by Jaleta Clegg
Chapter 32
Librette rushed past, throwing herself on Chey with a squeal of joy. He tried to push her away, his face blanching.
"You aren't serious," Chey protested in Basic.
"I am very serious," I replied in the native language. "You are either going to marry her or you are going to explain, in full detail, why you can't. I'm sure her mother would love to hear it."
"But."
"You promised her, didn't you?"
"I didn't, that is not quite." He babbled in Basic. "It's just something that, you know." He wilted. "I can't stay here for life and she can't come with me."
"You should have thought of that before you promised her anything." I had no sympathy for him and too much for Librette. "Start talking, Chey."
Librette's mother beamed proudly, though her eyes betrayed worry.
The troopers grinned, chuckling over Chey's misfortune. They shifted nervously as I smiled at them.
"Does anyone else have a sweetheart in the village? Did anyone else promise anything to these innocent young girls?"
No one spoke.
"I'll just ask the girls, then. Did these men promise your daughters anything? Because if they did, they are going to keep their promises or find a way to make it even with you."
Several girls stepped forward, claiming sweethearts from the troopers. The rest of the Patrol whistled and shouted catcalls.
"Enough of that," I shouted. "Those who were smart enough not to promise anything foolish, gather the gear. We're moving out in half an hour. Those of you with girls had better start talking."
"And say what?" Chey demanded. "Clause six of paragraph four, article sixty-two, states—"
"I don't give a fig what the rules state. These people already know all about other worlds. You tell these girls the truth or I'll let them beat it out of you. With my help." I stalked to the shade of the one limp, dusty tree. The morning was hot and I wanted to leave.
"Do you know how many regulations you just broke?" Will leaned against the trunk.
I deliberately unclenched my fist. I wanted to beat the grin off his face, but I needed his help and I'd had enough violence for one day.
"I don't care." I really didn't. "Did you talk with Roland at all? These people know they aren't native to this world. They know about other worlds and other people." I waved vaguely at the sky.
"I've been tracing rumors for two years without any luck. How did you do it in less than two weeks?"
"Stupid, blind luck I guess." I closed my eyes. "I hate this planet."
He patted my shoulder and made some excuse of finding Dysun.
Boots crunched across the dusty road. I opened my eyes again. All I saw with them closed was Vunia.
"I was sent with breakfast for you, sir." Lieutenant Harlborl had tidied his uniform and washed his face. He set a tray next to the tree on the dry, dusty grass that had somehow survived. He stood stiffly, as if waiting for permission.
I sighed and motioned that he could sit.
He sat. "Beg to report that the wounded are comfortable in the inn. The men are being fed. We'll be ready to leave within the hour."
I ate the bread and cheese. He'd even found a bottle of wine. It wasn't very good, but it didn't matter. I drank it. Anything to blur the memory of Vunia's body and the smell of charred flesh.
"The men are a little upset about this marriage business," Harborl said after a moment.
"Their problem. They shouldn't be promising things they don't mean."
"It's the way soldiers are," he said earnestly. "We make promises, have a little fun, and then, move on to the next assignment. There's no harm done."
I choked on my bread. "No harm done? Did you know Librette was ready to kill herself when she thought Chey was going to be executed? It does all sorts of harm to the girls you leave behind. Did you ever think of that?"
"They're thinking of that now," another soldier said as he sprawled in the shade near me. "Sergeant Clay." He was older, his hair grizzled with gray. He wore an impressive set of bandages. "Other than the Lieutenant here, I'm the highest ranking officer still around." He picked grit from his ear.
"And what am I supposed to do about that?"
"Give me orders." Sergeant Clay grinned, showing me his teeth. "You're supposed to be a major or something, so you outrank the rest of us. What do you want us to do?"
"Invade a monastery. The monks will help. There's a man there by the name of Robin. If we can rescue him, he has enough men for the rest of it."
"What rest of it?" Harlborl asked.
"Getting Nuto and Tayvis free and putting Pardui and Leran where they belong."
"What about the noninterference clauses?" Harlborl's face pinched with disapproval. "We can't interfere in matters of planetary politics. We're here to monitor the trade in shara."
"Then you're doing a lousy job. Pardui and Leran are both smuggling it and have been for years. And I don't care about any of your clauses."
Sergeant Clay laughed.
Harlborl stared. "You aren't really Patrol, are you?" he accused me with just enough doubt in his voice that I knew he wasn't sure.
I gave him my nastiest smile. "Let's move out. We have a long march." I stood, leaving the remains of my lunch under the tree.
The villagers watched me, faces grim, as I gathered the Patrol.
"They really ought to marry before they leave," Librette's mother announced firmly. "Who's to say they'll come back and honor their promises later?"
Chey sweated buckets. He swallowed hard and gave me a pleading look as he tried to pry Librette's possessive hands free of his arm.
"Who has the authority around here?" I asked.
"The Father comes through twice a year," one of the old geezers said, leaning forward to spit a glob of snot.
"That's a problem, isn't it?" I frowned.
Chey pulled Librette's hands loose. "I have to go."
She pouted prettily.
"Captain Dace!"
