She waited for them to recover; Shallan managed first. “But—but—”
“You’ve earned it, both of you,” she said. “I’ve been shorthanded with the horse-archers, and that’s really where Losh belongs. The troops know you, and you’ve both been handling squads up until now with no complaints. I think you’ll do fine.”
“What about the dogs?” Geyr asked slowly, the whites of his eyes shining starkly against his dark skin. “Do I keep on running the dogs?”
“Damn bet you do,” Kero told him. “The only difference this command will make in that, is that now you and I will be the only ones deciding when to run them, and when it’s too dangerous. I know you and Losh didn’t always agree on that.”
Geyr grinned, showing the gold patterns inlaid in his front teeth. “Khala il rede he, Ishuna,” he replied, in the tongue that he alone knew. “Blessings follow and luck precede you, liege- lady. I and mine thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, with a little weary amusement. She had yet to get Geyr to understand the difference between Mercenary’s Oath and swearing fealty. Maybe in his land there were no differences. She turned to Shallan. “What have you to say, Lieutenant?”
“I—” Shallan swallowed hard and tried again, her eyes dilated wide in the lamplight. “Thank you, Captain. I accept.” She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Geyr, and Kero saw her face grow thoughtful, her expression speculative. “This isn’t an accident, is it?” she stated, rather than asked. “You picked us both because we’re she’chorne, and we’ll be able to work together without sex getting into it.”
Kero chuckled. “One reason out of many, yes,” she admitted. “And by seeing that, I think I can safely say you’re starting to think like an officer. Good.” She rolled up the map in front of her, and passed it across the table to them. Shallan took it. “This is the initial battle line for tomorrow. I want you two to study it, and come back to me if you have any changes you’d like to make. Otherwise, that is all I have to say to you for now.”
She picked up the two Lieutenant’s badges that had been hidden under the pile of papers at the side of the table. Both her new officers took them gravely, saluted her with clean precision, and took themselves out. The tent flapped closed behind them, letting in a breeze that was a little fresher, but no cooler. It’s going to be impossible to sleep tonight without some help. Kero sighed, reached once more for the wine flask, and downed the rest of the contents in a single gulp. Better risk a bit of a headache than no sleep.
She peeled herself out of her clothing before the wine could fuddle her, and left the uniform in a heap for her aide to pick up, falling onto the cot as a flush of light-headedness overtook her.
Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have a lover, she thought muzzily as she allowed sleep to take her. Between battle plans and supply lists, I’d never see him unless he disguised himself as a gods-be-damned map.
“What are you trying to do, work yourself into an early grave?” Eldan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “Or are you planning on drinking yourself there first?”
Kero matched him, glare for glare, anger and shame burning her cheeks. She knew very well she’d been hitting the wine flask a little too hard, and she didn’t like being reminded of the fact. “I don’t drink that much. Just enough to put me out for the night. And you ought to be thanking me for working this hard—it’s the enemies of your precious Valdemar I’m up against this time. “
Inside she was quaking, a cold fear clutching at her heart. She’d had her wine. She shouldn’t be having this dream. Drinking had always kept the dreams away before—
“Oh, you’re up against one faction of Karse, all right. One minor faction of Karse—and meanwhile the real power in Karse is free to—”
“What? Free to what? Nobody’s made a move in Karse since the Prophet started her power play. So what’s the big problem here?” She turned her back on him, and spoke to the vague, gray mist that always surrounded them in her dreams, hoping he wouldn’t see how her shoulders were shaking. She wasn’t sure of anything. She was terrified he’d touch her—and she wanted him to touch her, so badly, so very badly....
“You know what I think?” she said before he could form a reply. “I think the big problem is that I’m fighting for money. That just sticks in your throat, doesn’t it? And it sticks in your throat that I’m good at it, that I could probably teach your people a trick or two, that—”
A hand touched her shoulder, and the words froze in her throat. “Kero—” he said, humbly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I worry about you. You do work too hard. “
“I don’t have much of a choice, “ she reminded him tartly, without turning around. She was afraid if she did, she’d never be able to stay under control. “There are people depending on me—and you know what’s really bothering you. It’s that I do this for money.”
