Rangers at Roadsend

by Jane Fletcher

  Katryn lacked the will to protest further until they were seated in the taproom and Chip had placed a large shot of brandy next to Katryn’s tankard of beer. “I don’t drink spirits.”

  “You do tonight.”

  “No.” Katryn shook her head. “You don’t understand. My gene mother…I swore on her grave I’d never...She was murdered by a drunk. It wasn’t an outlaw, not even a petty crook—just an ordinary woman who drank too much and lost control and killed someone…like me today.” She was rambling.

  “You weren’t out of control.”

  Katryn showed no sign of hearing. “It was like hitting a straw target. You’d think a woman would be different. I can still feel the string on my fingers, feel the bow jerk as I loosed the arrow. And when it hit, I felt that”—she clenched her fist—“that…flash of triumph…like waiting for a judge to call bull’s-eye. Then she fell down and died. It was just like target practice. But a woman should be different.”

  “A woman is different. That’s why you’re sitting here with your head in pieces.”

  “It was so easy.”

  “I wouldn’t have said it was an easy shot. I couldn’t have managed it.”

  Katryn’s face twitched in a quick grimace. “The Militia in the way didn’t help, but I couldn’t have missed at that range. She didn’t stand a chance.”

  Chip considered Katryn. She had said the words far too matter-of-factly to be boasting. It might be worth finding out just how good she was with a bow, but that could wait.

  “Katryn, I know how you feel. We’ve all been through it. Drink the brandy. It blurs the mind so you can’t think straight, and when you’ve had enough, you’ll sleep. You’ll wake up tomorrow feeling like shit. You’ll be sick and have a headache. It will be lunchtime before you’ll be in a fit state to worry about anyone else. By then, Clarinda Wright will have been dead a whole day, and you’ll have enough distance to be able to cope with it.” Chip picked up the glass of brandy and held it out. “If your gene mother were here tonight, she’d tell you to drink this.”

  Katryn met Chip’s gaze. For a while, neither moved. Then Katryn’s lips twisted as her eyes filled with tears. She reached for the glass.

  *

  At the end of the evening, Chip had to half carry Katryn back to the room. They staggered out of the inn and along the road. Katryn babbled some story from her childhood about a game of football that had become a fight. Clarinda’s name was featured, though the recounting was so disjointed, it was not clear whether Clarinda was the hero or the villain. Of course, Chip thought, that is one big difference. I had never met the bandit before. I never even knew her name. But Katryn grew up with the woman she killed. Chip was not sure whether that made things better or worse. At least there would be fewer unanswered questions.

  Their irregular footsteps took them through the archway and across the main square of the compound. Their room was not much farther.

  Katryn was still rambling. “Her fam’ly won’t wanna buy any more bread…Mama won’t be pleased…she never is w’ me…she and Cy…” Her voice ground to a halt, and she slumped against a wall.

  Chip stood protectively close to ensure that Katryn did not fall. Abruptly, Katryn’s shoulders started to shake with sobs. Without hesitation, Chip wrapped her arms around Katryn and hugged her close, stroking her back. It was what she would have done for any Ranger in similar distress, but Chip could not shake off the awareness that it was Katryn she was holding. She tried to ignore the effect it was having on her, tried to stop herself from enjoying the feel of Katryn’s body filling her arms, and she partially succeeded.

  After a while, Katryn calmed down, but she still leaned against Chip. Her face was buried in Chip’s shoulder, and at some stage, her arms had wrapped around Chip’s waist. Cuddling like a pair of lovers. Chip mentally stamped on the thought. She tried to pull back slightly, ready to suggest that they carry on walking, but Katryn’s grip remained firm, and she began talking again. “I shouldn’t have joined the Rangers. I can’t cope with it. I don’t like killing people.”

  “There’s no place in the Rangers for anyone who does,” Chip said firmly.

  “I’m no good as a Ranger.”

  “You’re doing fine.”

  Katryn moved her head slightly, burrowing into Chip’s neck. “It’s better in the 23rd. In the 12th…my sergeant there, she and I…we…” Katryn broke off, gulping air.

