“But Valichi is the recruit captain, and has jurisdiction. All right, I won’t argue on that; you have the right to ask a trial if you think it’s justified. Now, who were you thinking of as witnesses?”
Stammel frowned. “I was thinking through the Council members, sir, for those with military background and experience in court. I don’t like Mayor Fontaine myself, as you probably know, but he’s honest and no fool.”
The captain nodded. “He’s said much the same about you, Stammel. I never did know what your row was about.”
“Least said, soonest mended, sir, and I don’t expect he’d say different to that, either.”
“Very well. Heribert Fontaine for one. D’you want two or three?”
“As few as may be; I still think something very odd is going on. I thought of Kolya Ministiera for the second. She was a corporal in Padug’s cohort at the siege of Cortes Cilwan.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“Fairly tall, dark—graying now, of course—she lost an arm that campaign, or she’d have made sergeant the next year. She has an orchard.”
“I suppose I’d better write a summons. Blast you, Stammel, you might have thought of all this a little earlier.”
“Sir.”
“Your recruit had better look the worse for wear in the morning. Come to that, if you go back to check on her—you were planning to, weren’t you?” Stammel nodded. “Well then, I want you to take a guard along—just to keep the chain of evidence quite clear.” The captain went on writing. Stammel stood quietly, seething over the implication of that remark. “Here—” said the captain when he had finished. “Send these over to Duke’s East tonight. We’ll see the evidence—and her testimony, if you want—before breakfast. Have troops paraded by sunrise, and we’ll get everything cleared up early on, I should think.”
“Yes, sir. I have recruit Korryn, sir, in custody; I’d like him to be examined too.”
“Very well; anything else?”
“Yes, sir, there is. I’d like to ask the captain’s permission for the quartermaster’s assistant, Maia, to check on Paksenarrion for the rest of the night. She has some knowledge of healing.”
“Do you really think it’s necessary? No—never mind: you wouldn’t be putting yourself into this position if you didn’t. Do what you think necessary. Just remember that she is a prisoner, not an honored guest. No one is to enter the cell alone, and the only mitigations to the ban must be lifesaving. I may not have the right to try her, but I can ban her.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Now take those summonses, and let me get some sleep. Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.” Stammel took a deep breath as soon as he was out of the door, loosening the knot in his shoulders. He had achieved the concessions he’d come for, more than he’d expected to get. At the foot of the stairs, he almost collided with the Duke’s steward, Venneristimon, whose dark robes blended into the shadowy hall.
“In a hurry so late, Sergeant Stammel?” asked Venneristimon.
“The captain’s request,” answered Stammel shortly. He never knew quite where he stood with Venner.
“Ah, well—then I won’t keep you. I was but going to inquire about the well-being of your recruit, the one in trouble.”
“Pretty well beaten up. But excuse me, Venner; I must go.”
“Certainly. Is it far?”
“Not so far. Sentry—my dagger, please.”
“Yes, Sergeant. Here ’tis.”
Stammel could feel Venner’s eyes following him as he clattered down the steps into the courtyard and headed for the Duke’s Gate. The guard let him out without comment, and he broke into a jog across the main court. Maia, Devlin, and Bosk were waiting for him in the duty room. He gave them a grim smile.
“We’re a little forwarder,” he began. “First of all, he’s agreed to a trial when Captain Valichi comes back: he wasn’t happy about it, but he did agree. I have summonses for Fontaine and Ministiera, as witnesses tomorrow morning. Dev, I’ll want you to ride over to Duke’s East in a few minutes with them. Maia, he’s given permission for you to check on Paks tonight, and even mitigate the ban if necessary—but don’t push it. You’ll have a guard with you, including in the cell. I’d like to know what you think of her injuries—can you tell if she was raped as well as beaten, for a start. Bosk, he wants the troops assembled before sunrise; I’m about to inform the other sergeants, but you see to it for our unit. Paks and Korryn won’t be in formation. Jens will, but be ready to take him out.”
“Do you have any idea yet what happened to Stephi?” asked Devlin.
“No. Neither does Sejek, if it comes to that. He can’t see how a recruit—any recruit—could knock Stephi about enough that he couldn’t explain himself. I still don’t know how badly Stephi is hurt.”
“Are you going to talk to Korryn?”
“Tonight? No. I couldn’t keep my hands off him.”
“Hmmph. I’ll be back in about a glass, barring accidents.” Devlin picked up the summonses and turned.
“Don’t have any tonight. Want an escort?”
“No, sir. I’ll just take the fastest horse I can find.” Devlin ducked out of the room.
“Shall I go down now?” asked Maia.
“Yes. She didn’t look too good when I was there an hour or so ago. Take some water. I gave her some, ban or no: she’d been heaving and was too dry.”
“I’ll do that. Do you need to speak to the guards for me?”
“Maybe I should.” Stammel led the way from the duty room toward the prison stairs. “Should be someone around here—ah, there you are. Forli, the captain has given permission for Maia to check the prisoner’s injuries during the night, but she’s to have someone with her in the cell. Can you see to it?”
“Certainly, sir, but I’ll have to confirm those orders with the captain in the morning—”
“That’s fine. I know it’s unusual, but it’s one of the things I went to ask him about. Do you want me to call over one of the reliefs?”
“No, Sergeant, I’ll take care of that.” The guard led Maia down the stairs toward the cells. Stammel walked out into the yard toward the other barracks.
Chapter Four
This time the noise of boots in the hall was much louder. Paksenarrion struggled to sit up as they came closer. It must be morning. Her heart began to pound. Maia had said that Stammel believed her, but Stammel’s belief was not enough, she realized. She still didn’t know if they would even listen to her side of it. The door opened. Two guards carried torches, and two came into the cell.
“Come on, now,” said the darker one. “It’s time.”
Paks made it to her feet, unsteadily, then stumbled over the bucket. The guards caught her arms to steady her. She was even stiffer than she had been the night before, and her head swam. The guards urged her out of the cell, holding her upright. With every step, the bronze chain rattled on the stone flags and dragged at her ankles. She had never imagined how hard it would be to walk with chains on. She peered toward the stairs—a long way. The guards pushed her forward. She clenched her teeth, determined not to faint. As she walked, her tunic began to pull free from her legs; she could feel blood trickling down as one of the scabs tore loose.
At the foot of the stairs, Paks swayed as she tried to look up. Her right foot would not lift enough to clear the first step. She tried the left, and made it. With the guards’ help, she hauled herself from one step to the next, but at the landing she could go no further. She broke into a cold sweat and her vision blurred.
“No sense in this,” she heard one of the guards say. “Let’s get her on up.” She was hoisted between them and carried to the top of the stairs, and then to the barracks entrance.
Although the sun had not cleared the wall, there was ample light to see the precise formations drawn up facing the messhall and infirmary. An open space larger than usual had been left in front of them. The guards turned Paks to the left, and began moving her along the left flank of the assembly. Paks tried to hold herself upright and walk properly, but she could hardly hobble along. Not an eye slid sideways to look at her; she stared straight at the