Two of the Patrol carried Roland, his robe stained with blood and dirt. They dragged him into the shade, then let go. He sagged to the ground. I moved to catch him, but Will got there first.
"Get a medic and something for him to drink," I ordered.
Will set him gently under the tree. "What happened, Roland?"
Roland moaned. "There are a dozen more monks on the hill. When we saw the smoke from the castle, we feared the worst."
"I did it," I admitted. "Pardui's men had taken it. They aren't a problem anymore. The fire was a bit of an accident."
Roland wheezed. I pounded his back, concerned, until I realized he was laughing. The medic hurried over with his kit.
"What of the others?" Roland said as the medic cleaned his cuts. "Some of them are hurt badly."
"You," I pointed to a random villager. "Fetch more of the village men and go rescue the monks."
The man nodded and waved to others in the crowd.
"They are near the ridge top, on the deer trail." Roland winced as the medic scrubbed his head.
The villagers hurried away.
The Patrol waited for orders, including Chey, still trying to pry Librette's hands off his arm.
I grinned at Roland. "Can you perform marriages?"
"But, of course. Why?"
"It's for a good cause. How soon? By lunch?"
"Give him an hour to rest," the medic said.
"Two," Will said over my shoulder. "Politics, Dace. Just trust me on this."
Roland performed a simple ceremony mid-afternoon.
The villagers insisted on serving a wedding feast for the five newly married couples. Chey hardly ate. He picked at his food nervously. Sergeant Clay sat beside me during the feast. He slapped me on the back several times, congratulating me on my cleverness.
We finally got everyone organized. We left several weeping, but ecstatic, girls behind. Librette kissed Chey good-bye, quite thoroughly, to his embarrassment. The villagers waved as we marched up the hill in parade
ground ranks. Our company consisted of twenty three troopers, Will, Dysun, me, Roland, and four monks. We left the wounded in the care of the villagers.
Once over the top, out of sight of the village, we lapsed into a less orderly group, spreading along a trail winding through a stand of trees. It forked into three trails leading off in different directions.
"Which way, Roland?" I asked.
He led us down the left path. I edged my way forward to walk with him. We had to plan something and he knew more than the rest about the monastery.
"How far away is it?" I asked.
He squinted at the sky. "Another three hours of walking at this pace. Sunset is in about an hour. How are you going to free them?"
"I don't know. I've been making it up as I go. Tell me what to expect."
"The prisoners are in the storerooms on the lower floor of the east side. There's a passage into that general area from a set of caves. The entrance is halfway up a cliff to the north."
"How many guards do they have?"
"A hundred or so."
I looked at my thirty and wondered how effective we could really be. Maybe if we had surprise and lots of luck.
"Sergeant Clay," I called. "What weapons do we have?"
He hurried forward. "Five blasters, most of them more than half discharged, a dozen swords, and some knives."
I swore.
Sergeant Clay grinned.
"Bad?" Roland asked.
"Are there any weapons in the monastery?"
"None, except for what they brought with them." He frowned. "There are some things in the room with the Voice. No one really knows what they're for. They might be weapons from the Landing time."
"We really need to talk," Will said, edging between me and the monk
"I get to talk with him first." I nudged Will out of the way. "So far I've got a possible secret passage through a cave. What does the monastery look like?"
Roland described it in minute detail. With each sentence, I grew more depressed. The place was built like a fortress. No one had ever taken it from the monks until now.
"How did Clyvus manage?" I asked.
"Trickery. He bribed one of the monks. The man was excommunicated yesterday. He sold us out for mere money." Roland kicked a rock into a bush. "He could have at least sold us out for a trip to the other worlds."
"How did Leran and Pardui get in?"
"They blew the gates apart."
"Then we can get in that way."
"They have some sort of device that shimmers and blocks the entire front of the monastery from attack. Nothing can get through."
I swore again. They had a force field generator. "Did you notice a box? It would be silvery with buttons and lights on top, about this big." I held my hands out.
Roland nodded. "I think I saw something like that in the bell tower."
The bell tower rose maybe a hundred feet and housed the bell and not much else, the perfect place to put a generator. A set of rickety stairs gave the only access to the bell. The force field could easily shroud half the monastery. Brute force and direct frontal attack would be suicide. We would have to be sneaky.
"Sergeant Clay, pick out four men to serve as squad commanders. I want men who can think for themselves. If they need to be promoted, I'll promote them." I was screwing the whole military system, but I really didn't give a half-cooked rat about it.
"Right away." Clay saluted.
I was honored. I ignored the shocked glare from Harborl.
"What are you going to do?" Will asked, watching the sergeant move among the men.
"Set up camp and think of a way to get the monastery back that won't get us all killed."
We stopped in a tiny valley that Roland assured me was only a short walk from the monastery. Sergeant Clay brought three men to my fire. Harborl wasn't one of them. He sulked alone next to what he termed the officer's fire.
"I want to be one of your commanders," Clay said as he and the others sat.
"Fine, as of now, all of you are Lieutenants, first class, or whatever."
They traded grins.
"What's your plan, sir?" Clay asked.
I explained my plan. It had a lot of holes.