  She was the affair that got you transferred, Chip surmised, but Katryn’s next words went in completely the opposite direction.

  “I didn’t get along with her…not like you. I like you. You’re nice.”

  Katryn’s arms tightened around Chip, who was caught so completely off guard that she failed to react as one of Katryn’s hands slipped up under her jacket while the other dropped down, pressing their hips hard together. Katryn’s head twisted; her lips brushed Chip’s throat and started to climb toward her mouth. The hand on Chip’s back was trying to pull her shirt free from her waistband. It was something that had to be stopped, Chip knew, if they were not to regret it deeply the next day. She did not know where she found the willpower, but somehow, Chip mustered the resolve to peel Katryn off her.

  Katryn stood swaying, fighting to focus her eyes. Her expression was surprised, then upset, and then surprised again. The final shift was one that Chip recognized very well after eight years in the Rangers. She was just able to direct Katryn’s head in a safe direction and get out of the way in time as the drunken woman threw up in the gutter. It was, Chip thought, a pretty good summing-up of her love life in general.

  Afterward, Chip maneuvered Katryn into the latrine block and got her cleaned up. Katryn sat on a water butt, looking dazed. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean…”

  Chip patted her shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean it. Come on. Time for sleep.”

  In the room, Katryn collapsed on her bunk. As Chip removed Katryn’s boots and outer clothing, she kept a firm grip on her thoughts, letting her eyes focus only on each button in turn. There was no way that Chip would let herself sink to the level of getting an emotionally vulnerable subordinate drunk and then seducing her. Chip folded the clothes into a neat pile beside the bed.

  “You don’t have to stop there,” Katryn mumbled indistinctly.

  Chip turned her head, but Katryn’s eyes were closed, and within a few seconds, it was obvious that she was fast asleep. Chip tugged the blankets free and arranged them over Katryn; then she stood, staring down at the sleeping face. For herself, Chip felt quite sober; she had not attempted to match Katryn drink for drink.

  Eventually, Chip turned away and pushed open the window. She hitched one leg up onto the sill. Wisps of thin cloud obscured half the sky, shielding the stars over Landfall, but the auras of both moons were visible through it. The fuzzy crescent of Laurel was low, brushing the rooftops, while the larger glowing orb of Hardie hung high overhead. The air was crisp. Chip leaned her head back against the window frame and considered the town of her birth.

  She was pleased that she had returned to Landfall; it had given her the chance to put her past in context. It was a process not so much of laying ghosts to rest as of finding out that they no longer existed. The spirits had been exorcised years ago; she just had not noticed until she went looking for them. Her family had no hold on her, and the temple had no hold on her. She might have been running away from them to join the Rangers, but she had ended up where she belonged.

  Meeting Prudence had been the point of illumination. Chip had spoken to Katryn afterward to prove to herself that she could, with a swelling sense of freedom. And Prudence had asked her not if she was financially solvent, or in line for promotion, but if she was happy. It was a choice of question that said much about Prudence’s own situation.

  Of course, happiness did not mean that she had no problems. Chip shifted around, turning her back on the rooftops. Katryn was now snoring. Chip studied her outline in the moonlight. She remembered Katryn hugging her, trying to
kiss her—and she had stopped Katryn. Chip groaned softly, but she had no regrets. Katryn had been drunk and upset, probably not even fully aware of who she was with. If Chip had taken advantage of Katryn’s situation, she would never have forgiven herself. It would have been deeply wrong—an abuse of trust.

  Chip sighed and let her eyes return to the scene outside the window. Of course, it was just as well that Katryn had been drunk and had not meant it. If, by the grace of the Goddess, Katryn should ever come to return her feelings, they would be doomed. It would be blatantly obvious to everyone it was more than a comradely sharing of a bed, and the Ranger command would simply separate them. That would go badly against Katryn, to be transferred between squadrons twice.

