"He merely wished to teach the boy."
"He was not teaching; I have many witnesses to that."
"All the witnesses are your own troops." The Red Hand Captain sounded bored.
"This is getting us nowhere," the High Commander stood. "I suggest one of our own traditions to decide this. Our man, with a blade, against the best you have. The one that survives, wins."
"That is not how we handle things," the General rumbled.
"It's the quickest way to settle this. We could be at this for days," the High Commander yawned to get his point across.
"Let me," I said softly to Solis. He turned to give me a concerned look as I knelt in my accustomed place next to his campstool.
"You're good, but not that good," Desmun muttered to me from his seat beside Solis.
"I like this," the High Commander grinned maliciously. "Your smallest female, against my most experienced blademaster? That's a joke."
"Are you sure you can do this?" Solis asked me quietly.
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't volunteer. Who would go otherwise?" I asked.
"I would," Solis answered. I'd already guessed at that and wondered then if this whole incident wasn't a set-up. The High Commander wanted command of the entire army—had from the beginning. What better way to assert his authority and prove that he should be in charge, since his were the better troops and all? What better way to discredit the General's leadership as well? Prove to all that he was weak and worthy only to be second-in-command, if that? Yeah, I was extremely distrustful of the Pelipu, who seemed to have his own best interests and ideologies at heart. Too bad he wasn't here to be scrutinized.
"I want the female to go against Mardis." The High Commander was pushing his agenda, now.
"Liss, are you sure?" Solis asked again.
"Most definitely," I nodded. Mardis deserved to die. He wasn't expecting to do anything other than kill whoever came against him and then hand total control of both armies to the High Commander. He had his sights set on Solis, who was the General's best swordsman.
"Bring Mardis," the High Commander smiled. Torches were brought, as was Mardis, and a fighting square was set by placing a torch in each corner. We had to stay in that area to fight. I was learning the High Commander's rules—if you stepped outside the square, you were declared the loser and beheaded as a coward. He had some fucked up rules, all right.
Solis, Cordus and Desmun all pulled me aside to talk to the General. "I'm not familiar with your skills, Liss, and I am placing my trust in you over this," he said softly. "If you are able, take him down swiftly."
"How fast do you want this to be?" I asked.
"As fast as possible." The General wasn't comfortable with this, I could tell. I could see the concern in his face, and that surprised me. The concern wasn't for what this might do to his command if I lost—the concern was for me.
"I'll make it fast," I nodded. Solis walked with me to the edge of the square. Mardis, wearing trousers only, was already inside the fighting square. He made quite a show of flexing bare arms and shoulders. Well, if there was a bigger asshole on Vionn, I hadn't met him yet.
I drew both my blades and checked them over, just to have something to do. "Think you to frighten me with two?" Mardis snorted. I didn't answer him. I was tempted to launch into a diatribe over what filth and scum he was, and that wouldn't do. Dragon and the other Falchani let their blades do the talking. Mine were about to sing.
"On my signal," the High Commander stood on the perimeter of the fighting square, as did the General and the Captains from both sides. I watched Mardis. There was no way I wanted any surprises from this asshole. I watched his left hand (which was gloved and clenched), and then noted where he was standing, extrapolating the movement he'd have to make if he threw something in my eyes. Yeah—he was a jerk on top of being an asshole. A deadly jerk.
The High Commander shouted and Mardis moved swiftly to fling his handful of pepper flakes, but not swiftly enough. I had enough time to close my eyes against the pepper he'd tossed in my face, but his head was already severed. I stood there, sneezing violently as our audience watched Mardis go to his knees and then topple over, his head rolling out of the fighting square.
I was led away between Solis and Desmun, still sneezing, my eyes watering from the pepper flakes that clung to my skin. I'd sheathed my blades, but I'd have to clean them when I could see properly again.
"Here," Solis handed a small towel that he'd drenched in water to me.
"The calf-brained idiot planned this," Desmun swore and paced along one wall of Solis' tent.
"More than likely with the High Commander's blessing," Solis agreed quietly. "Keep your voice down, Desmun. Do you want the spies to hear?" Solis watched me as I blinked; I was finally seeing better after washing my face twice. The sneezing had stopped, thankfully.
"Who taught you how to fight with blades?" Solis asked when things settled down and Desmun's curses had softened.
"My father-in-law," I answered honestly. If I'd done things my way, I'd have gone to mist, those pepper flakes would have gone right through and my claws would have severed Mardis' head.
"You're married." Solis said it flatly.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" My answer caused Solis to look up at Desmun.
"I'll never tell," Desmun muttered. "I've never seen anything like that. Those skills don't need to be hidden away in the home."
"Were you not aware that married females aren't supposed to join the army?" Solis was grinning at me, now.
"Had no idea. If it becomes a problem, though, just let me know. There are other things I can do." I could go to the opposition, to sit and wait for everybody to clash together before I made my final decision.
"I don't think I want you anywhere except right where you are," Desmun said. Solis nodded in agreement.
"We may move you over to the General, though," Solis said. "Warn, his bodyguard is good, but he's not the best. I can trade off and take Warn for mine. Shouldn't be a problem."
