curled up on his side in their place of concealment and fell asleep. Cordelia watched him until his breathing was slow and steady, then crept out beside Vorkosigan. The Barrayaran captain had his field scope out, sweeping over the hazy green amphitheater.
'There's the shuttle. They're camped in the cache caves. See that dark streak beside the long waterfall? That's the entrance.' He lent her the scope for a closer look.
'Oh, there's somebody coming out. You can see their faces on high magnification.'
Vorkosigan took back the scope. 'Koudelka. He's all right. But the thin man with him is Darobey, one of Radnov's spies in my communications section. Remember his face—you'll need to know when to keep your head down.'
Cordelia wondered if Vorkosigan's air of enjoyment was an artifact of the stimulant, or a primitive anticipation of the clash to come. His eyes seemed to gleam as he watched, counted, and calculated.
He hissed through his teeth, sounding a bit like one of the local carnivores himself. 'There's Radnov, by God! Wouldn't I like to get my hands on him. But this time I can take the Ministry men to trial. I'd like to see them try to get one of their pets out from under a bona fide charge of mutiny. The high command and the Council of Counts will be with me this time. No, Radnov, you're going to live—and regret it.' He settled on stomach and elbows and devoured the scene.
He stiffened suddenly, and grinned. 'It's time my luck changed. There's Gottyan, armed, so he must be in charge. We're nearly home. Come on.'
They crept back to the cloaking shelter of the trees. Dubauer was not where they'd left him.
'Oh, lord,' breathed Cordelia, turning and peering into the brush in all directions. 'Which way did he go?'
'He can't have gone far,' reassured Vorkosigan, although he too looked worried. They each made a circle of a hundred meters or so through the woods. Idiot! Cordelia castigated herself furiously in her panic. You just had to go peek … They met back at the original spot without seeing any mark made by the wandering ensign.
'Look, we haven't the time to search for him now,' said Vorkosigan. 'As soon as I've regained command, I'll send a patrol out to look for him. With proper search—scopes, they could find him faster than we can.'
Cordelia thought of carnivores, cliffs, deep pools, Barrayaran patrols with twitchy trigger fingers. 'We've come so far,' she began.
'And if I don't regain command soon, neither of you will survive anyway.'
Torn, but obedient to reason, she allowed Vorkosigan to take her by the arm. Only leaning on her slightly, he picked a way down through the woods. As they neared the Barrayaran camp, he put a thick finger to his lips.
'Go as quietly as you can. I haven't come this far to be shot by one of my own pickets. Ah. Lie down here.' He placed her in a spot behind some fallen logs and knee—high vegetation overlooking a faint new path beaten through the brush.
'You're not just going to knock on the front door?'
'No.'
'Why not, if your Gottyan is all right?'
'Because there's something else wrong. I don't know why this landing party is here.' He meditated a moment, then handed her back the stunner. 'If you have to use a weapon, it had better be one you can handle. It still has a bit of charge—one or two shots. This path runs between sentry points, and sooner or later someone's going to come down it. Keep your head down until I call you.'
He loosed his knife in its sheath and took a concealed position on the other side of the path. They waited a quarter of an hour, then another. The woodland drowsed in the warm, soft, white air.
Then down the path came the sound of boots scuffing through the leaf litter. Cordelia went rigidly still, trying to peer through the weeds without raising her head. A tall form in the wonderfully effective Barrayaran camouflage fatigues resolved itself as a grey-haired officer. As he passed Vorkosigan rose from his hiding place as if resurrected.
'Korabik,' he said softly, but with genuine warmth in his voice. He stood grinning, arms folded, waiting.
Gottyan spun about, one hand drawing the nerve disruptor at his hip. After a beat, a look of surprise came over his face. 'Aral! The landing party reported the Betans had killed you,' and he stepped, not forward as Cordelia had expected from the tone of Vorkosigan's voice, but back. The disruptor was still in his hand as if he had forgotten to put it away, but gripped firmly, not dangling. Cordelia's stomach sank.
Vorkosigan looked faintly puzzled, as if disappointed by the cool, controlled reception. 'I'm glad to know you're not superstitious,' he joked.
'I should have known better than to think you dead until I'd seen you buried with a stake through your heart,' said Gottyan, sadly ironic.
'What's wrong, Korabik?' asked Vorkosigan quietly. 'You're no Minister's lickspittle.'
At these words Gottyan brought the disruptor up to undisguised aim. Vorkosigan stood very still.
'No,' he answered frankly. 'I thought the story Radnov told about you and the Betans smelled. And I was going to make damn sure it went through a board of inquiry when we got home.' He paused. 'But then—I would have been in command. After being acting captain for six months, I'd be sure to be confirmed. What do you think the chances of command are at my age? Five percent? Two? Zero?'
'They're not as bad as you think,' said Vorkosigan, still quietly. 'There are some things coming up that very few people have heard about. More ships, more openings.'
'The usual rumors,' Gottyan dismissed this.
'So you didn't believe I was dead?' probed Vorkosigan.
'I was sure you were. I took over—where did you put the sealed orders, by the way? We turned your cabin inside out looking for them.'
Vorkosigan smiled dryly and shook his head. 'I shall not increase your temptations.'
'No matter.' Gottyan's aim did not waver. 'Then day before yesterday that psychopathic idiot Bothari came to see me in my cabin. He gave me the real story of what happened at the Betans' camp. Surprised the hell out of me—I'd have thought he'd be delighted at a chance to slit your throat. So we came back here to practice ground training. I was sure you'd turn up sooner or later—I expected you before this.'
'I was delayed.' Vorkosigan shifted position slightly, away from Cordelia's line of fire toward Gottyan. 'Where's Bothari now?'
'Solitary confinement.'
Vorkosigan winced. 'That's very bad for him. I take it you didn't spread the news of my narrow escape?'
'Not even Radnov knows. He still thinks Bothari gutted you.'
'Smug, is he?'
'Smug as a cat. I'd have taken great pleasure in wiping his face at the board, if only you'd had the good grace to meet with an accident on your hike.'
Vorkosigan grimaced wryly. 'It seems to me you haven't quite made up your mind what you really want to do. May I suggest it is not too late, even now, to change course?'
'You could never overlook this,' stated Gottyan uncertainly.
'In my younger and more stiff-necked days, perhaps not. But to tell you the truth, I'm getting a little tired of slaying my enemies to teach them a lesson.' Vorkosigan raised his chin and held Gottyan's eyes. 'If you like, you can have my word. You know the worth of it.'
The disruptor trembled slightly in Gottyan's hand, as he wavered on the edge of his decision. Cordelia, barely breathing, saw water standing in his eyes. One does not weep for the living, she thought, but for the dead; in that moment, while Vorkosigan still doubted, she knew he intended to fire.
She brought her stunner up, took careful aim, and squeezed off a burst. It buzzed weakly, but it was enough to bring Gottyan, head turning at the sudden movement, to his knees. Vorkosigan pounced on the disruptor, then relieved him of his plasma arc and knocked him to the ground.
'Damn you,' croaked Gottyan, half-paralyzed. 'Haven't you ever been out-maneuvered?'
'If I had I wouldn't be here,' shrugged Vorkosigan. He subjected Gottyan to a rapid search, confiscating his knife and a number of other objects. 'Who do you have posted as pickets?'