  A bitter grin at her own expense spread over Chip’s face—adding things up like there was ever a serious chance of it happening. With Katryn’s looks, she could have just about anybody she wanted, and Chip had no expectation of ever coming toward the top of anyone’s list. It went without saying that someone like Katryn would have to be blind drunk to take the slightest interest in someone like her. And there lay the only hope for a solution. Unrequited love would not last forever. Someday, it would fade. But until then, Chip knew that she did love Katryn with every scrap of her being.

  *

  It was several days before Chip and Katryn were free to leave Landfall. They had to give evidence at the preliminary hearings against Drummond and Paulino, and to provide sworn testaments to the magistrate (fortunately, not Chip’s sister) who would try the case. There was also a brief inquest into the death of Clarinda Wright.

  When they were not occupied with these matters, the pair spent their time in a wandering tour of Landfall. Chip even discovered an odd affection for the city as she showed Katryn around. They accepted an invitation to dinner with Prudence and her family, to the delight of Chip’s young nieces, who were overwhelmed to have two real live Rangers in the house. Chip called in on three more of her sisters, the favorite ones, and ignored the rest—including her parents.

  The best bit for her was an unexpected appearance by Sandy, her mother’s retired bodyguard. The elderly woman met Chip with tears in her eyes, words spilling from her mouth. “I was sorry to throw you out. You know I didn’t want to, but your mother ordered, and I couldn’t say no. But you shouldn’t have made off that night. You should have waited round the back. I came looking for you as soon as I could—searched half of Landfall. I knew you wouldn’t return to the sanctum. You always were too damned stubborn.” The two had hugged and headed to the inn for an evening of drunken reminiscences. That night, Katryn was the one to carry Chip back to their room.

  October was half gone by the time they left for Fort Krowe. Chip and Katryn made haste to rejoin the rest of their squadron, but rain and bad weather slowed them down. The trees along the road were covered in red and orange. As they got closer to the mountains, they could see the snow already beginning to creep down the slopes. It was going to be a long winter.

  As they rode the last few kilometers to Fort Krowe, Chip studied the cluster of buildings on the hillside above the town. “I wonder if the rest of the 23rd will be there waiting for us.”

  “Surely they’d have gotten back weeks ago,” Katryn said.

  “I was thinking they may have been sent out again. We’ll never get to stay here all winter. I’ll bet the border divisions have already put in requests for reinforcements.”

  “Will they need it?”

  “They will by spring.” Chip turned to look at Katryn. “Have you had any encounters with snow lions yet?”

  “Yes, once.” Katryn’s tone implied that once was enough.

  “They’re nasty.”

  “I know. A Ranger in another patrol was killed by them.”

  Chip’s face became grim. “It can happen.”

  They learned that the 23rd was still billeted at Fort Krowe and had been back from Redridge for two weeks. Chip and Katryn arrived just in time to unsaddle their horses and give a full briefing to Captain LeCoup and Lieutenant Ritche before dinner. Their arrival in the mess hall was greeted by friendly shouts and lighthearted banter.

  Chip slipped into her place at the C Patrol table with strangely mixed feelings. It was good to be surrounded by all her comrades, and it would be less strain now that she would no longer be forced into such close personal contact with Katryn, but she was not sure that less strain was really what she wanted. Katryn’s company was the most enjoyable torment she had ever known. However, she was so busy talking that she did not have time to think about it. Everyone wanted to hear what had happened in Landfall.

  After the meal, Kim caught up with Chip by the door. “I need to have a word with you.”

  “In the tavern of your choice?” Chip suggested.

  Kim shook her head. “Not the right venue.”

  “What is it?” Chip was apprehensive at the expression on Kim’s face.

  “Not here. Come over to my room.”

  Chip followed her friend across the parade ground to B Patrol’s bunkhouse. As sergeant, Kim had a small private room at the end. Kim closed the door and sat down on the edge of her bed, leaving the padded lid of the chest opposite for Chip. Her expression was serious.

  “You got my note about Katryn?” Kim asked.

