Chapter Text
“Violet!” signed Jesinia as she followed her down the dark path. “Violet, we’re going to get caught!”
Violet glanced at her friend. They weren’t dressed in their scribe’s robes today. Instead they wore casual clothes: black trousers and a slim white shirt for Violet, Jesinia a dark-blue blouse over a brown skirt. It was a little cold in the late-April evening chill, but they’d be inside for most of the night.
Being out of uniform was not allowed at any time in the scribe quadrant, especially for first-years like them. Fortunately, they wouldn’t get in trouble for that if they got caught. No, they instead get in trouble for the far greater transgression of leaving the quadrant without an official purpose to do so.
“Oh, come on,” signed Violet, grinning. “What are rules for if not being broken?” And what better way to break them than to go drinking in the Six Talons.”
“We’re not riders, Violet!” signed Jesinia.
Violet stopped, and looked back at her friend. “We’re not. And I’m glad we’re not.” While Violet sometimes envied Mira and the incredible things she was capable of, scribes did incredible things in their own way. Violet’s way.
“Buuut…” Violet signed.
Jesinia signed. “I know,” she signed. “I don’t want to go through life following all the rules. Just most of them.”
Violet smiled. “Good,” she signed. “I was worried you’d turned into Dain.”
That got a laugh from Jesinia as they started toward the pub. “Besides, Mira taught me all about stuff like this. All we have to do is be confident. Act like we belong, and we will.”
Ten minutes later, Violet jumped over the low wood-plank fence in the Six Talon’s back yard. She sort of landed on her feet, in the sense that her feet hit the ground first, before her shoes slipped in the mud left by the morning’s rain, and she fell face-first. In the mud. She’d been lucky none of her joints popped.
Jesinia jumped after her, also slipped, and landed on top of Violet.
“Loial’s lips!” Violet said out loud. Jesinia, of course, didn’t say anything, until they’d both picked themselves up and started moving away from the Talon.
“What was Markham doing here?” Jesinia signed hastily. They’d spotted him while in the line for a drink, and had barely managed to scramble out the back door before being spotted.
“Drinking?” suggested Violet. While first-year students weren’t allowed to leave the quadrant, there was no such restriction for full scribes.
“I know,” Jesinia signed back. “But, ugh.”
They made their way back up toward Basgiath. Not by the main road—though scribes and first-year riders were normally forbidden from leaving Basgiath, the road would be busy with healers, infantry, and upper-year riders heading into town. They’d surely be recognized.
Instead, they took this path. It was meant to access a small cluster of houses on a hill above Chantara, but it was also used by scribes and first-year riders sneaking out of the castle. Hence it has become known as the Path of the First-Years.
So when Violet heard footsteps catching up behind them, she didn’t panic. She just stepped aside to let them pass.
“Violet‽” said a familiar voice.
Violet turned, eyes going wide. “Mira?” said Violet.
Mira smiled, and they hugged. When they stepped back, Violet signed, “what are you doing here?” Violet frowned, getting a look at Mira’s face. She had a large bruise covering her left cheek, and she looked tired.
“I just got back from Montserrat,” Mira signed. “I have a week of leave—we had a battle a few days ago.”
“Oh,” signed Violet. Looking over her sister. She seemed fine—she certainly wasn’t dead. “Are you all right? Why are you here?”
Mira waved off her concern. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said. “And I was looking for you, actually.” She pursed her lips. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”
Mira led the two of them back toward Basgiath, to a cluster of old oak trees growing by the Iakobos River.
As they walked, Mira fell in beside Violet, Jesinia walking in front of them. “Do you trust Jesinia?” Mira asked in a low voice. She spoke aloud and didn’t sign.
“Yes,” said Violet, speaking in the same low voice.
“Completely?” said Mira. “What I’m here about—it’s dangerous.”
“Absolutely,” said Violet.
When they reached the river, they were alone. It was a pleasant space, though not easy to get to. In the day, the trees would’ve provided comfortable shade; as it was, they provided protection from view, while still allowing them to see anyone who might approach.
“Unless someone’s hiding up a tree or something,” Mira signed, “we should be able to speak.”
“Okay,” signed Violet, meeting Mira and Jesinia’s eyes in turn.
“Right,” signed Jesinia. “What’s this about?”
“This,” said Mira. She held out a sheaf of paper, which Jesinia took.
“This is a battle report,” Jesinia signed, flipping through the pages. She looked up. “From the recent skirmish at Montserrat.” Mira’s outpost. “We got the same report in Battle Brief.”
Every student at Basgiath was kept up-to-date on the events of the war, even the scribes. An army ran on paperwork and reports, after all, and Navarre considered the scribes just as essential to their army as the healers and infantry.
Mira nodded. “What does it say about who was in the fight?”
Jesinia frowned, looking down to find that section of the report. “Friendly, the Montserrat garrison, plus the winners of the Rider’s Quadrant squad battle, though they were immediately evacuated. 17 in total, alongside their dragons. Enemy, 8 fliers, the same number of griffins.” She looked up. “That’s what we heard in class.”
Mira nodded. “Any nearby forces?”
Jesinia shook her head. “Nope,” she signed.
“Well, none known,” Violet interjected. “There could’ve been enemy forces either unseen or unreported.”
Mira smiled, though Violet thought she saw a twinge or regret through it. “There was another dragon,” signed Mira. “Or maybe a griffin or something, I’m not sure. But something was there.” She looked Violet dead in the eye. “I saw it.”
Jesinia frowned. “Did you report it?” she signed.
“Yes,” signed Mira. “I made damned sure of it. I mean, I didn’t know what the fuck it was—griffin, dragon, some other weird thing, I couldn’t say. But I thought it had a rider. And I know for a fact it was in my report to headquarters.”
“And yet,” Mira continued, “it’s not in the battle report.”
“Hmm,’ signed Violet.”Maybe the author thought it wasn’t relevant?”
Mira gave Violet a Look.
“Yes, I know,” signed Violet. “‘No detail overlooked,’ especially when it comes to figures like total forces in the area. But Mira, scribes aren’t perfect. Stuff gets overlooked sometimes.”
Mira sighed. “I know,” she signed. “And that’s just it. Mistakes happen. But this isn’t the first time. Other riders have noticed the same things. Sightings that don’t make it into battle reports. Scouting reports that aren’t followed up on. I—I’m not saying there’s some crazy conspiracy, I’m not crazy. But important information is getting missed.
Jesinia seemed dubious, and Violet had to agree.
“All right,” signed Violet. “Well what do you want us to do about it?”
Mira looked up with a glint in her eye. “Someone’s getting the original reports. The complete ones, the ones with all these details.”
Jesinia nodded. “That would be Markham,” she signed. “He doesn’t write the battle reports himself, but they’re his responsibility. He has all the original field reports—he has to file them away in case they’re needed.”
Violet frowned. “He won’t let us see them,” she said. It was a privilege she hoped to earn someday, but she was nowhere close now. “Nor you.”
Mira met Violet’s eyes, her face dead serious. “I wasn’t planning to ask permission,” she signed.