out the scrape of claws splintering the wood to chips.

“Ĉortez, there’s no time for chit-chat.” The Captain thrust his finger towards the gate, which once again juddered, having been subjected to a powerful bang. “Commander Mehji is due from Ysêmyr any time. If he finds out we’ve got a drunk, unauthorised shifter in his true form causing havoc on the grounds, we’re fucked.”

“‘Unauthorised’?” I felt my eyebrows slide upwards, but given the Captain’s agitation, I chose not to elaborate.

“I meant to take care of Eerik’s status ages ago, but it slipped my mind!” The Captain rubbed at his stubble, shifting from foot to foot. “What? Like I don’t have enough to do with you lot going off the rails half the time! I can’t see the ceiling for the mountain of scrolls on my desk.”

Zheger wasn’t the type to twiddle his thumbs. If he’d neglected a task, his plate must’ve become too full. Alas, the matter was no small oversight. While the Imperial Forces encouraged non-humans to enlist and welcomed them amongst the ranks, their contracts were complicated legal documents that required countless checks and approvals granted at the highest level of military authority.

“Long story short, the Sergeant hasn’t been cleared,” the Captain continued. “Once the Commander sees Eerik fight—because gods merciful, that’s a sight to behold—he’ll jump for joy we’ve bagged a shifter. But for now, he’s bound to hit the roof sideways. What if he ends up giving us one of his purges?”

I shivered at the thought. Honest to gods, we hadn’t had it bad with Mehji when it came down to it. He left us to our own devices as long as training ran smoothly, the compound presented sparkling, no disturbances occurred and—most importantly—the paperwork was flawless. A stickler for formalities, health and safety regulations included, Mehji tolerated no administrative fuckups. The smallest disorder in this regard invariably drove him to declare the place a complete and utter cesspool in need of cleaning. A subsequent earth-turning inspection that would follow saved no one and nothing. Hardly surprising that the soldiers around me fidgeted, looking uneasy as hell. We all had contraband in the barracks, be it illegal hexes, charms or magically enhanced substances banned by the army. Some kept pets. Others grew various plants, guaranteed to provide fun times when dried, powdered and snorted. The prospect of Mehji losing his everlasting shit and going through the garrison with a fine-tooth comb injected panic into every soul.

I scratched the top of my head. “Is Sergeant Eerik upset about the cock-up? Is that why he’s shifted?”

“No.” The Captain considered me in a way that made me nervous. “He was off duty, drinking with his unit when he went berserk. He’s recognised his mate, they said. And kicked off over the said mate’s absence like you wouldn’t believe.”

The collar of my jacket tightened around my neck. I jerked the top button open. “That’s, err, different, sir. But what does it have to do with me?”

Even though I stared at the Capitan, I could tell that every soldier’s eyes were pinned on me. Heat spread over my cheeks and ears. I swallowed a curse.

“Take a guess, Ĉortez.” The Captain squinted at me, his face split in a grin. “Any idea who Eerik’s mate might be?”

I’d lost the ability to speak, which was a rare event in itself.

“Listen, it ain’t complicated. All you need to do is go in there and calm him the fuck down. Best get him to shift back, I’d say.”

“Course. Anything else?” I sneered, but the Captain chose to ignore my sarcasm.

“Keep him nice and quiet through the night. The Commander will be off again tomorrow to inspect the Sadaryn fortress, gods help the poor sods. Better them than us, though, am I right?” The men hummed their vigorous agreement. “Anyway, before Mehji returns on Freeday, I’ll have Eerik’s shit all straightened out. You follow?”

No. I did not follow. Not even a little.

During this exchange, the Capitan’s steely arm continued to nudge and steer me closer and closer towards the gate, until the tip of my nose nearly brushed the boards.

It’d become quiet, then. The thumping and roaring had ceased.

Zheger spotted the opportunity. “Lively now, damn it!” he called out.

My comrades-in-arms had the latch unfastened in a tick. A small crack did the job. Before I could blink, the fucking traitors expedited me over to the other side with a firm shove between my shoulder blades. The gate behind me smacked my arse when it closed.

Lovely.

For a time, I froze there as if glued to the wood, listening to the sound of my choppy breathing and watching it steam in front of me.

A gentle gust of air warmed my chest, neck and face, sending my hair every which way. I detected a whiff of fruit and spirit, distinctive enough to indicate a few good tankards’ worth of cider. Evidently, Sergeant Eerik shared my drinking tastes.