The lord governor pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then answered, “We need the guards, but we need the water more. Elder Lutran tells me the city wells are going dry. Yes, keep the guards on the aqueduct as long as possible.” He stepped back from the table and crossed his arms. “Gentlemen, you are dismissed.”
The captains filed out in a group until only Commander Durne, the harbormaster, and Captain Omat, the officer of recruits, were left in the room with the lord governor.
Lord Bight beckoned to Linsha. When she approached and saluted, he sat in his chair and eyed her quietly, that oddly knowing flicker in his deep gold eyes.
“Squire Lynn,” Commander Durne’s voice cut through the stillness like a whip. “The officer of the watch told me you left the premises of the palace without permission.”
Linsha bowed her head. Even Lynn would know when to act contrite. “I apologize, sir. I thought I was supposed to help the healer, Mica, at the temple today, and I didn’t think about the rules.”
“Start thinking about them, squire. Memorize them. Drill them into your head until you live and breathe the structure of this company. It may save the governor’s life.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered firmly.
The commander turned to the officer of recruits. “Captain Omat, I want you to clearly explain the rules governing the lives of squires to this recruit and have her memorize them while she polishes armor in the training hall. Tonight she may stand watch in the observation towers.”
Captain Omat saluted briskly. Linsha silently groaned.
Lord Bight leaned forward in his chair. “Before you go, squire, did you and Mica find anything useful in the books?”
“Just hints, your Excellency. Some herbal remedies he wanted to try. A few hints about similar illnesses. Mica is still looking.” She saw his gaze search for the gold chain around her neck and knew he was making sure she still wore — the scale. Since she had carefully hidden it under her linen shirt where it could not be seen, she caught his eye and dropped her chin in a single nod. He understood.
Captain Omat escorted her from the office and followed his orders to the letter. He took her to the training hall in plain view of many of the guards, placed her in an obvious position, and gave her a stack of breastplates to polish. For an hour, while she rubbed polish into the steel and buffed it to a silvery sheen, he read her the rules and regulations and made her memorize them. Guards in the hall would come by and order her to recite a rule or offer criticism on her work, but while this happened frequently, Linsha sensed no maliciousness in their attention, only humor and the shared knowledge that they had all been there before. Linsha didn’t mind. It was all part of the experience and a small price to pay for the information she had gained that morning.
The captain left her after an hour with orders to continue until the evening meal; after her dinner, she was to report to the Officer of the Watch-properly this time-for her sentry assignment.
Linsha returned an armload of polished armor to the armory. When she came back with more, Shanron was sitting on a stool waiting for her, her long face downcast, her arm in a sling.
“I didn’t pull my shield up fast enough,” Shanron said when she noticed the look of concern on Linsha’s face. “Thankfully, Mica came by late last night to set it.” She hefted her arm a bit and grinned ruefully. “It still aches. How’s your shoulder? I heard you had a run-in with some looters.”
“I didn’t move fast enough either. In fact, the weapons master was just here telling me exactly what I did wrong. I let him get too close.”
Shanron crooked a smile. “Who? The weapons master or the looter?”
“Both,” Linsha laughed.
They chatted for a time about the guards and polishing armor, about Shanron’s home and the character of cats.
“Have you seen a large orange tomcat in the barn with the ship’s cat?” Linsha asked at one point.
“Not one like that,” Shanron said. “There are a few gray tabbies who hang around the feed room and a black who rules the aisles, but no orange tomcat. Why?”
“I’ve seen one twice now. At night.”
“Maybe the ship’s cat is in heat.”
“I don’t think so. He stays with me.”
“I can’t help you.” Shanron lapsed into silence and stared moodily across the room.
Still bent over her polishing, Linsha lifted her eyes to watch her friend worriedly. Shanron’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her nose was turning red. Her face seemed paler than normal. “Is something wrong?” Linsha asked in a voice just above a whisper.
A tear slipped down Shanron’s cheek, only to be wiped savagely away. She seemed to be wrestling with a dilemma, for her mouth opened and closed and her eyes fastened on Linsha, then slid away before she could decide to say anything.
After a very long silence, she said quietly, “Lynn, does the word ‘chipmunk’ mean anything to you?”
Linsha felt a shock surge through her. “Small, stripy rodents?” she replied guardedly.
“Nothing else?” her friend asked in a small voice.
“It could be other things, I guess. Why do you want to know?”
Shanron sighed a long, sad breath of air and explained. “Captain Dewald was my friend, my… well, we were very close. Close enough that I was considering leaving the guards so I could marry him.”
Linsha’s mouth fell open. “Shanron, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” She wondered if Lady Annian knew.
The tall blond warrior blushed self-consciously. “No one did. We tried to be very discreet. Anyway, the day before he was murdered, he came to me very agitated, frightened even. When I asked him what was wrong, he only said, ‘I think they know.’ He wouldn’t explain what he meant. He told me if anything happened to him, I was to ask you about a chipmunk.” Her last word rose in a note of disbelief.
The whole tale sounded unreal, and yet, if there was no truth to the matter, how would Captain Dewald have known that chipmunks had any significance to her if Lady Annian hadn’t told him? She thought quickly over her options, then decided to trust in Shanron. “A dead chipmunk left on a certain windowsill is a signal that means ‘Come at once. Most secret.’ ”
A sound, somewhere between a gasp of disbelief and a laugh of incredulity, burst out of Shanron’s lips. She leaned forward, pulled a small packet out of her sling, and slipped it into Linsha’s lap. “Don’t tell me more. What I don’t know can’t be forced from me. Just take care of yourself.” She wiped her sleeve over her eyes and stood up. “I have sentry duty tonight, too, so maybe I’ll see you later.”
Linsha grinned and waved to Shannon as she sauntered away, then neatly slid the packet under her waistband. Curiosity consumed her, but she could do nothing about the packet until she was finished with the armor and could leave the hall. Impatiently she polished and buffed and hauled armor back and forth until the bell rang in the courtyard for the evening meal and she could gratefully put away the rags and the polish. She walked out of the training hall with the intention of slipping up to her room to open the packet and was intercepted by Captain Omat. The captain’s face was adamant as he led her into the dining hall and supervised her meal. She made a loud comment about baby-sitters, but he ignored her and waited for her to eat. As soon as she was finished, he escorted her to the Officer of the Watch.
“This recruit,” he told the officer, “is still learning the rules. Make sure she knows the regulations for sentry duty backward and forward.”
“Asleep fall not do,” Linsha responded promptly. The Officer of the Watch, a dour man with too many positions to fill and not enough guards, promptly sent her to the farthest observation tower in the eastern fortifications.
The blood-red sun eased below the horizon while Linsha and a squad of Governor’s Guards marched through the city to the guard camp. Darkness crept slowly out of the east to meet them. High haze and thin clouds obscured the sky, and only a slight wind stirred the dust and wood fire smoke above the city. The camp was busy with the changing of the guard and the return of the day patrols. At the easternmost end of the camp, before the squad reached the earthworks, Linsha saw a huge tent set aside as an infirmary. Here in the camp, the plague had struck hard, but sick guards were immediately quarantined, and unlike the harbor district where the Sailors’ Scourge spread out of control, the plague in the camp had remained within limits.
As ordered, Linsha reported to the northeastern tower and, with another Governor’s Guard, relieved the sentries on watch. The two City Guards showed them the signal flags, a farseeing glass, and the torches they might need.
