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Chapter 53

  The group that met at the yard the next morning was smaller. Two thirds, at most. Ana could get exact numbers easily enough, but it wouldn't help. She focused on what she had, instead of what might have been.

  There were two significant bright notes.

  First, none of the dead crazies had risen as a revenant. It might only be a matter of time, but today’s rescue party wouldn’t have to deal with them, which was a serious relief. Second, not one of those who'd gotten scratched the previous day had shown any symptoms, and all but two of them were in the yard getting ready. The other two were still there, helping others with their gear. Ana had made it clear that no one was to think less of those who didn’t want to go out again. They were all volunteers; having gone out at all was a mark of pride and honor.

  She didn’t mention that most of those who stayed behind were among the ones who’d shot to miss, those who’d hesitated to strike. The group that was going out now wouldn’t feel the loss too much.

  While it didn’t compensate for the more than two dozen who were missing, they had two additions. One of the farmhands they’d rescued the day before knew how to wield an axe and had done so against the crazies as the Servemels retreated inside their walls. He’d killed, felt confident that he could do so again if he had to, and they’d quickly found him arms and armor. The other, to the great delight of Ana’s Party, was Rayni. The Huntress had joined them all for a celebratory dinner, of course. She’d told them some of what she’d been through since getting stuck behind enemy lines, as it were, and had been carefully positive to joining them for the next farm rescue before she left to reconnect with some other acquaintances — all of whom were in the militia now, and most of whom had gone to rescue the Servemels. But it hadn't been for certain that she’d feel up to leaving the safety of the outpost again so soon, and seeing her gearing up and joining the Party had been a great morale booster.

  She took Dilmik’s place. The tall woman had admitted with great embarrassment that she didn't think she could do it. Nobody had judged her for it, but Ana had silently agreed. Dil had consistently been shooting high, not hitting anything, and if she wasn't going to be contributing in a fight Ana would rather have her safe and doing her job inside the wall. The same went for anyone else who was absent. Anyone who went with them today needed to be able to fight back, not just distract the crazies.

  While the number of people going out was smaller, the level of support they received was even greater than the day before. For every one of Ana’s fighters, there were two people, militia or not, who’d come to help prepare. Or just as moral support, in the case of Mamtass the priest. As a result, everyone’s gear was in top shape. Every strap was tight, every edge sharp. Everyone was fed and watered, and despite the carnage that they’d faced the previous day, the mood was high and confident. There was nothing, Ana mused, that motivated people quite like a flawless victory.

  Except perhaps impending doom, but she hoped that they’d never see if that were true.

  “Listen up!” Ana clapped her hands. She had her “Confident commander” face on. She wasn’t sure who that was, yet. “Stasia”, maybe? It was a little close to Stacy for comfort, but they were both socially confident and outgoing, just in different ways.

  She removed her hammer-axe from her belt and held it high for all to see. “First, something personal. No one wants to tell me who exactly ran outside the wall to grab my stuff, or who cleaned it up and got the dings out of my buckler. So I’ll just thank all of you, together. I paid good money for these things, and I’d hate to lose them so soon.”

  A wave of good natured laughter went through the crowd at that. The small team of spear-wielders looked especially pleased with themselves, so they probably had something to do with Ana getting her arms back.

  “With the most important thing out of the way, that leaves the minor issue of today’s first mission. We’re relieving the Vestel farm. We’re going out the dawnward gate, and then it’s the same general plan as yesterday. Advance, shoot as many as we can, prepare the ground as they charge, then repel and clean up. You all did a hell of a job yesterday. I expect no less today. If all goes well, and if we feel up to it, we’re doing the Doren farm this afternoon. That’s three out of the five farms still standing, rescued. And we’ll get them all. Right?”

  “Right!” the crowd roared back.

  “We’re Bluesky Guild! We look after our own! Right?”

  Ana didn’t know a damn thing about the guild she was a part of other than the name, and that it wasn’t too big as guilds went, but the crowd loved it. “Right!”

  “We’re not leaving anyone! We’re breaking the siege of the farm, we’re getting everyone in there back to safety, and not one of us here will be left behind, even if things go to shit. Right?”

  “Right!”

  “Of course right! Let’s go and bring our guildmates home!”

  Her weapon held high, Ana turned and marched out of the yard into the street, continuing to the square. The crowd followed, with roars and cheers and stomping and the clamor of weapons drumming on shields.

  “Angel,” Messy said almost in her ear after catching up. She may not be going out, but she was still there, helping Ana and the rest of her Party. “That was really something.”

  Ana turned her head to face amber eyes burning in the depths of Messy’s heavy eyeliner, and a predatory grin that quickly faded. “You liked that? My speech?”

  Messy’s voice was practically a purr. “Gods-damned right I liked that.”

  “Is this you making it clear that you’re in the mood?”

  Messy laughed nervously. “Sorry. I must look like… It’s not exactly the time, is it? You’re sort of busy.”

  “Yeah. Not in the right headspace, either. Sorry. Give me a couple of hours?”

