Warlord

'Yes, yes, goodman,' Gerrin said. 'Get on with it.'

'Yis, m'lud. Out seein' t' the tobaccy wormin', me 'n muh sons an' son-in-law. 'M granson Tuk comes runnin', says there b'trouble at the house. Go there. Find thissere gun-boy-' he jerked a thumb at Trooper M'lewis 'leapin' 'n hoppin' around the front door, like. Those other two, the slavies-' the servants, being freedmen, stirred angrily but subsided at the noncom's glare '-drivin' off in a one-dog cart. With m'pigs. Gun-boy jups up an' rides off on his dog. Yis. Askin' muh wife an' daughter what happenin'. Says t'gun-boy rides up, chases 'em into t'house, sets he slavies to slaughterin' t'pigs. That done, talks m'daughter-garmless frikkin' fork-into open door, says he payin'. Grabs her tits. She kicks 'n hollers, muh wife come out, slap a ladlefull 'a hot bran on his leg. Bar t'door agin while he yellin'.'

The farmer ducked his head again. 'We's law-abidin' folk, m'lud. Pays our taxes and tithes and rent regular, goes to Church ev'r second Starday. Enters our sins at Terminal. Gun-boy there ain't no Messer t' take muh pigs 'r grab muh daughter's tits. Askin' yuh justice, m'lud.'

Gerrin blinked, kept his face straight with an effort that Raj, at least, could see. 'It seems,' he said, 'that the women were direct witnesses. Why aren't they here?'

The peasant's jaw dropped. 'Ah, t'forks, m'lud? As well bring a chicken to a law-speakin' as a fork.'

Raj raised his brows. In Descott, the women would have blown a single-armed intruder in half with a shotgun, and put up his head for the men of the family to find when they got home, and mocked them with it at every rural frolic and meeting for a year and a tenday. . Well, there was only one Descott County, more the pity; some of the other backwoods areas were almost as tough, though.

Gerrin turned to him; it was as much a test as a courtesy.

Raj crossed his arms and spoke: 'Master Sergeant, this man's service record?'

'Ten year enlistment, seven served,' da Cruz said; his voice took on more of an officer-class tone as he recited. 'Marksman, first class; watch-stander.' A good shot and literate, both accomplishments which meant extra pay. 'Gold-of-valor durin' the Stern Isle skirmishes.' The trooper's face had relaxed somewhat. 'Twice promoted corporal, twice demoted. Strikin' a superior while drunk; theft from a fellow soldier.' It fell again, and he looked at Raj out of the corner of his eyes.

Something in the expression and the man's name struck a cord in Raj's memory. 'Home parish, soldier?' Softly: 'It's a run-the-gauntlet offense to lie at a hearing, soldier.'

The man swallowed. 'Bufford parish, ser,' he said flatly.

Da Cruz smiled openly, and Gerrin put a hand before his face to muffle his snort. 'Messer Cap'n, ser!' the trooper burst out. 'That's not justice, there's a mort of honest men in Bufford parish!'

'And they stay there, we don't see 'em,' da Cruz said.

'No volunteer comments, Master Sergeant,' Raj said, remembering the old saying: an ordinary Descotter bandit will steal your sheep and rape your daughter. A Bufford parish man will sell your daughter because the price is better, and be content with raping the sheep instead.

'What's your side of the story, soldier?'

''Tis all lies and damned lies,' M'lewis said passionately; his face shone with conviction. 'Bought the food with good siller, ser, I did. Then the woman, she grabbed m' cock and dragged me towards the bushes, and cried rape when her men came home!'

'Let's see your leg, then,' Raj said. Motionless for a moment, the soldier gave the peasant a glance that made him flinch, pure feral menace. Then he bent to roll up a pantleg.

'The right leg, M'lewis: the one yer limpin' on, man. Don't waste the Captain's time.'

There was a splotched purple burn on the wiry flesh of the soldier's leg.

'Well, that settles it.' Raj nodded toward the pile of meat. 'Do you know the punishment for unauthorized plundering on Civil Government soil, Trooper M'lewis?'

