“You have both?” she asked.
“Yes, Chancellor.”
Jastanne considered this. “Stay with those who have language of beasts.”
Nitara felt her face color. She knew that this was Jastanne’s revenge, that the chancellor was looking for some way to humiliate her for what Nitara had done earlier. But the minister refused to let herself grow angry. She merely bowed and murmured, “Yes, Chancellor.”
“You think I’m punishing you.”
“If you are, I’m sure you feel you have reason.”
Jastanne grinned-it seemed she responded to everything with a smile. “You’re controlling your temper, I’ll give you that much. But you have much to learn about me. I want you to remain with the other group because I need to choose a commander from among those with language of beasts. And I choose you.”
Nitara opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Why?”
“Because I trust you. I know that you’ll give your life for the Weaver’s cause. And I sense that you’re clever enough to lead them.”
“But I’ve never-”
“None of us has, Minister. You’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, Chancellor.” She had no idea what else to say.
“Your task, and that of your unit, will be to get as close to the mounted soldiers and nobles as possible. It promises to be dangerous work. The Weaver has also told me that he’s least likely to weave those with language of beasts. In most cases, it’ll be easier to unnerve their mounts one by one.”
“Of course.”
“That said, if you face a larger force on horseback, the Weaver may have to weave your powers with his own. You’ll need to be prepared for that.”
“I’ll make certain that we are, Chancellor.”
“I don’t doubt that you will.”
Nitara had never before thought of herself as a commander, and after the chancellor walked away, she knew a moment of panic. What if the others wouldn’t follow her? What if she made some terrible blunder and all of them were killed? She nearly ran after Jastanne to ask her what to do next, but she immediately thought better of it. The chancellor had given her a gift, in spite of how Nitara had treated her earlier in the day. No doubt it wouldn’t take much to make the woman reconsider her decision.
Taking a breath, Nitara turned to face the Qirsi standing near her. They were already watching her. A few she recognized, but most were strangers.
“My name is Nitara ja Plin,” she said. “I was a minister in the court of the emperor of Braedon until the Weaver revealed himself.” She hesitated. Their expressions hadn’t changed, and she wondered if she were going about this the wrong way. “The chancellor has asked me to command this unit of the army.” Still no response. She repeated for them what Jastanne had just told her, about how they would need to get close to the mounted Eandi, and how the Weaver would likely leave them to use their powers individually.
“Do you have questions?” she asked after another silence.
Nothing.
“Perhaps I’ll take some time to speak to each of you, learn your names and where you’re from.”
Were they simple? Had they understood any of what she told them? Or did they merely resent taking orders from a young minister?
“In the meantime, make camp. Start finding wood for fires and preparing your suppers.”
That set them in motion. Given something to do, they seemed to rouse themselves from a stupor. Perhaps there was a lesson there-to succeed as a commander, one first had to give commands.
Once the fires were burning, the smell of roasting fowl and boar hanging in the still air, Nitara began to make her way through the camp. Her conversations with the Qirsi in her unit quickly convinced her that they did not in fact resent her authority. None of them had ever been warriors before, and none aspired to command. Many of them had long sympathized with the Weaver’s cause, but didn’t know how to go about joining the movement until Dusaan captured their cities. Others had joined when they did because they feared what might happen to them if they didn’t. All of them, it seemed, merely wanted someone to tell them what to do.
By the time she had spoken with all the soldiers under her command and returned to where her horse stood, chewing noisily on the moorland grasses, Nitara was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to eat something and sleep. Before she could even take a bite of the cold fowl left for her by one of the soldiers, however, she heard someone calling for her. It wasn’t until she turned and realized the man approaching her was a stranger that it occurred to her that he had been addressing her as “Commander.”
“Yes,” she said, with as much brightness in her voice as she could muster.
“The chancellors wish a word with us.”
Of course they did. She nodded. “Lead the way.”
She fell in step beside him, eyeing him briefly.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I don’t recognize you.”
“There’s no reason you should. I was an underminister in the court of Ayvencalde and was never fortunate enough to travel to the imperial city. The chancellor chose me to lead those with mists and winds. I’m Yedeg jal Senkava.”
“Nitara ja Plin.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, surprising her.
“You do?”
“You’re obviously quite important to the Weaver. He trusted you with a great deal in Ayvencalde.”
“Yes,” she said, facing forward again, her jealousy returning in a rush. “He did there.”
“I also heard that you challenged one of the chancellors today.”
She felt her face grow hot. “People are speaking of that?”
“Oh, yes. It seems you were fortunate to end up on Jastanne’s side of the army.”
“Actually,” she said, somewhat sheepishly, “it was Jastanne I challenged.”
His eyebrows went up. “Really? Can I ask what your … dispute was about?”
She closed her eyes briefly. What a fool she had been. “I’d rather not say.”
“Of course. Forgive me.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence, soon coming to a small fire on the southern edge of the Qirsi camp. Jastanne and Uestem were already there, along with Uestem’s two commanders, who turned out to be Gorlan and Rov. Both of the ministers nodded to Nitara as they made room for her and Yedeg around the fire, but neither of them spoke.
“This won’t take long,” Uestem said, regarding each of them in turn. “It’s been a long day and all of us need to rest. But the Weaver wanted us to speak with you briefly, to make certain that all went smoothly with your units.”
Nitara’s eyes flicked toward Jastanne. The chancellor was already watching her, wearing that same inscrutable smile on her lips.
“Well?” Uestem asked, after a lengthy silence.
“Commander,” Jastanne said, still watching Nitara. “Why don’t you begin? Tell us about your first night of command.”
“It was fine,” she said, meeting the chancellor’s gaze. “I was a bit hesitant at first. I’ve never commanded warriors before, and I wasn’t certain that I was going about it in the right way.”
“What do you think is the right way?”
She shrugged. “I’m still not sure. Maybe there is no right way. When I finally gave them an order, they couldn’t carry it out fast enough. I think they were just waiting for someone to tell them what to do.”
“Very good,” Jastanne said, nodding. “What about the rest of you?”
Gorlan cleared his throat. “Actually, my experience was much the same as Nitara’s.”
The others turned toward him, including Jastanne, and Nitara exhaled, relieved just to have the chancellor looking elsewhere. She gathered from what the others said that they all had been somewhat unsure of themselves at first, a point that was not lost on the chancellors.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Uestem said, when Yedeg, the last of them, had finished speaking. “Command is, above all else, a matter of confidence, of believing in your ability to lead others. If you trust in yourself, those you command will trust you as well.”