They Sold Me to the Crippled War God, So Why Was He Standing in My Father's Barn on Two Good Legs novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Eighteen Months

Seb's POV

I had meant never to touch her.

I stood at the porch rail with the phone against my ear while the man on the other end told me again that the examiner's office would not move before the first of November.

"Not yet," I said.

"I understand.

"Hold the file."

I hung up and stood there with the night in my face.

Somewhere in the cane an owl called.

Upstairs the woman who had ridden me on my kitchen table had gone to sleep behind a door she had locked herself.

I'd heard the bolt go home.

I was glad of it, because it was proper and it was exactly what she'd said should happen.

I went inside and sat at the table and put my palm flat on the wood.

It was cool now.

I had commanded eight hundred soldiers.

I had built levees in two floods and a bridge in a war.

Nobody had told me what to do in twenty years.

Twice already I had caught myself listening for her step on the ceiling, the way a sentry listens for a bugle.

I had never listened for anyone.

Every part of me had loosened since she gave her first order, and I did not trust it.

I sat there until the gray came up the window.

I did not know what to do with myself, and that frightened me more than anything had in a long time.

Eighteen months ago I came home from the Guard with a clean medical and a handshake from a general.

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