'Ahh. .' A hopeful smile, with crooked tobacco-browned teeth. 'Stoppage of rum, ser?'

'Flogging.'

'Messer Captain ser, I'm a freeborn man and a Descott!'

Raj nodded. 'For which I'm commuting the offense to one month's pay, and one month's punishment drill, and one month's. . stoppage of rum.' He met the man's eyes: as well lecture a feradog on its obligation to protect the sheep. 'And be glad,' he continued slowly, 'that I don't add attempted rape and absent-without-leave in the face of the enemy. Your record says you've the makings of a good soldier, M'lewis. Don't make me hang you.'

'Ser.'

Raj looked over at the two servants. 'Have them given twenty-four with the lash and a bucket of salt water,' he said. They began to wail, struggling as the squad clubbed them down and manhandled them off to execute sentence. Raj raised an eyebrow at Gerrin, who nodded.

'We've got to get this under control,' Raj said. 'It's not just wrong, it's bad for discipline. . Master Sergeant, announce it at muster tomorrow: from now on, no private purchases except what sutlers bring in to camp. The Quartermaster is to collect whatever's needed and buy in bulk; only men designated by the Quartermaster to leave camp for purchase of forage.'

'Ser!' da Cruz saluted, stamped a heel and marched off.

'Ah, Captain.' It was Ensign Foley, looking up from the muster roll he was annotating.

'Lad?'

'The 2nd. . well, the men won't like it, that they're restricted and the 2nd aren't. I think they're, ahh, grumbling.' He flushed, looking down at the pen in his hands.

'Good thinking, lad. . Ensign,' Raj said. Gerrin put a prideful arm around the youth's shoulders. 'But we'll have to live with it; if you let men be jackals, don't expect them to fight. Looting and rape are their privileges on foreign soil, not among our own people. Otherwise we're bandits. . ' Raj grinned tiredly. 'And I'm perfectly well aware they call me Brass-Ass behind my back. When a soldier stops grumbling, worry: if he's a Descott man and he stops grumbling, watch your back. . By the way, speaking of the 2nd, I'm having Stanson over tomorrow for dinner, and I'd appreciate it if you could attend. In fact-' he coughed, embarrassed '-I'd appreciate it if I could borrow your cook, Gerrin.'

'Delighted.'

Chapter Seven

'Not bad at all,' Stanson said, leaning back in his camp chair and sipping at the wine. 'I'm surprised we don't see more of this vintage in the capital.'

'It doesn't travel well,' Staenbridge said. 'Be glad while we've got it; over the passes the wine is thick as syrup, you have to cut it with water, and they put pine sap in it.'

Silence fell again. It had not been a convivial evening, here under the outstretched flap of the 5th's command tent. For one thing Stanson had brought his mistress Merta with him. No problem, if it had been an all-men affair, but there was a married gentlewoman present, which made it something of an insult. Or simply slovenly, even for a war-camp. They had begun with pan-fried trout, easy enough now that they were getting out of the lowlands; then a main course of roasted lamb stuffed with spicy sausages on a bed of saffron rice, salads and quick-fried vegetables on the side. Staenbridge's cook had even managed to whip up a chocolate compote, which was next to a miracle under field conditions.

Raj grinned behind the mask of his face. Expected to condescend to a pack of monkeys from the wilds, eh? he thought. Staenbridge had turned out to be, of all things, a gourmet and oenophile; Kaltin Gruder and his brother talked fashions and racing dogs with the best; young Foley had an encyclopedic grasp of classical drama. . And none of them was particularly impressed by their guest's reputation as a duelist; in East Residence he might pass for a killing gentleman, but the other men around this table had been brought up to the traditions of the blood-feud. In the end, Stanson had spent most of the time talking to Suzette, who had dropped into the intricate jargon of the Palace without missing a stride. A private language of their own, filled with in-jokes and malice.

Raj held out his cup again for the server, then drank. Staenbridge winced and sipped.