The War Ended Before Our Heroes Arrived

How it begins

The battlefield had been planted with beans.

Tessa Navarro stood at the ridge with the royal standard over her shoulder and looked down at neat green rows where the general's map promised an enemy encampment.

A scarecrow wore the enemy commander's helmet.

"That's new," said the young soldier beside her.

At the field's edge, a man straightened from repairing a fence. Tessa recognized the healer's coat before she recognized Tom Sen's face.

He raised one hand.

She did not raise hers.

"Where is the army?" she called.

"Mostly home. A few are helping with the mill."

"Whose mill?"

"At present, everyone seems quite invested in that question."

Tessa descended the path slowly. The soldiers behind her shifted, uncertain whether beans could conceal an ambush. Somewhere beyond the village, a hammer rang against iron. She could smell bread.

None of this appeared in the briefing.

Tom met her beside the fence. A child ran past carrying an enemy shield filled with seedlings. Tessa watched him disappear between two houses without anyone stopping him.

"You agreed to a surrender?" she asked.

"No. We agreed the bridge needed repairing before winter. The surrender became less urgent after that."

He looked older than the man she'd last seen across a field of wounded soldiers. So did she, probably. Neither of their kings had mentioned this as a possible outcome of service.

Tessa unfolded the orders inside her coat.

Advance. Secure. Restore the lawful border.

Tom read them without touching the page.

"How many behind you?"

"Three hundred by dusk. More tomorrow."

His expression changed.

From the village, a woman called that lunch was ready. She sounded irritated that anyone might allow a war to make the soup cold.

Tessa looked at the beans again.

For the first time, her orders seemed less like instructions than a threat.