43 - In Those We Trust

  Garrick pressed his lips together in a thin line as he read the list of names Lyndon handed him. He leaned forward. The wood creaked a little under his weight. A frown touched the corners of his lips.

  “Lyndon, this list…”

  Lyndon nodded tightly. “I know.”

  The high commander in him knew Lyndon’s proposed list was probably wiser than his own, but seeing the long list of new blood names made him uncomfortable.

  “Is it because of their skill?” Lyndon probed. “If it is, rest assured I have only pulled the top performing of them for your consideration. Captain’s Creed and Roe highly recommend them. I would not leave Lady Voss without strong protection.”

  Garrick shook his head quickly. “No, it’s not that. I trust you, Lyndon. It’s just…”

  He trailed off again, staring. Lyndon’s gaze softened.

  “You don’t trust them,” he said.

  Garrick nodded reluctantly.

  It was hard to let go of his doubts, and his priorities had him in two directions. On the one hand, he wanted Amelia safe with those he trusted - the veterans of the Second Order, those he hand-picked himself. But that wasn’t reasonable. Though the ceasefire had held this long, there was no telling when it would break. They all knew it couldn’t last long. He needed everyone he trusted having each other’s backs, and if he pulled off ten of his best, he would leave the rest to fill gaps too large and leave the Second Order vulnerable.

  “Sir, will you allow me to suggest a compromise?” Lyndon said softly.

  Garrick glanced up and nodded.

  “Why don’t you take some of your veterans - your most trusted - and take them to the estate with the new bloods? They can maintain training and high standards. Give me your names, and then we’ll cut this list down to five names.”

  “Five new bloods,” Garrick murmured.

  He frowned again, rubbing his cheek as his brows twisted in consternation.

  “Fine,” he said. “But only the best. Where does the line draw?”

  He handed the list back to Lyndon, who immediately picked up a pen, dipped it in ink, and drew a line across the page.

  “That leaves us Tomas Wycliffe, Silas Edevane, Ronan Clark, Kestral Vayne, and Seraphine Vaughn.”

  “No to Lady Vaughn,” Garrick said immediately. “She does not work well with Luka. Three reports have come in alone on her nearly being bitten each time she’s approached the cell, and I daresay she would be relieved not to deal with it anymore.” He took the list and considered it again, the added, “Give me Braxley instead.”

  Lyndon’s brow raised. “Braxley? He’s the duke’s youngest son. Are we sure that’s wise?”

  Garrick took a deep breath and nodded. “I know, but he’s not much like his father from what I’ve seen. How did Fenric put it last time? ‘The Duke smiles to your face while holding the noose behind his back.’ But Roe says Ian is a good egg - knows the value of a secret and can keep his mouth shut, even around his father.”

  “Additionally, his ability to navigate politics and the social scene can help you navigate the political landscape should the need arise,” Lyndon pointed out.

  “Amelia may have that handled,” Garrick smiled knowingly. “But it will be good to have the support regardless.”

  The knight commander nodded and checked off the names in approval.

  “Alright, that just leaves your veterans. Who do you want with you?”

  Garrick thought about it. “I’d like Glennan and Halek. And of course, she’ll bring her squire.”

  Lyndon repeated the names as he wrote them down. “Glennan, Halek, Byrick…two sergeants and a squire - oh, lord, good luck with that one - but I must admit, all three of them are good with him. I can promote others temporarily until we get the whole unit back together.” He paused then frowned at the list. “You’ll need someone to head the cohort.”

  “I already have someone in mind,” Garrick said.

  “Really? I don’t know that either Glennan or Halek are ready for that kind of responsibility,” Lyndon said, glancing at the list again.

  He stopped then glanced up. Garrick could see the wheels turning as he began to put pieces together.

  “Absolutely not,” Lyndon said. “You just told me you wanted to take off Lady Vaughn because she does not get on well with Luka. You cannot put a worse candidate on that list and think it will be okay.”

  “I can and I will.”

  “It’s unwise.”

  Garrick winced. “I’m well aware of the risks.

  But Lyndon was already shaking his head again. He straightened the pages on his board more than once as he spoke, as if trying to right the smallest imperfections.

  “Forgive me if I am overstepping my bounds. I know you respect him. I know you perhaps feel a little guilty for letting him get as far as you did. However, Captain Hawthorne overstepped. He attacked a prisoner-“

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Luka,” Garrick corrected.

  “Luka, sorry - he attacked Luka without due recourse. And as of now, he currently feels nothing less than resentment towards Luka for the role he played in his brother’s death. One night with a knife and a talking-to will undo the damage done between the two of them. I understand you need strong leadership, but you can’t trust that,” Lyndon argued.

  Garrick steepled his fingers together.

  “It’s not about strong leadership,” he said. “It’s about trustworthy leadership. There is no one I trust more than Riven Hawthorne.”

  “Even after everything he’s done?” Lyndon asked softly. “In my opinion, the last person you want is him.”

  Garrick started to speak, stopped, and just smiled instead. Realizing any argument would fall deaf, he stood, walked over to the large window seat at the back of the study and pulled aside the curtain, gesturing to Lyndon.

  "Come here. Tell me what you see," he said.

  Lyndon hesitated. Then, he walked over to the window and peered outside. Down below, they could see Riven and Bran meeting each other at the gate. Riven rubbed the back of his head before handing Bran something from his pocket.

  "That's a week's pay from Riven's own purse," Garrick explained.

  Lyndon glanced up in surprise. Garrick smiled at him.