"Message for Captain Solis," a runner stood outside our tent. Desmun went to pull back the tent flap, inviting the young man inside. He handed the rolled-up scroll to Solis, who broke the seal.
"The General is thinking the same thing," Solis said, standing up and stretching. He and I had been sitting on the two campstools he had inside the tent. "Come on, Liss, you'll be guarding the General from now on. Mind you, if he isn't kept safe, you'll answer to me." I gathered up my things and followed Solis and Desmun from the tent, the nearly forgotten runner trailing behind us.
"Warn, I trust you don't mind acting as bodyguard to Captain Solis," the General said.
"Of course not, sir," Warn dipped his head to the General.
"Take your things to my tent," Solis said, and Warn nodded to him as well before leaving to gather his belongings.
"Desmun, go out and see what the Regulars are saying about Mardis' death. I want to know if there are any rumors we need to dampen," the General ordered. Desmun nodded and left the tent. "I'd like to know what Red Hand is saying as well, but they've tightened their perimeters and we can't get a single spy through right now," the General raked a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Now, young woman, I want to know where it is you learned to fight like that."
"Her father-in-law taught her," Solis grinned.
"Laws were made to be ignored, eh?" The General laughed.
"I think I might be able to sneak over, if you really want to know what Red Hand is saying," I told Solis and the General.
"Liss, that could cost you your life and I wouldn't be able to stop them if they caught you," the General said. "Maybe in a night or two, when things have settled down. They have spies, I have spies. It's a terrible world when you can't trust your allies, isn't it?"
"Allies," Solis snorted. "This is the cat inviting the tiger to help him hunt the mouse. It's not just the mouse in danger, here." I felt the same way, but I wasn't about to voice my opinion and I wondered why these two were suddenly discuss
ing everything so freely in front of me.
"We have a weapon against you, should you turn against us," the General smiled grimly. "You can be put to death for enlisting as a married woman."
"Oh, that's just lovely," I muttered. Well, if they tried to kill me, they might have some angry Larentii to contend with, not to mention an angry Lissa.
"You'll be all right, Liss," Solis patted me on the back and stood up. "I'm not looking forward to Warn's snoring." He yawned as he walked out of the tent.
"Get some sleep, Liss. We'll be up early tomorrow." The General stood as well. I nodded and left his portion of the tent, going out to my front section. At least it was bigger than what I'd had with Solis, but I didn't have very much to fill it, anyway. That night, I placed a larger shield around us and included the officers' tents, after checking all of them for any sign of taint. One bodyguard was missing when he should have been inside the tent, but after Looking, I found him with one of the camp followers, having a good time. I withdrew quickly—didn't want to see more of that than I had to.
* * *
If the High Commander was surprised by my sudden appearance at the General's elbow at breakfast the next morning, he didn't show it. He just kept eating at his table with two of his Captains. I tasted my morning tea and grimaced.
"Something wrong?" The General had laugh lines around his eyes. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with slightly graying brown hair and green eyes. He was straight and fit, though, and I figured he'd earned his rank.
"This tastes like mud," I grimaced again. I don't know what kind of tea the General liked—they'd served me the same thing and expected me to like it. Solis liked his tea lighter and it was palatable, at least.
"The stronger the better," the General smiled wider and sipped his tea.
"Whatever you say, sir," I shuddered and set my cup down with a thump. He laughed. Solis, Desmun and Captain Nord came in to sit with us and they were served better tea, I just knew it. Warn was with Solis, Desmun's bodyguard, Maks, was right behind him, and Nord's bodyguard, Ander, was at his elbow.
"I think you grew two heads and four arms after last night," Desmun said, looking at me. I was trying to chew the bacon I'd been served—I think the pig was at least a hundred years old before he died and then they didn't butcher him for days after that. It was the toughest bacon I'd ever had.
"I don't think my blades would cut this stuff," I set the slice of bacon on my wooden plate with a sigh.
"You'll get terrible food for a few days; I had to send the cooks back to the castle in chains last night," Cordus came over and sat down, his bodyguard, Gus, with him. "They'd been paid off by Red Hand spies."
I wondered what Red Hand had paid them to do, other than listen to the General's conversations with his Captains over breakfast, but like the other bodyguards, I kept my mouth shut. All the bodyguards were kept out of the General's tent later while he had a private conference with the Captains. The other two Captains, Blade and Grip, had shown up, finally. They could be excused for being late, though—they'd been up part of the night with the Sergeants, quelling a disturbance or two among the Regulars.
"I hope I don't have to tell you not to let him down," Warn was in front of me suddenly while I was watching The Red Hand troops, who were camped just north of us. The High Commander was sending a couple of men away on horseback. That made me frown. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," Warn demanded, jabbing a finger in my chest.
"I don't have any argument with you," I pushed his hand away. "And whatever the General wants, he'll probably get unless he asks for sex. Why is the High Commander sending two men toward Phergis?" Phergis was the capital city of Farus, where Rindle's castle stood. It was also the nearest city to Seaport, where the Pelipu's troops had landed on Farus.
