with stripes on his back made a run for it I would have to send men after him. The fact that I wanted to be under a roof and in a proper bed myself didn't help my mood.
Angrily I turned to the package my slave had left for me and opened it. New clothes. Smaller trousers, three pairs, and under shirts and shirts and a new jacket. All good quality. He was a good man, Meran. I smiled and thought what I might gift him with that would please him.
Rastrian was not long in coming.
“I hear your man is thinking of deserting. It better not happen, Rastrian. If it does I'll stick his head on a pole. If I can't find him I'll take two of your men by lot and stick their heads on poles. Understand this, captain. I am in command of your unit and they will be a credit to me. I am a patron of the city. If I meet a king I expect him to bow his damn head, and I won't have less from you or yours. Anyone under my authority who doesn't toe the line will have a line drawn round his bloody neck one way or another. My soldiers will be a credit to me, not an embarrassment. Deal with the problem or I will.”
“Is that all?”
“No. After you have dealt with the problem come back here and dine with me.”
He was mad but holding it well. “Is that a request?”
“No. It's an order.”
Suddenly he snorted with humor and shook his head. “Some of your commanders say that you aren't worth much, never had a command and don't know your business. That you are soft. They are about as wrong as they could be. I'll make sure my men are a credit to you, as you say.”
“Then I'll consider the problem dealt with. Focus their minds on the enemy and the booty to be had. I'll be generous if they do well by me, but by all that's holy I'll hang the damn lot of them if they make me regret not being harsher now.”
He nodded. “You have made your point, sir. I'll take care of it.”
When he was gone I stripped off my armor, picked up a book and started reading. It was hard to settle to it. The other commanders, all noble, thought I was soft; didn't know my business. Well, nothing had been proven yet. The days of hard travel had thinned my waist and shed some of the fat off me. I didn't hurt near so much as I had; my body was getting harder and more used to the pressure I was putting it under. I worried a little about my lack of experience in arms. As a boy I had trained with the others of my class, spending hours a day in exercise and lectures from military men. From twelve to seventeen that had become more serious, with weapons training, ten mile runs and horse riding and so forth. I had been fit and lean for most of that time, but I liked to drink and gamble and take what women were willing and those activities took up so much of my time that I had begun to avoid the military service that should have begun then. I hadn't held a sword in five years, or any other of the weapons I had been trained in. How would I handle the battlefield? How would I react to an enemy intent on killing me? I didn't know and the not knowing more than anything else made my belly pulse with fear. Not fear of dying, but fear of failing and fear of shame. I would put myself in the fight, hoping it was a small engagement, with good men to my right and left, and I would pray that I did not disgrace myself. Self doubt is a cancer that can eat at you if you let it. What I needed, I realized, was to get on with it. To fight an enemy and kill him and be done. Still the thought made me sick inside. I had never killed anyone and to be completely honest I really had no desire to do so. I guess some men are born bloodthirsty. The flush of youth brings anger from the desire to compete for women. I understood that any other man was a threat to the need to reproduce. To take women from other men was our nature. That is why we send our young men into the army, for that is when they are most likely to accept that way of thinking. Even if they don't recognize it in themselves, that is when they are most malleable and able to be turned into men who can kill. By avoiding that route I had lost that opportunity. I would have to do it cold and critically conscious of what I did. But I would do it. There was no turning back.
I had lost the mood for company, let myself become introspective. With a curse I got up, stuck my head outside the tent and looked around. Kerral and Pakat were seated in the entrance to the tent Kerral had used to share with Sheo, sheltered from the rain but easily close enough to hear me. They moved to stand up and I gestured them down, then on impulse crossed the distance in five long strides. They shuffled round to make room for me and without a word being spoken Kerral made a long arm and dragged a camp chair close, flipping it open and set it down between the two men.
Pakat leaned out into the rain and scooped a cup of hot tea out of a small pan hanging over the fire. He passed it to me without a word and for some damn reason I almost felt like crying.
“Hell of a thing, war.” Kerral commented, eyes fixed on the rain, elbows resting on his knees.
Pakat answered him without missing a beat. “Has its good points, though.”
“Winning.”
“Money. Women.”
“Much the same thing really.”
“True. You don't get women without money.”
“Different species.”
“Some men forget that. Think 'cause they walk upright and talk to us they are the same.”
“Who knows what they think?”
“Who cares, as long as they spread their legs regularly.”
I found myself smiling but didn't laugh. They fell silent for a moment, but just for a beat. I guessed they wanted to see if I felt like chipping in. At that moment Meran came back to my tent, glanced at me, said nothing and popped inside. Doubtless he would settle himself for the night.
“I was married once,” Kerral continued. “Older woman. Cozy. Had to divorce her in the end though. Got old, stopped being interested in my cock. No use to me after that.”
“I've got one at home. Don't see much of her though.”
I involuntarily cleared my throat and they gave a bit of silence to the night. The rain was fine. I felt a little happier.
“I was betrothed for a while.”
“Orelia,” Kerral chipped in. We had been friends, and he knew of course. I was shocked for a second. I'd forgotten that we were friends, that he had saved my life. I suddenly felt ashamed.
“Did I ever tell you that I liked Jocasta better?”
He shook his head. “No, but I would have guessed. Orelia is pretty but that's about her lot. Jocasta has a brain and likes to use it. Would have figured you'd like that.”
“You think I think too much?”
He laughed. “Only about some things, sir.” The sir was a reminder not to be too familiar.
Only about some things. I wondered if my face were an open book. People seemed to be able to read me like one. Those that could read at least.
“I need to brush up on my blade work.”
“There'll be times when we camp for a few days after we hit the war zone.”
I nodded. “That's good. Thanks for the tea.”
21
I did not go back to my tent despite the rain. I didn't want to make it seem as though I had needed their company, even though they both doubtless knew it. I had stuck my head inside my tent to warn Meran that Rastrian would be arriving to eat with me shortly, but I also wanted to be alone for a while.
I wondered in the direction of my charges. I had no plan in mind, maybe drop into the healers and see how they were, not that I expected them to be anything but fine. It occurred to me that I might want to thank them for tending the crossbowman's lashes. Seemed like a reason to do something, so I headed over that way.
The silence is what struck me first. There was something ethereal about the scene. He stood facing me, his back bowed and on his tiptoes, his mouth open in a silent scream, an arm wrapped about his throat. Next to his face was that of another man. For a second I didn't know what I was looking at, it didn't make sense. Then Sapphire eased the dying man to the ground and stood slowly upright, all the time his eyes fixed on mine. The distant light of camp-fires threw slow shadows everywhere. I had stopped walking. Stopped moving would be a