unit—won’t understand if you leave him free. They know that Paks was chained under ban last night. Korryn’s under ban now—”
“Sir, he’s right,” said Stephi. “I can’t believe that I went—crazy or something—and did
“I don’t say put him under ban,” said Stammel. “He’s cooperated, we think someone may have magicked him—so don’t ban him. But—”
“I see your point,” said Sejek, frowning. “Very well. Stephi, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to spend your time in the cell. I’ll be down to check on you, and you’re not under ban.”
“That’s all right, sir. I understand. I would like—if it’s possible—to know how the girl is, and if she’s well enough later, I’d like to—to apologize—”
“We’ll see, Stephi.” Sejek nodded to the guard, and they watched as Stephi was led back to the main court. The captain sighed heavily. “I’d like to get my hands on that granny, whoever she is. Tir’s gut, but that’s a fine soldier to be dumped in such trouble. Stammel, you’ll need to see to your unit, but I’d like to talk to you later.”
“Yes, sir. Any particular time?”
“Not until after lunch, at least. It’ll take me that long to settle my men and make some kind of written report of this. When you’ve time, check with me. I may have to put you off an hour or so, but I’ll try to be ready.”
“Yes, sir.” Stammel bowed slightly, and headed for the infirmary, tailing Kolya who was disappearing through the door.
Paksenarrion lay quietly as Maia cleaned and poulticed her thighs; a large cool poultice already covered the swollen half of her face. She’d been given a mug of beef broth and a half-mug of numbwine, and felt as if she were floating a handspan above the bed. She heard the door open, and saw Maia glance up.
“Well, Kolya; do you need to see her again?”
“If she’s able. What did the surgeon say?”
“She’ll mend. Her eye’s all right. She’s had numbwine; she’ll be drowsy and drifting a bit. Eh—Paks. Come on, Paks, wake up.”
Paks swallowed and tried to speak. Not much sound came out. She tried to look at Kolya, but found she couldn’t turn her head. Kolya suddenly appeared beside the bed. Paks blinked her good eye. She had not really looked at the witness before. Now she noticed black hair streaked with gray, black eyes, dark brows angled across a tan, weathered face. She blinked again, her eyes dropping to Kolya’s broad shoulders, her arm—the sleeve of her robe covered the stump of her left arm.
“She’s awake,” said Kolya. “So—they call you Paks, eh? I’m Kolya Ministiera, one of the witnesses. We need to take your testimony on this. Can you speak?”
Paks tried again and managed a hoarse croak.
“Water might help.” Kolya turned away and reappeared with a mug. “Can you hold the mug? Good. Now drink and try again.”
Paks took a swallow or two of water, gingerly felt the inside of her mouth with her tongue, and managed to say, “I can speak now, Lady.”
Kolya snorted. “I’m no ’lady,’ child: just a pensioned-off old soldier.”
“But—didn’t he say—you are on the Council?” Paks stumbled over the words. Even after numbwine, it hurt to move her mouth.
“That’s nothing but the Duke knowing I’m the Duke’s man still. No, I farm now, and raise apples. I’m no fine lady.”
“I—I didn’t know you were a soldier,” said Paks slowly, trying not to look for the missing arm.
“Yes—I was a corporal, same as Stephi, when I lost my arm. Don’t look so solemn, child. That was just bad luck—or good luck, if you like, that I lived. And the Duke’s treated me well: a grant of land, and a seat on the Council.”
Paksenarrion thought briefly of being as Kolya was, beyond warfare, pensioned off to a farm. She shivered. “But—what do I call you, if not lady?”
“Well, if you want to be formal, you could say Councilor Ministiera, but with you full of numbwine I doubt you’d get your tongue around that. Kolya’s fine. I won’t bite.”
“Yes—Kolya.”
“Now, Sergeant Stammel gave me the outline of your story, but I still have some questions for you. Had Corporal Stephi spoken to you at any time before he entered your barracks?”
“No—in fact, I didn’t really see him before. Only out of the corner of my eye as they rode in, and then Armsmaster Siger thumped me for not paying attention.”
Kolya chuckled. “With good cause. Take it from me, you never look aside when fighting. But you didn’t see him at supper?”
“No—I was talking to Saben.”
“I see. I understand that he showed up in your barracks and said he wanted to speak to you. Then he tried to get you to bed him, and tried to force you when you refused. Is that right?”
“Yes. He tried to push me down. Then when I said some things my cousin taught me, he put his hand over my mouth and I bit him. And that’s when he got very angry—”
“He hit you first with his belt, Stammel said—”
“And I tried to get past him and away. I really did, Kolya. I wasn’t trying to hurt him, or fight, just get away.”
“All right, calm down. He’d be too much for you, I imagine.”
Paks began to tremble again. “I—I couldn’t get free—and he was hitting me, again and again. I couldn’t get my breath, and someone was holding me, so I couldn’t hit back or get away, and—it hurt so much—” Tears ran down her face. “I—I’m sorry—I don’t mean to cry—”
“That’s all right. A hard beating takes it out of you.” Even in her misery, Paks noticed that Kolya spoke as someone who knew. “You’ll be all right in a few days. Paksenarrion, have you ever bedded anyone here?”
“No.” Paks fought against the sobs.
“Have you ever bedded anyone?”
“No—I never wanted to.”
Kolya sighed. “Paks, we need to know if you were raped as well as beaten—do you know?”
Paks shook her head. “I—I don’t know what it would be like. I know it hurts, but I don’t know what kind of hurt.”
“Well, then, we’ll have to take a look. Maia will help me, and I think another swallow of numbwine won’t hurt at all. If you sleep all day, so much the better.” Kolya fetched the flask of numbwine and poured some into the mug Paks held. “Drink all of that.” Paks swallowed, almost choking on the heavy, sweet wine. In a few minutes she felt a soft wave of sleep roll up around her, and drifted away, unknowing.
A few minutes later, Kolya left the infirmary, and almost fell over Stammel who was waiting at the door. “Well?” he asked harshly.
“No,” said Kolya. “She wasn’t. They put enough bruises on her, and if they’d had another two minutes—but as it is, she wasn’t raped. That may save Stephi’s hide—or some of it.”
“It won’t save Korryn’s,” said Stammel grimly. “That was a neat catch you made, Kolya.”
“Thanks. Some things I can still do. I agree you’re well rid of that one. I wonder if we’ll ever know which of them actually did what—probably not. I presume Korryn’s will be a public event.”
“Very. That—” Stammel growled and spat. “I can’t think of a word. Filth. I should have run him out weeks ago.”
Kolya tapped his arm. “Now, Matthis Stammel, you know you aren’t that kind. You had to have a good reason. I’d better go on and report to the others. Cheer up—she’ll be all right in a few days.”
“I hope so. She’s a good one, Kolya—almost as good as who she looks like—Tamarrion—if nothing goes wrong.”
Kolya looked thoughtful. “Does she? I couldn’t tell, with all those bruises. You know you can’t protect the
