GUNPOWDER MAGNOLIA Chapter 3: To Heaven (Patreon)

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Here's the third chapter of Gunpowder Magnolia ahead of the newsletter. Hope you enjoy! Not caught up yet? Find links to previous chapters here.

Two anxious days dragged by without any sign of enemies… then three… then four.

“This hardly means we’re out of danger, Captain,” Githya said darkly. “It just means whoever saw that smoke signal has gone to his spear brothers for backup.”

“Noted,” Lanthe said. “Now—”

“We’re five days out from the body burning,” he pressed, unwilling to drop the matter. “That’s just about the time it would take for an enterprising bandit chieftain to gather support from the surrounding herdsmen. Unless Ensai gets to the Angtei border faster than any rider in history—”

“We’ll worry about an attack when it comes,” Lanthe snapped, at the end of her patience.

Tairo shifted uncomfortably and Suya, now Yansey’s fourth in command, focused pointedly on the table before him. She had never taken quite so cold a tone with one of her… well, technically, these were her officers, weren’t they? Though it still felt strange thinking of them that way.

General Chang said that strength and competence were the only things that really mattered in the military. Still, these higher ranks had always seemed like the rightful province of nobles, who had leadership in their blood. Nobility was lacking here at Lanthe’s war table. Githya Guren was the oldest of the four of them and technically the veteran of the most battles, but most of that experience had been on the wrong side of the law. Suya Deisang was a stone mason’s son from a nowhere village in the north. Tairo was the only one whose lineage afforded him a place at the table and he had happily relegated himself to secretary, quietly taking notes while the others spoke.

“You hadn’t finished your report, Second Lieutenant Githya,” Lanthe said through the palpable tension. “How long before the temporary wall is done?”

“Two hours,” Githya said, “but Captain, it won’t hold back a mounted charge.”

“It’s not supposed to…” Lanthe stopped herself, realizing that her voice had grown defensive. A commander didn’t have to explain himself if he knew what he was doing—and Lanthe was reasonably sure she did. She folded her hands on the table and met Githya’s gaze.

“Just get it done.” That was what Captain Arza or General Chang would have said in a voice that brooked no argument. But those men had decades of victories to back up their authority. Lanthe had just the one, achieved through dumb luck, Dalin’s sacrifice, and, if she was honest with herself, a lot of Githya’s help.

“Alright.” She pushed back from the table. “Stand up, Second Lieutenant.”

Githya did so—too aggressively, his chair screeching backward on the stone—and glared across the table at her. The stocky pikeman wasn’t any taller than Lanthe, but he probably weighed half again what she did in grit and muscle.

“Captain?” The word was a challenge.

Suya had gone still in anticipation, clearly ready to put his bulk between the unqualified captain and the ex-convict if they leapt onto the table to do battle for control of Yansey. Tairo was also looking anxious, though he knew Lanthe better than to think she would engage in a fistfight she couldn’t win. And Lanthe wouldn’t win an unarmed brawl with Githya—not unless she fought as ugly as he did, and she didn’t relish the thought of biting off the man’s remaining ear.

“At ease, Lord Lieutenant, Third Lieutenant,” she addressed Tairo and Suya. “Take a moment to review your numbers. Second Lieutenant Githya, walk with me.”

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