Varik chuckled when he saw her devour the pickles first. "I guess those jokes about pregnant women and pickles are true," he said, grinning broadly at his mother and sister.
Sharindis glared at him. "How about the ones about how short-tempered pregnant women are?"
Varik chuckled. "And that differs from your usual temperament in what way?" he asked.
Sharindis looked straight at him. "I may not be able to catch you, Var, but I'll remember that. I won't be pregnant forever."
Varik closed his mouth with a snap. Sharindis had taken her staff to him too many times for him not to take that threat seriously. Nahrana chuckled at her children.
"You two have to stop acting like this. You're grown now. There's no excuse."
Both Sharindis and Varik turned toward her and said, "But Mom."
"But Mom nothing," Nahrana said in a severe tone. "Shari is a grown woman, and you have to start acting like an adult, Varik. You're twelve. No more childishness."
Varik looked at the table and sighed, "Yes, ma'am." Shari just sulked.
Chapter 13
THE CARAVAN CONTINUED ACROSS THE NORTH of Evandia, trading as it went and seldom spending more than one day at any stop. Stavin spent a lot of time alone. The memory of what he'd done haunted him. No matter how he looked at it, he had killed an unarmed old woman. It was her desire to die, and the price she had demanded for her services, but that didn't stop Stavin's mind from replaying the instant that blade had met flesh over and over again.
The caravan's route was taking them close to the border with Andaria and the towns started being more wary of the traders. While there had been official peace between the two kingdoms for over two hundred years, there were still incidents of renegades crossing the border to raid nearby farms and villages.
Barvil listened to the stories the locals told and alerted his men. "There are reports of groups of men raiding this area. The army is patrolling, but hasn't reported any captures. I want each of you on your toes when you are on watch and everyone in full armor when you are off." He paused and looked each man in the eye. "These men may be Andarian deserters or even regular troops masquerading as bandits. Stavin, Karvik, fall back beside Aldric and Tavan as you do your rounds."
"Yes, Sir," they all said together.
Farval's hand was first up and began their rounds as the sun went down. The watch changed hands at mid night and the moons illuminated the area brightly. It was near dawn when Stavin and Aldric heard the sounds of fighting from the far side of the caravan. Aldric immediately started toward the disturbance.
"Ric!" Stavin snapped, stopping Aldric in his tracks. "Stay where you are unless called."
"But, Stavin, they're--"
"I know, but unless you are called, you stay at your post and watch the trees." Stavin was watching the shadows under the trees the carefully. "It could be a diversion."
Aldric fidgeted and paced until the sounds of fighting ceased. Then he gave Stavin a disgusted look and turned to face away from him. Barvil led Marvat to pick them up just a few spans later.
"Any trouble on this side?" Barvil asked.
"None, Sir,” Stavin replied.
"I'm glad you two remembered your duty," Marvat said, smiling at Stavin and Aldric. "Vardik came to help and left a third of the caravan unguarded."
"What's the count?" Stavin asked and received a sharp look from Barvil. "I'm just curious, Sir," he said defensively.
"Two for Sharvit, one for Mar, and one for Vardik," Barvil answered.
Stavin and Aldric followed Marvat and Barvil to the morning meal, then broke camp. Vardik was somber and uncommunicative, and it wasn't hard to guess that Barvil had already torn a strip of his hide off for leaving his position.
When they stopped that night, Barvil awarded the kills to his men. "Marvat, this is your eighth kill and your fifth expedition. Sharvit, you also have eight kills now. Vardik," he paused and waited for the young man to come to attention, "on this, your third expedition to the low lands, you have made your fifth kill. You may now paint your fifth white chevron on your armor."
"Yes, Sir," Vardik snapped and resumed his seat.
Now Barvil looked at all of his men. "I think that attack last night was a probe. Four men, even desperate men, wouldn't attack a caravan like this one. Not facing five men on watch. Be prepared to fight and call for help if you're attacked. If there is an attack, I expect each of you to do your duty and remain at your post unless called. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir!" all ten young men snapped.
