Brian McClellan - Hope’s End

Captain Verundish contemplated killing herself.

The pistol sat in her lap, the muzzle loaded, the flint cocked and thepan primed.

It would be a simple thing to put the barrel in her mouth, angle itupward to her brain, and pull the trigger. Some poor infantryman wouldhave to clean the blood and bits of bone off the back of her tentormaybe theyd just take it down and burn it. Her body would be sent backto Adro, where

Well, why concern herself with the details? None of it would matter toher.

She wrapped her fingers around the butt of the pistol that had belongedto her grandfather, the grip worn and smooth to the touch, and she wasglad that she had so little family left behind to mourn her. Would theymourn her after she took the cowards way out?

Would Genevie remember her mother?

A letter lay on the table beside her cot. The sender was a man wholegally called himself her husband, but had no further claim to thatposition beyond the letter of the law. Verundish wanted to burn theletter and erase everything it said.

A familiar voice called out a greeting to someone else outside her tent.Verundish shoved the pistol beneath her pillow and brushed flecks ofgunpowder off her lap just as a man threw the tent flap aside.

Captain Constaire ducked inside, removing his hat with a flourish. Hewas a tall man, willow-thin with long brown hair tied back over oneshoulder and the playful eyes of a prankster. He wore thick mutton chopsthat touched the corners of his lips and his uniform hung loosely fromhis wiry frame.

He stepped over to her and bent low, kissing her on the mouth,smothering her protestations. She found herself kissing back after amoment, and far too soon Constaire pulled away, a grin on his face.Love, he said, Im just stopping by on my way to see General Tamas.

Verundish raised her eyebrows. The promotion?

I think so, Constaire said. He drew up to his full height, his headpushing up the top of her tent, and mimed as if he were throwing a capeover his arm. The next time we meet, I shall be Major Constaire.

Verundish leaned back on her cot and regarded the man. Youre a fool.

But you love me anyways.

Im not a smart woman.

He paused, as if he sensed something amiss. Verie?

She gave a slight shake of her head to warn him off asking. He ignoredher.

Whats wrong?

Nothing.

Tell me. Was it another letter? his eyes went to the envelope on thetable beside her cot. That bloody bastard! What does he want this time?Is Genevie all right?

Its nothing, Verundish said quietly. Constaire was not making thiseasy. Better if she had no lover, no one to worry over her death. Itwould make things simple. She took a deep breath and reminded herselfthat this was only a soldiers love. Eventually, the campaign would endand theyd both return home. Constaire would find a younger woman, andVerundish would go back to a cold house with a hateful husband.

Well. She wouldnt have to go back if she killed herself.

Constaire threw himself to one knee. Divorce him, he said. Marry me.Im about to be made major. We could return to Adopest and take Genevieaway from that monster.

Oh, this fool. He only twisted the knife. Youre not serious.

I am. Deadly so.

If only it were so easy. But life, as her mother had always told her,was never easy. He wants a divorce even more than I do, Verundishsaid.

Perfect! Apply for a divorce and marry me.

You know who my father is?

Constaire seemed taken aback. Hes a priest, I think you said.

Yes. Hes the priest who married us, and hed have to sign the papersto authorize my divorce.

Constaires face fell and he rocked back from his knees into a sittingposition on the floor of her tent. And he doesnt believe in divorce.Is that it?

He thinks its a sin against Kresimir. He thinks it is better I weatherthis marriage of mine, with a husband who cheats and steals and lies andthreatens to beat my daughter, than go through with a divorce.

Im sorry to say it, my love, but your father is a fool.

I know. Ive told him that to his face. Now youll be late to see thegeneral. You better go. She leaned forward and touched his knees, thenran a thumb across his cheek. Come back when youre finished and wellcelebrate.

Constaire left the tent with the spry step of a young man whose worldwas covered in gold. Verundish kept the smile on her face until he wasgone, and then let it slide away like a weathered mask.

She picked up the letter and read the last paragraph.

Your father will still not grant us a divorce. I intend to wed mymistress by the end of the year. Either ensure our divorce or killyourself. If Im not rid of you within three months I will sell the girlto a Starlish slaver.

She had no idea how much time had passed, but Verundish was stillstaring at the letter when she heard Constaires voice call her namefrom outside the tent. She stirred, and registered the distant thump ofAdran artillery as it pounded the Gurlish stronghold of Darjah. Shecould hear the clamoring of her fellow soldiers as they prepared theevening meal.

She had meant to be wearing considerably less when Constaire returned.She struggled to bring a smile to her face. It was the least she coulddo.

Wait. Something was wrong. Constaire never called her by her full name.He was the only one in the army with the gall to call her Verie. Hewas the only man in the army she would allow to do so. And she couldntremember the last time he had asked before entering her tent.

Come, she said.

Constaire lacked his normal smile, and his eyes were sightless andhaunted as he slipped inside. Verundish had seen a similar look on menwho had lost a limb to cannon fire or watched a friend gunned downbeside them.

Whats wrong? she said, tucking her own troubles into the back of hermind. Time enough to shoot herself later tonight, after Constaire hadleft.

May I sit? he asked. His eyes didnt meet hers.

Verundish remembered all of the times he had swept into her tent andtaken her in his arms, throwing them both down onto the cot in a fit oflaughter. Her concern deepened. Of course. She straightened theblankets, and as she did she slid the loaded pistol beneath her pillowto a better hiding spot under her cot.

Constaire lowered himself onto the cot beside her. She took his hand,noting the way his tender white skin contrasted so deeply with the blackroughness of her fingers. Constaire had never worked a day in his life,but Verundish did not hold it against him. It was his carefree attitudethat had attracted her in the first place.

Theyve chosen me to lead the Hopes End against Darjah, Constairesaid.

Verundishs breath caught in her throat. No. I thought you were beingconsidered for promotion!

If I survive, Ill be a major. The ghost of a smile crossed his lipsand disappeared. He bent his head forward as if to pray.

Hopes End. The leading charge against an enemys stronghold. The firstthrough the breachfacing fixed bayonets, cannons, and sorcery. Membersof the Hopes End rarely survived the first volley, let alone thecapture of the fortress itself.

Theres nothing you can do? Verundish asked.

Constaire shook his head. The order came directly from General Tamas. Ithink, his eye twitched, that he does not like that my father boughtme this commission.

General Tamas was infamous for his belief that rank should be earned,not bought. He often put nobles in a place of danger in order to testtheir mettle. His stance had benefited the commoners beneath hiscommand, and the men loved him for it. But this was going too far.Constaire would die.

Why a Hopes End? Why now?

Constaire examined his boots. Field Marshal Beravich has ordered thecity taken immediately. I cant imagine what threats he holds overGeneral Tamas head.

When will it be? Verundish asked.