  “That’s Riven. The real Riven - someone who messes up, but acknowledges his mistakes and grows from them. He may seem prideful and smug at first glance, but Captain Hawthorne doesn’t just preach his principles. He lives by them. What’s more, he asked for the chance himself.”

  He let the curtain drop. Lyndon stood silently, considering.

  “I still think it’s unwise,” Lyndon said, but his tone wasn’t as sharp as before. He sighed and adjusted his glasses before adding Riven’s name to the list. “Luka won’t like him. He will not trust him.”

  “I don’t plan on putting the two together in the same room. Riven is there to monitor and train the others. That is what I need him for,” Garrick said, crossing back to the desk to find his stamp. “Besides,” he added, as he lined up the official roster and pressed the Second Knight Order sigil on the bottom of it, “Riven’s duties will involve organizing and creating the protections that keep Luka safe. Some consequences are worse than demotion or martial punishment.”

  Lyndon accepted the roster as it was handed over, brow raised.

  “Remind me to never cross you,” he said flatly.

  “I’ll swap him out for Roe or Creed if needs must, but let’s try it,” Garrick said.

  Lyndon straightened and sighed. “It won’t be easy. But then, what part of this has ever been easy?”

  Garrick snorted.

  A knock sounded at the door, interrupting their conversation. Squire Collin poked his head around the corner, eyes blinking.

  “H-High Commander Voss? Oh, knight commander,” he stammered nervously.

  Garrick gestured for him to come inside.

  “What is it, Byrick?” Garrick asked.

  “I, um, Lady Edain - I mean, Sergeant Glennan, sir - she, um, sh-she asked me to in-inform you that, uh-”

  Lyndon sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Collin immediately clammed up, turning red.

  “Squire Byrick,” he said, exasperated. “How many times must we go over this?”

  He stepped around the desk and began correcting posture.

  “Stand up straighter. Give your message with confidence. Stuttering on a battlefield will get people killed. Now, try again.”

  Collin straightened quickly, eyes closed as he shouted, “Sir! Lady Voss has arrived, sir!”

  Garrick winced.

  “Not so loud, squire,” he said. “Only loud enough to portray confidence.”

  “O-oh,” Collin said, shoulders slumped.

  Garrick swallowed a laugh as the vein throbbing on Lyndon’s temple.

  “Thank you, Byrick,” he said. “Inform them I’m on my way down?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” Collin said.

  Collin put a fist to his chest - upside down - before he disappeared from the doorway. Garrick thought Lyndon’s forehead would explode.

  “The one I should be questioning is him,” Lyndon mumbled. “Are you certain he’s the influence you want on the boy?”

  “I can leave him here,” Garrick offered.

  Lyndon immediately straightened and adjusted his spectacles studiously.

  “I’ll finalize the list right away,” he said, tightening his grip on the papers. “If everything goes well today, by this time tomorrow, the Second Order shall return to a fully functioning knight order and resume military duties.”

  “From your mouth to the heavens,” Garrick said.

  He stepped around his desk and reached towards the medallion’s resting place, only to find it empty. For a moment, panic set in. Then, he remembered - the medallion was back where it belonged. His hand withdrew slowly, flexing uncomfortably. It would be a while before he got used to that, it seemed.

  “Will you be coming?” Garrick asked, withdrawing his hand and looking back up at Lyndon.

  “It is the boy’s last day here,” Lyndon said. “I’ll be watching…”

  The knight commander trailed off, surprise flickering across his features. They softened shortly after and a ghost of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

  “Boy,” he repeated. “Huh. Funny - I never thought this would be a conversation regarding the Monster of Savidor before.”

  Garrick understood what he meant.

  “Does it feel wrong?” the high commander asked.

  Lyndon shook his head. “No. Not wrong. Just…different. I’m not used to it yet.”

  Silence filled the space between them as the men glanced at each other. Enough was said.

  The morning still had bite to it, but Garrick could already feel the weight of the sun on the back of his neck. It would certainly be hotter than yesterday. He heard Amelia's laugh before he saw her, light and bell-bright as she listened to one of Edain’s stories, one which he no doubt had stretched to impossible proportions. Garrick approached them with a smile, stopping and returning Edain’s salute before stepping up beside his wife and placing a hand around her waist affectionately.

  “Thank you for coming,” Garrick told Amelia.

  “Of course,” Amelia said, squeezing his hand affectionately.

  “Lady Voss, if you would please follow me, I’ll take you to the high commander’s office where you can wait comfortably,” Edain said with a smile.

  “I’d rather go see the boy if it’s all the same,” Amelia said.

  Garrick exchanged a glance with Edain. She nodded and stepped aside respectfully to let the couple talk.

  “Darling,” he said quietly, “You should go with Edain. The place he is held is not…friendly.”

  “War is not friendly, dear,” his wife replied easily.

  “But this time…”

  Amelia’s warm hand came up to touch Garrick’s cheek. Garrick sighed and leaned into it.

  “Garrick, I will come with you and I will be there to earn his trust and take him home,” she said.

  “I’m just afraid you will see something you won’t like. About me. About him. Up until recently he was a monster, and he was treated as such. And last night, he wasn’t exactly docile. Things happened. It will be safer here.”

  “I will see a man defending his country and doing his best with a monster who he managed to see as a child. And wherever you are is where I am safest.”

  He looked down at his wife admiring the determination shining in her eyes.

  “Sometimes, I love you even more than usual.”

  Her laughter was all the assurance he needed.