Marvat's hand was up first and began walking around the caravan while the sun was still up. They had completed two circuits and were beginning their third when Aldric cleared his throat and said, "Stave?"
"Yes, Ric?"
"Thanks for making me remember my duty."
Stavin smiled. "Missing a fight beats getting yelled at by Barvil. Ask Vardik. You'll get your chance soon enough. Just remember that you are alone out here and yell for help as soon as you can. You're good, but you're going to be facing a lot more than two-to-one odds if Barvil is right."
"Yes, Sir," Aldric said with a grin.
"Don't start, Ric," Stavin growled, but he was fighting not to laugh.
Fighting not to laugh was all the fighting Stavin did that watch. Mid night came and the watch changed hands, and Stavin went to his tent after saying, "Nothing happening," to Karvik and Tavan.
Stavin was asleep when the shouting started and he snapped awake, shoved his helmet on to his head, and ran for the noise with his Dragon's Tongue in his hands. He burst out from between two of the wagons and was immediately struck hard in the back. His armor distributed the impact, but he was still thrown forward and down. He turned the fall into a roll and came up on one knee, striking blindly behind him as he turned but not connecting with anything.
A man with a huge battle ax was bringing his weapon to ready and moved in for the kill, but Stavin struck first, driving the blade of his Dragon's Tongue into the man's chest, and swinging the free end in a circle to ensure that he got the heart.
Stavin ducked to the side and used the dying man as a shield when a swordsman attacked from his right and cut the man's sword hand off before bringing the lower blade around to remove a leg as well.
Looking around, he saw Karvik kill one man and move on. Farval was pulling his sword out of another man's chest. Tavan was holding his own against two opponents, but losing ground. Running at full speed, Stavin hamstrung one of Tavan's opponents and moved on to help the newly arrived Aldric.
Aldric had suffered the same kind of attack Stavin had, but hadn't been as lucky. He'd sprawled face down on the ground and the axman was closing for the kill. Stavin threw his Dragon's Tongue like a spear, striking the man in his exposed side and spitting his heart and lungs. Another man was attacking and Stavin grabbed Aldric's dropped weapon to keep him at bay.
The rest of the warriors were attacking the bandits now and suddenly a horn sounded. Every bandit immediately withdrew, dragging their wounded where they could. In moments, the only bandits left were dead or dying.
"What in the five hells was that?" Marvat shouted.
"A tactical withdrawal," Barvil said. "Their commander saw that they were overmatched and pulled back rather than lose all of them."
"What about the wounded, Sir?" Farval asked.
Barvil walked around and spotted one man who was vainly trying to hold his intestines inside his belly. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I want to go home, Sir. I don't want to fight. Please, Sir, I just want to go home. I beg you. I want to go home, Sir. I don't want to fight--" was all the man would say, repeating it over and over again.
Barvil stepped back and looked around. "Who claims him?" he asked.
"I do, Sir," Rolas Kel'Norlan said.
"Then finish him," Barvil ordered and watched Rolas drive his sword into the man's chest. Barvil checked several of the wounded, but it was mostly the same pitiful story. Only one man was lucid enough to gi
ve him any information.
"We was press ganged. Whole lot of us. Oh, Gods this hurts," the man said as he clawed at the Dragon's Tongue that was shoved through his chest. "Army. You could tell, but no uniforms. Kill me. Please! The pain is too much."
Barvil looked at his men and saw that only Aldric was not holding a weapon. "Finish him, Aldric. Don't make him suffer anymore."
Aldric looked like he was about to vomit and held up his hands. "I don't have a sword," he almost whispered. Stavin silently held out his Dragon's Tongue and Aldric took it in one trembling hand. He said, "I'm sorry," then grabbed the Dragon's Tongue in both hands and beheaded the man. As the man's blood pumped onto the ground Aldric handed Stavin the golden Dragon's Tongue and turned away.
Barvil let Aldric go, silently motioning Marvat to follow him. "Search the bodies of your kills. Stavin, make sure Aldric's Dragon's Tongue is clean before you give it back to him."
"Yes, Sir," the warriors snapped and everyone, including Barvil, began their grim task.