They chewed it over and made their own refinements. The depth of their deviousness impressed me. With Roland's help, we devised a way of taking the monastery. Whether it would still be standing when we finished was a matter of debate.
Clay plucked his lip. "It would be certain if we had twice the men."
"What of the rest of Robin's men?" I asked Roland. "Aren't they in the hills above the monastery?"
"We met them coming to the village." Roland stirred the campfire, adding more wood.
I shifted away. The dancing flames gave me the shivers.
"John Littlebottomford said they were going home to Sherwood where they belonged."
Will cursed. "John Littlebottomford is a sniveling weasel with all the morals of a lizard. I thought I discredited him with the men."
"Would he have sold out to Pardui?"
"No, he sold out to Clyvus. It makes sense. He was always off on solitary gathering trips. He'd come back with a purse full of money and contraband from off-world. I didn't think much of it until you and Tayvis came to our camp. John was conveniently absent for quite a while."
I stood, brushing leaves from my skirt. "Come on, Will. You, too, Roland. We have to find that weasel and convince Robin's men to help us."
Sergeant Clay lifted a blaster in one hand and a pair of cuffs in the other and winked. I nodded. It would be nice to have real authority on my side.
"Lieutenant Harlborl, you're in charge. If I'm not back in three days, find some way to get Patrol reinforcements and burn the monastery down."
"Captain Dace." Harlborl stood stiffly at attention, his hand to his forehead in a crisp salute.
We headed out of the camp into the dark night. Dysun appeared at my elbow, his chin set stubbornly.
"Their camp was over those ridges." Roland waved at the vague outline of mountains in the distance.
We picked our way through bushes and over rocks. We climbed cliffs and waded rivers. The moons were well overhead when I finally called a halt.
"Just where are they?" I winced as I rubbed the scrapes on my hands. Climbing mountains in the dark in a dress was not one of my better ideas. I'd have changed earlier if I'd thought about it. I hadn't and now I was stuck in a skirt.
Sergeant Clay clambered up a tree.
"We passed their old camp an hour ago," Roland said. "We shouldn't be far from their new one."
"It's over the next ridge." Sergeant Clay slithered down. "I saw camp fires."
"With our luck it's someone else," I muttered. "Let's go."
We scrambled over another dozen cliffs and forded more streams. We entered a forest of pines so thick the moonlight couldn't penetrate, leaving us in complete darkness.
"Hold hands," Will whispered.
"Who's leading?" I asked.
"Sergeant Clay. He has a pair of goggles." Will took my hand.
"Why didn't he tell me?" With the goggles, he could see with the faintest trace of light.
"Watch out for the log," Will warned.
I tripped and would have fallen if he hadn't caught me. He wrapped his arm around my waist.
"I think I see what Tayvis finds so attractive," he whispered as he squeezed me close.
I shoved him away. He took my hand, pulling me farther into the dark forest. I promised I would find some way to humiliate him later.
We finally broke through into a meadow, bathed in silvery moonlight. We paused at the treeline. Fires burned low on the far side, outlining sentries standing watch.
"What now?" Sergeant Clay whispered in my ear.
"Will, can you get us an audience?"
"John would happily stick a knife in my ribs."
"What if we woke the whole camp? How loyal are they to John?"
"Not very."
"Permission to proceed."
Sergeant Clay didn't wait, he pulled something from a pouch, tossing it into the meadow.
We waited, holding our collective breath.
The flash and boom of a flare disrupted the peaceful night. The camp came alive. Someone stirred the fires; flames danced high. Men ran back and forth, shouting.
"Was that really necessary?" Someone else might have detected the explosion.
"Woke them up, didn't it?" Sergeant Clay scrambled away before I could catch him, running across the meadow. He stopped near the blinding flare. "Men of Sherwood!"
The men in the camp stopped, swords held ready.
"You are about to be visited by a great wizard!" Sergeant Clay paused, then added, "Wizardess!"
I groaned. I looked like I washed dishes in a bar.
"Does he know that these men have met you?" Will asked.
"Would one of you please go stop him?"
"I think you need to go," Will said. "We're right behind you."
He and Dysun hustled me into the light of the flare. Roland followed, chanting loudly. Robin's men stared as if we were all completely insane. Their swords lowered. A few of them laughed.
"On your knees, dogs," Sergeant Clay bellowed.
I caught him in the ribs with an elbow. "That is enough. Thank you, sergeant."
He rubbed his bruised ribs.
Robin's men howled with laughter.
"Show some respect!" Sergeant Clay planted his fists on his hips.
"Give it up, Clay," Will said, not unkindly, "They've already met her."
Puzzled, Sergeant Clay looked from me to the hysterically laughing men.
"Come on," I said, pacing forward. "They are definitely awake now."
The laughter died abruptly as a man shoved his way to the front. He towered over the men, posing at the edge of the flare's light. He was covered with dark hair. Everywhere. It grew out of his open shirt front like a trapped animal. He glared. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" His deep voice made Clay sound high-pitched and weak.
"Hello, John," Will stepped in front. "This is Dace, of the Patrol Enforcers. We're here to arrest you and rescue Robin."
The night erupted into total chaos.