  “I can wait. As long as you need. Just… Promise not to get hurt out there? ”

  “Promise.”

  They formed up before the dawnward gate, then moved out. Just like the previous day, people climbed to the walkway to prepare rope ladders on the walls closest to the Vestel farm, in case they needed to retreat inside.

  The previous day, only Rayni and Ana had needed those ladders. This time they weren’t necessary at all. The resistance was lighter, the reaction from the forest was slower, and those who went on the mission were more confident and more effective. There were still some scrapes. One man got bit on the arm when a clump of crazies made it through the grasping swamp all at once, but the thick leather of his jacket held, and he got away with some pretty bad, but easily healed, bruises. They returned to the outpost victorious, minutes before the crazies from the forest reached them. This time the crazies slowed, then turned as soon as the gate closed.

  The mood inside was almost at a festival pitch as the rescued farmers reunited with their friends inside and heaped thanks on anyone close enough to hear.

  “Wayfarer’s blessing on you, Miss Cole,” Vestel himself said, having pushed his way through the cheering crowd to thank Ana personally. “Though I’m told you’ve no need for it. That you already have it, and’ve been chosen. Seeing you today… We’ve prayed, you can believe that we did, and when we prayed to the Wayfarer, we all knew not to lose hope. To only hold out another day or two, and we’d be safe. And you delivered on her promise. Thank you, and thank everyone who followed you out there.”

  “We’re all just glad we got to you in time. Hey, everyone!” Ana looked out across the crowd and raised her voice, and when she did, people stopped to listen. “We take care of our own! Right?”

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  “Right!” they cheered.

  “We don’t leave anyone out in the cold, and we don’t leave anyone behind! Right?”

  “Right!”

  “Of course, right!”

  Turning back to Vestel, she said, “If you want to pay it forward, and any of you can fight, we’re going back out this afternoon. The Dorens’ gate doesn’t look like it’ll hold for long. If not, take some time to recover until you find your footing.”

  “I’ll let my people know,” Vestel promised. “I won’t force anyone, mind, but I won’t hold them back if they want to join you.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyone with weapons Skills needs to report for militia duty, but everyone who’s gone out has been a volunteer.”

  Vestel left, satisfied with that. Ana chose not to tell him about her long-term plans just yet. Let them settle in first, she figured, and catch their breaths. They’d find out soon enough.

  Ana talked to the officers and anyone else who looked like they needed it. She let herself be the focus of a group prayer to the Wayfarer, which the goddess found extremely amusing, judging by the laughter echoing through Ana’s head afterward — at least the goddess apologized for laughing at her discomfort and doubled down on her promise to give any support she could. And she got herself cleaned up, and took care of her gear to have it ready for the afternoon’s mission. By the time she was done with that it was closing on midday, and people were getting hungry. Luckily the smell of food hung heavy in the air.

  The square looked like one of the church barbeques Ana’s foster father had dragged her to. With well over a hundred people involved in the mission, some of the food vendors had apparently come together and decided that they’d do their part by feeding everyone. Food was simply available, served to anyone who asked, at no cost, though plenty of coins were pressed into the cooks’ hands regardless.

  Ana ate. She talked to more people until she and Messy had both finished their meals. Then she dragged Messy off to Petra’s, locked them both in her small room, and let “Stasia” fade away. She let herself just be Anastasia again, and had a minor panic attack.

  “They all expect me to get them out of this,” she said, curled up on the narrow bed with her head in Messy’s lap.

  “I know,” Messy said calmly, stroking her hair.

  “And it’s not— I have to. I have to!” Ana’s voice broke. “I have a literal goddess in my head telling me that we’ll all die if I don’t pull this off. You, me, everybody!”

  “She wouldn’t have chosen you if she didn’t think you could do it.”

  “She chose me because I was her only fucking choice,” Ana whispered.

  Messy didn’t miss a beat. “And we were all so fucking lucky that you were.” She put her hand along Ana’s jaw and gently but firmly turned her head so they could look at each other. “You’ve done so well, Angel. In two days, you’ve turned the mood in this outpost around. Thanks to you, seventeen people are safe. And yeah, you didn’t do it alone, but it wouldn’t have happened if not for you. And you haven’t lost anyone. Nobody has even been seriously hurt — just scrapes and bruises. I know you don’t want to be a leader. I’m not saying that you have to continue being one once this is all over. But we’re so lucky to have you, for as long as you’ll have us.”

  As long as you’ll have me. Ana could read the words as clear as day in Messy’s eyes. The worry and insecurity there. The fear of not being enough, of what they had being too good to be true. Of things ending when they’d barely begun.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. “Even if I could, if there was anywhere I could go, I wouldn’t go anywhere.”

  “And that’s part of why I love you,” Messy whispered.

  Ana looked into Messy’s eyes. The elfin woman had whispered those words once before, while drifting off to sleep, but now it was out there, in the open. She tucked an errant braid back behind her girl’s ear. “You’re okay with me not being able to say that back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure? You deserve—”

  “Angel. If being your favorite dress is the most I can hope for, it’s still so much more than I ever thought that I’d have. You make me happy, and you make me feel safe. Please don’t cheapen that by saying that you should do more.”