In the morning Barvil awarded the stripes to his men. "Aldric Kel'Ranat, on this, your first expedition to the low lands, you have made your first kill, beheading a man after you had disabled him with your Dragon's Tongue. In accordance with the traditions handed down by our ancestors, you may now paint a white chevron on the left shoulder of your armor.
"Tavan Kel'Vorash, on this, your first expedition to the low lands, you have made your first and second kills. Your first man died after you cut his throat with your Dragon's Tongue and your second man died with your Dragon's Tongue through his heart. In accordance with the traditions of our ancestors, you may now paint two white chevrons on the shoulder of your armor." Barvil paused as his two newly-blooded warriors were congratulated by their peers.
"Rolas Kel'Norlan, on this, your third expedition to the low lands, you killed three men this night, two with stabs to the heart with your sword and one with a knife in the throat. You may now paint two additional white chevrons on your armor and paint your top chevron red. Congratulations, Sergeant Kel'Norlan, though you may not use that authority until next year.
"Orkahn Kel'Erins, on this, your fourth expedition to the low lands, you have made two kills, one with a thrust through the heart and one by beheading your opponent. You may now paint your top chevron red and claim the title of Sergeant. Congratulations, Sergeant Kel'Erins.
"Farval Kel'Dorval, on this, your fifth expedition to the low lands, you have made three kills. You may now paint your fifth white chevron and paint your top chevron red, and the claim the title of Sergeant. Congratulations, Sergeant Kel'Dorval.
"Vardik Kel'Markat, on this, your third expedition to the low lands, you have made two more kills, both with your sword and both with a slash to the throat. You may now paint your top chevron red and claim the title of Sergeant. Congratulations, Sergeant Kel'Markat.
"Sharvit Kel'Porval, on this, your fourth expedition to the low lands, you have made your ninth kill with a sword thrust to the chest.
"Marvat Kel'Sangran, on this, your fifth expedition to the low lands, you have made your ninth kill with the clumsy but effective technique of crushing your opponent's skull with a privy bucket." Barvil paused as everyone laughed, especially Marvat.
"Stavin Kel'Aniston, on this, your second expedition to the low lands, you have made three more kills, bringing your total to thirty-eight. I can tell I'll be justifying your advancement to the Council again.
"And last, but not least, Karvik Kel'Carin, on this, your second expedition to the low lands, you have made four kills, bringing your total to twenty-seven. You may now paint a red star on your shoulder and claim the title of Warleader Sixth. You may not use that authority until your fifth expedition, as I'm sure you are aware. The last person to win a star this early is grinning like a fool beside you."
Everyone spent a moment congratulating Karvik, then he looked at his father and asked, "How many did you get, Dad?"
Barvil shook his head slowly. "Only one. I was late to the party." That elicited another round of laughter, then everyone broke camp and joined the traders at the morning meal.
The traders continued along the road that paralleled the foothills for two more days before reaching the fortress of Zel'Erins. Orkahn was immediately fascinated by the name and approached Stavin. "Stave, could you find out who the fortress was named after? My family history says we came from Evandia about three hundred years ago."
Stavin nodded and looked at that the imposing walls of the fortress. "I'll see what I can find out, Orkahn," he replied.
The traders were setting up outside the walls and Barvil called his hands together. "I can't imagine anyone being foolish enough to attack us here, so two-man watches tonight." He paused as signs of relief escaped several of his men. "Stavin, you'll go with me to the fortress. I would like to report what we learned to the commanding officer."
Stavin snapped to attention and bowed. He said, "Yes, Sir," then added, "I wanted to ask about the fortress's history while we're here."
Barvil gave him a sideways look, then saw the expression on Orkahn's face. "Very well, but business first." He turned and started toward the fortress and Stavin hurried to catch up.
An Evandian Army sergeant stepped out of the shadow of the gate when Barvil and Stavin were three paces away. "State your business," he demanded in a bored tone.
"I am Friend of Evandia Stavin Kel'Aniston. I would like to speak your commanding officer about an incident three nights ago," Stavin said.
"Friend Stavin, is it? Lord General Zel'Kanit is a busy man. Why would he want to talk to you?" the sergeant asked in an insulting tone.
