was a small lie. He would have said his mother. “But there will come a day when you see your true love and you will know, as I did when I first laid eyes on Galina Odoyevtseva, that she is the person you will dedicate your life to protect. Be assured, we will not allow the filthy Uaine to take her life with that promise unfilled!”
He continued until he had spoken to every one of his men. After flamboyantly combusting twenty-one torches, Sebastian was feeling very light-headed. But he managed to finish his speech.
“Make no mistake, the task before us is daunting. But with such precious souls under our protection, how can we fail!”
He lifted up the fist that held his diamond, and was both surprised and delighted when they lifted their fists as well and cheered.
“You are dismissed,” he told them.
They all dispersed, looking far more lively than when they’d arrived, chatting with each other, asking each other more about the person they’d chosen to protect. Sebastian decided that this could be the beginning of something truly grand.
Then he swayed slightly, and Rykov caught his shoulder.
“Maybe you should lie down for a little while.”
“Good idea,” he said.
With Rykov’s help, he tottered back to headquarters and into his room. The anticipation of telling Galina about his success with his men kept him too excited to fall asleep, but Rykov brought him some broth. They had learned after many days of rigorous training that when he overexerted himself like this, the hot, salty liquid helped more than anything else.
He was just beginning to feel better and was contemplating taking a carriage to Roskosh Manor, when a young boy in uniform appeared at his door, breathless and looking a little wild-eyed.
“Captain Portinari, sir!” The boy saluted.
Sebastian sat up. “What is it?”
“Commander Vittorio requests your presence in his quarters immediately, sir.”
“I take it this is urgent?”
“It is, sir!”
“Lead the way, then.”
Sebastian followed the boy through the halls to Vittorio’s quarters. As always, he found the commander’s living quarters to be inexplicably soothing. Hunting trophies hung from the walls, along with a portrait of Empress Morante somehow looking both stern and serene. The furniture was made of a light cedar wood and stuffed soft leather that had been shipped up from Aureum. There was a curious musky, spicy smell that always seemed to linger in the air. Somehow this combination of elements lent the entire room a sense of calm masculine authority. It was no exaggeration to say that this room was the true seat of power in Izmoroz, and it was comforting to find its occupant always thoughtfully attending the needs of his people. As exciting and flashy as Sebastian’s earlier effort had been, he understood that this was what true leadership looked like.
At present, the commander sat behind his desk, frowning thoughtfully at a grimy piece of parchment marked with a messy, almost childlike script.
“Ah, Captain, come in,” he said when Sebastian arrived. “Have a seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Roloff, it’s going to be a long night, I fear,” he said to the boy. “Go get some food in the mess hall, then bring a plate back for me.”
“Yes, sir!” The boy saluted, then scampered off.
Sebastian sat down in the wooden chair in front of the commander’s desk. “Is there something I can assist with, sir?”
Vittorio placed the parchment on the desk, then steepled his hands and smiled wearily at Sebastian.
“Indeed there is, Captain…” He frowned. “Have you lost weight?”
“Me? I… don’t think so…”
“I shall speak with Rykov to make certain you are eating three square meals a day, as a young man should. And speaking of food, I suspect you were planning to enjoy supper at Roskosh Manor tonight?”
“I was, sir.”
“Sadly, I will have to deny you that chiefest of pleasures this evening. I’ve just learned that the workers of Bledney Mines have revolted.” He tapped the parchment. “The situation sounds most dire. The crew chief and boss have been taken hostage, and the miners have issued a number of demands. I need you to assemble your unit, travel to Bledney Mines, and restore order, preferably with as few casualties as possible.”
“I—I see, sir.” Sebastian had never considered that he might need to take action against his own people.
Vittorio frowned. As if reading Sebastian’s thoughts, he said, “Soldiers must not only protect the peace of our borders, Captain. We must also keep the peace within our borders. Bledney Mine is a vital resource for the imperial army. Without the ore it provides, we would