  By the time they got back out to join the people gearing up for the afternoon’s mission, Ana was getting fully back into Stasia mode, the steady, confident commander that her troops needed. And as they approached the yard the Wayfarer’s voice whispered through her mind, giving her the last push that she needed.

  Listen to your lover, Anastasia. They are lucky to have you. Given a thousand to choose from, I still would have chosen you.

  “You’re just saying that,” Ana said under her breath, but it still made her smile.

  “Hmm?” Messy walking beside her looked at her curiously.

  “Nothing. Just an invasive goddess trying to boost my confidence.”

  “Is it working?” — Is it working? Messy and the goddess asked at the same time.

  “Yes, dammit,” Ana snorted.

  “What did she say?”

  “She—” Ana felt her cheeks heat up, just a little. Should she be masking, just a little, even with Messy?

  No, she decided. She had a person she could be completely honest with, and she liked it. Even if it was embarrassing sometimes. “All she said was that she would have chosen me, even if she had a lot of options.”

  Messy chuckled. “And that got you all flustered?”

  Ana let her silence speak for her, and got a satisfied little hum in reply.

  “What?”

  “Oh,” Messy said coyly, “I’ve just had a suspicion confirmed. That’s all.”

  “A suspicion?” Ana asked suspiciously. “What suspicion?”

  Messy took two quick steps ahead and turned, stopping Ana with a gentle pressure on her shoulders. “You, Angel, crave attention. Not—” she continued quickly, cutting off Ana’s immediate denial, “just any attention. Not fame, or to be in the center at all times. You need positive attention. You need people to see you. To care about you. Not to expect things from you, but to appreciate you and what you do.”

  Ana worked her jaw, her lips starting to form a dozen denials and arguments, but nothing came out. When Messy wrapped her arms around her, pulling Ana’s head to her shoulder, Ana stopped trying.

  “It’s okay to want people to like you for who you are, and not for what you can do for them,” Messy whispered. “Believe me, it took me long enough to understand that. Now, you have a small army to lead. And do you know what, Angel? They love you. They expect great things of you, yes, but they love you. They love you for getting them to do something, instead of just sitting around. They love you for making them part of rescuing the Servemels and the Vestels. They love you for giving them hope. And they want to show that. Please remember that when we get there, okay? They want you to save them, but they also want to give you their best.”

  Ana gave her a squeeze. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll remember that.”

  Messy was probably right about some things, Ana thought. It did feel good to be appreciated. Mr. Stamper had always made sure to let her know when he was happy with her performance, and it had felt good. Nic, too, had always thanked her when she went out of her way to accommodate him, or when she’d gotten him out of one scrape or another. It was one of the things that had made him tolerable; despite his flaws, he’d been an essentially decent guy.

  She’d loved the cheers and the way people had called her name when they’d returned with the farmers. She couldn't honestly deny that. But sooner or later someone was going to get hurt, or killed. Once they left the outpost, it was inevitable. What then? How long would that appreciation last once she’d led some of them to their deaths?

  She sighed. Tomorrow’s headaches, she told herself. Those were tomorrow’s headaches.

  Whenever Ana arrived at the yard she drew people’s attention, but usually they’d give her a nod or a friendly wave and keep doing whatever they’d been doing. This time, when she walked onto the sand, everyone there stopped talking. They put down their tools and their gear, and they stood and turned to listen.

  They looked at Ana like the sun shone out her ass. Was that appreciation? There was definitely hope in their eyes — hope and pride. Had she put those emotions there? Maybe. Did it feel good to see that hope and that pride? Definitely.

  What would happen once someone inevitably got hurt? She didn’t know. And she’d do her damndest to put that day off for as long as she could.

  “All right, you magnificent bastards!” She said it with a grin, trying to match the pride she saw in her troops with her voice. “Two down, three to go! Within the hour we’re going out the north gate to relieve the Doren farm. Tarmo, did you get that arm looked at?”

  “Yes, Chosen!” The man who’d been bitten that morning held up a bare arm, showing faint bruises and nothing else. “Didn’t go through the leather, and Mistress Touanne took a look at it.”

  “Glad to hear it. That’s the most serious injury we’ve seen so far. Let’s keep it that way, right?”

  The crowd answered immediately. “Right!”

  “We focus on not losing, right?”

  “Right!”

  “That is how we’ll win, right?”

  “Right!”

  “Of course, right! Now make any last adjustments and suit up! Move to the square when you’re ready! We form up when the yard is clear.”

  Without further ceremony Ana went to join her Party, who were all suiting up in one corner of the yard.

  “Gods, Angel,” Messy whispered in Ana’s ear as they walked the short distance. “You’re going to kill me with these speeches.”

  Ana didn’t answer, but those words, hearing the effect she had on Messy, put an undeniable pep in her step.

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