Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I sleep on one of the cots like I always do, and when I wake up the next morning, the all-clear alarm—three short bursts—is blaring. That means everyone is safe and we can go out of the buildings again. I eye my calendar—today is a dragon-attack day. That means this morning, a red dragon is going to fly overhead, flame everything and attack, and then fly away again just as quickly.
But the all-clear sounds again, and I frown to myself. Is Azar trying to get everyone in this fort killed? We know the patterns here better than he does. I move to the window, fix the shutters shut again, and wait.
By the time the sun is high in the sky and the sweltering day feels like it's roasting Fort Dallas, I peek out the door. The dragons are still atop the barricade, wings folded. Calm. There was no attack this morning. As I glance outside, I see a few other people sticking their heads out and looking around. A young Hispanic boy who doesn't look old enough to drive has a militia uniform on, and his rifle is slung over his shoulder. I wave him over, and he approaches.
It's Antonio, from two streets over. His mother runs the soup kitchen that feeds the militia and last year she had a badly infected finger that I fixed up for her. I give him a friendly smile and wipe some of the sweat from my brow. "When did you join up?"
He grins at me, adjusting his military-issued cap. "Lord Azar invited all men willing to follow him to join."
Did he now? "How'd he take control?" I ask, making my tone curious instead of bitter. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Antonio tells me. "He showed up and said he had dragons, and if we wanted to be safe, we could follow him." He shrugs. "He just stepped in and took over. No one argued at all."
I eye the massive dragons perched above the ruins of the city like the world's biggest gargoyles. Kinda hard to argue with someone if they brought a bunch of dragons with them. "What do you mean, he 'has' them? Why aren't they attacking?"
Antonio grins. "Lord Azar controls them. Says they can't do anything without his permission."
"Like…pets?"
The boy shrugs again. "He says we won't have any dragon attacks while they're here protecting us. Nomads, either. We're now the safest fort out there." He straightens, clearly pleased with this. "Fort Dallas is gonna be different now."
"I see it is," I say. "Tell your mama I said hello." I lift my chin at him. "And spread the word, I'm still here. If anyone's injured or hurt, I'll take care of them. Doesn't matter who's in charge."
Antonio nods. "Azar told us to take special care of you." At my incredulous look, he continues. "You're his lady. We're to make sure you're protected first and everyone else second."
That fucking man. I smile tightly at Antonio and start opening my clinic’s windows to let a breeze in.
The next morning, when I peek out of the clinic, there are soldiers stationed in front of my doors. Hot fury flares inside of me at the sight. I bite back my anger and approach the closest one. I don't like the law. I especially don't like the law because it tends to be nothing but men with big egos who like to brandish their guns. To see them stationed outside of my clinic feels like a personal violation. Not only do I feel watched, but no one's going to come to the clinic if they feel they have to pass through a gauntlet of soldiers.
"Is there a problem?" I ask, keeping my tone sweet.
He nods at me, all mocking respect. "Lord Azar sent us to watch over his lady, that's all." He smirks at me. "He wants to make sure you're safe."
The smirk on his face tells me exactly what he thinks I'm doing with “Lord” Azar. It enrages me, but I force myself to ignore it. Railing against the person in power will get me nowhere. I have two choices—I can ignore Azar's commands; I can confront Azar. There's a third choice—I can leave the fort behind entirely, but then the people here will be abandoned and without medical aid. If anyone else knows how to tend to basic medical needs or step in as a midwife here in Fort Dallas, they sure haven't volunteered their services.
I feel obligated to stay. And that means ignoring the soldiers at my door. So I give them a quick once-over and add, "At least put away your guns so you don't scare anyone."
They just give me knowing looks, undressing me with their eyes. It doesn’t matter that I’m wearing old, patched clothing and my hair is so dry and screaming for moisture that I could probably use my braid to sweep the floor like a broom. To them I'm a woman trading herself to the lord of this place.