  “Yes, thanks. But she hadn’t, strictly speaking, been lying. I challenged her, and—”

  Kim interrupted. “Yes. I know. When we got back here, Ritche looked at her records. I admit it was something I hadn’t thought of.” She paused. “Nine years in the Militia. Did she tell you why she left?”

  “No. I didn’t ask.”

  Kim looked faintly uncomfortable. “Did you get along well?”

  Chip could not help smiling. “Are you trying to find out if we slept together?”

  “Not quite that simple. But since you’ve raised the issue…?”

  Chip shook her head.

  “Do you still want to?”

  “Kim!” Chip protested, mainly from confusion. “Where is this going?”

  Kim combed her fingers through her hair. “I just wondered how you got along. What you made of her as a person. How you would sum her up.”

  “I like her.” Chip caught her lip in her teeth. “And since you asked, yes, I do still want to sleep with her, but I’m not planning on doing it.”

  “She didn’t tell you why she left the Militia after nine years?”

  “No. I’ve already told you that.”

  “Did she tell you why she was transferred from the 12th?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think she’s been completely honest with you? Is she trustworthy?”

  Chip hesitated before answering. “I think she’s still holding something back. But I trust her.”

  A frown appeared on Kim’s face. She pinched the bridge of her nose as though she were trying to ease it, or to muster her thoughts. At last, she began. “Ash has some contacts in Eastern Division. She’s got contacts everywhere. She sent a letter to a friend there, to see what was known about Katryn…why she was transferred. Ash got a letter back yesterday morning. What it said was…” Kim sighed and looked at Chip. “It said she murdered her patrol sergeant…stabbed her in the back.”

  “What!” Chip shouted in disbelief and then slumped back in her seat. “Oh, come on, Kim. Be sensible. If she’d murdered someone, she’d have been strung up by the neck, not transferred to another squadron.”

  “What Ash’s friend said was that everyone knew she’d done it, but it couldn’t be proved. She’d have been lynched if she’d stayed in the 12th, so they had to move her.”

  “How could anyone know she’d done it if there was no proof?”

  “Apparently, there was no direct evidence, but the sergeant was found with a trail knife in her back, and Katryn was the only one with the opportunity to put it there.”

  “If there had been any sort of case to answer, they wouldn’t have let her go.”

  “Logically, you’re right,” Kim conced
ed. “But we don’t know the circumstances. That’s why I asked for your impression of her.”

  Chip closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, thinking. Eventually, she dropped her arms and looked up. “She didn’t do it.”

  “You sound very sure.”

  “I am.”

  “Why?”

  “You heard she killed one of the bandits in Landfall—a pretty neat shot with a bow. I saw her reaction. It was the first time she’d ever killed anyone.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just a prod to a guilty conscience?”

  “Yes,” Chip answered simply.

  “It’s not exactly conclusive proof.”

  “That puts it level with the evidence against her. She didn’t do it. I’d stake my life on it.”

  “It might come to that if she’s in the habit of sticking knives into her patrol sergeant.”

  “I owe her my life as it is. That thug would have killed me if Katryn hadn’t shot her first. But you weren’t there. You didn’t see how it affected her. I tell you, she’s never killed anyone else.”

  Kim pursed her lips. “The letter also said there were rumors she’d left the Militia to escape some trouble that was catching up with her.”

  “Rumors?” Chip made the question a challenge.

  Kim gave a dismissive wave of the hand as a reply.

  “Who else knows what was in the letter?”

  “Just Ash and me. We wanted to wait until you got back.”

  Chip stood up. “Okay. I’ll try to get some answers.”

  “How?”

  “Like before. I’m going to ask her.”

  “You already have,” Kim pointed out.

  “This time, I’m going to ask for the complete story. Nothing less than the whole truth.”

  *

  Katryn was in the C Patrol bunkhouse when Chip entered, talking to Lee Horte and some others from the patrol. They were asking about the raid on Drummond’s, and Katryn was clearly being modest about her archery skills.

  “Here she is at last,” Lee exclaimed, spotting Chip. “We were about to head off to a tavern but thought we’d see what you were doing.”