Stavin started to answer hotly but Barvil's raise hand stopped him. "It isn't that important, Friend Stavin. I'm sure the general knows about the dangers in these hills."
"But, Sir!"
"We have our own concerns, Friend Stavin. We'll protect the caravan and leave patrolling the hills to the general's men," Barvil said, turning to walk away.
Stavin matched pace with him quickly. "Sir, we have to--"
"Be quiet, Stavin!" Barvil snapped under his breath. "There were wounded men in there. Those men have fought a recent battle, and I'm guessing it was against us."
"But I thought--"
"So did I," Barvil said in a more normal tone, "but only because that one man said he was press-ganged. He was from Andaria by his accent, but that doesn't mean the soldiers who pressed him into service were."
"What do we do, Sir?" Stavin asked.
"Not a thing. We can't fight the whole garrison, though I doubt that the whole garrison is part of it. If I was going to run a campaign like that I'd have a cadre contingent of picked men, and use green troops for the attack. They slaughter everyone, then the core 'rescues' the caravan moments too late. No survivors, and if the caravan is missing some items then imaginary bandits who escaped could be blamed."
Barvil called his men together as soon as he reached the caravan. "We'll continue with two-man patrols, but I want the two off-going men to stay up. I still don't expect trouble, but we're not going to be caught napping."
The night passed without incident and the caravan moved on at first light. Barvil and Sahren agreed that it would be best to put as much distance between the fort and themselves as they could. As the sun set everyone began to relax, but Barvil had other plans.
"Men, we are in a bad situation. You all know that. We'll be sleeping two at a time with the rest on watch from mid night on. Farval, take your hand and get some rest. Marvat, standard patrol except I want Stavin and Aldric together. At mid night the watch will change hands, but only two of you will be able to sleep at a time. The rest will continue to watch from inside the circle. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," all five of the young men answered.
"Good. This is going to be hard on you, but it can't be helped. On your way."
The night remained quiet as the moons drifted across the sky. The watch changed hands and Marvat led his hand into the circ
le of wagons. As they reached the cook fire Marvat said, "Aldric and Stavin, get some sleep. We'll wake you in a little while to switch."
Stavin crawled into his bedroll and rolled over, closing his eyes and trying to relax enough to sleep. He had just gotten comfortable when a hand shook his shoulder.
"Get up, Stave. It's Vardik and Sharvit's turn," Marvat said in a tired-sounding voice.
Stavin crawled out of his tent, grumbling the whole time, and a hand shoved a mug of kava under his nose. "Keep it quiet, Stavin," Barvil hissed.
Stavin took the mug and sipped. The kava was just warm enough to be vile and strong enough to clean rust from iron. He took one long gulp and gagged as his body shivered in revulsion. "Gah!" was the only thing he could manage to say.
"Good. Stay in the perimeter. You're the only one of us who is easily recognizable, and I don't want anyone who is watching us to know we have extra guards on," Barvil ordered and Stavin's body came to attention while his mind was trying to catch up.
Aldric came to stand beside them and received a mug of kava. He said, "Thank you, Sir," in a disgustingly cheerful tone.
Barvil and Marvat led them back to the cook's fire and picked up mugs of kava for themselves. "Once you are awake, spread out. I would expect an attack from the forest rather than the road, so Marvat and Stavin go north and Aldric and I will go south. If there is an attack, circle out and attack from the sides. Stavin and Aldric found out why they shouldn't charge directly into the center of a fight," Barvil said as he looked at the two youths.
"Yes, Sir," the young men snapped and went to their posts. The night continued quiet until birdsong awoke the rest of the caravan. Barvil called everyone together while the traders were harnessing their mules.
"We're changing the marching order a little. Cross the hands and put fifth with first, fourth with second, and the two third-year men together. Snooze in your saddles, but just one at a time. We're going to do the same watch schedule tonight. Hopefully we'll be out of danger by tomorrow night. Just remember that the person you are waking up is armed." They all laughed a little at that, then split up.
Traders and Traitors (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 2) Page 9