"He's sending two back?" Warn whirled to look. The two racing horses were all that could be seen, now. That caused him to snort. "Fucking spies," he muttered.
"Probably on their way to deliver a message to the Pelipu," Gus said. "It'll take a day and a half to ride back to Seaport, and then another two days to cross the channel, and a day beyond that to get the message to The Red Hand himself."
"So, we have ten days or so, before a message comes back?"
"Sounds about right," Ander agreed. "And who knows what was in that message to begin with? Could just be that the commander didn't like his breakfast this morning." The others laughed. If I were free to go and wasn't worried over my discovery, I'd go right then, place compulsion on the High Commander and find out things for myself. Meanwhile, I was forcing myself to play by the rules.
The Captains came out after a while, ordered everybody to saddle up and we were on our way half an hour later, after the General's tent was taken down and packed away.
We were still traveling over wet ground—the wagons got stuck as usual, which held everything up and we went about half as far as the General wanted to go. He was frustrated by our lack of progress and grumbled when we were forced by darkness to camp for the night. The High Commander was giving us the cold shoulder, too, choosing to show up for meals only.
"This bread is disgusting," Desmun tossed the dry lump onto his plate. "Is it too much to ask to get decent bread, at least?"
He was right—the bread was disgusting, but I had a feeling that the people in the cooking tents were the ones being punished for infractions, since the regular cooks had been arrested and sent back to Phergis. What could you expect except a lousy meal?
"With your permission, General, I'll go out and find better cooks," I volunteered.
"Can you get me a good breakfast tomorrow morning?" The General asked.
"I can try," I nodded. He gave permission, Warn offered to watch the General and Captain Solis, so I went looking for cooks among the Regulars.
"Who can cook? Show me your hands," I said to the first tent filled with Regulars, all of whom were trying to eat what we'd been served. Two hands went up. "Do you like to cook?" I asked my second question. Both hands stayed up. "Good. Meet me at the cooking tents tomorrow morning, two hours before sunrise." I went to the next tent and asked my questions again. Before it was over, I had thirty-five willing hands, and they all showed up at the cooking tents very early the following morning. I kept my shield up around the General's and the officers' tents—I'd have an early warning in case anything happened while we all went over basic biscuit and bread making. The bread dough had to be set to rise in special pots hauled in the cookwagons. We sliced the bacon thin enough that it would cook quickly and wouldn't be so tough we couldn't chew it. We made gravy to go with the biscuits and fried potatoes—we had plenty of flour and potatoes. Few eggs, though; those were as precious as gold until we reached a town to the north and east. I learned we were hoping to get more salted beef and pork, there, and perhaps a fresh meal or two.
"Well, this is certainly an improvement," Solis said as I sat between him and the General with my plate of food. I'd taught the new cooking staff that one of the perks of cooking was getting extra rations. It was only fair.
"You get to decide how to punish the ones we took off cooking detail," I said, biting into a decent piece of bacon. "Take my advice and don't let them anywhere near the cooking tents from now on."
It was a better day all the way around; the wagons barely got stuck once, and only three fights broke out. "Feel like doing a little sparring?" The General had taken his green coat off and dropped it onto a campstool as soon as a handful of Regulars got his tent up.
"If you want," I nodded. Actually, I wasn't looking forward to it. I figured we'd have an audience, and I wasn't wrong.
"You won't upset me if you give me a thrashing," he grinned and lifted his blade. At least the ground was firmer, here, and the new grass was taller. I was happy with the smell of spring in the air, but I wasn't crazy about the horse poop and the trenches that were dug every night. They were far enough away that they didn't bother the others, but if the wind was right, it carried the stench straight to my supersensi
tive nose.
The General and I had a good exercise but I didn't go on the attack, I just blocked his blows as I usually did when sparring. He was good, I'll give him that. Our audience seemed disappointed, though.
"You think she's going to upstage the General?" Solis barked at them when they started grumbling. That got everybody's attention, and they turned back to their bladework.
"Here, you're holding that wrong," I went to correct a young man, who was struggling with his opponent. This one was around nineteen; I'd gotten his age from his scent. I placed his hand in the correct position. "And there's no shame in holding it with both hands, if it'll save your life," I told him. "If it came down to holding it with both hands or losing my life, I think I'd hold it with both hands. If your wrist gets whacked, let the other hand help out." He was nodding at me, his eyes wide. I watched him clack his wooden blade against his opponent's, who was more experienced, I could tell.
"Parry with the flat of your blade," I added after a while. "If you nick your blade, it could break, or at least cause you problems getting a good edge back on it," I suggested. He nodded and whacked away, conscious now of using the flat as opposed to the edge.
"Let's clean up before dinner," the General pulled me away. I nodded and went with him.
Chapter 5
"Do you remember when you offered to sneak into the enemy camp and do some spying?" I listened as the general washed himself in a bucket of water a Regular had brought to the tent. I nodded. I'd get my own bucket, as soon as the General was done.
"I'd like for you to do some spying tonight, after everyone else is bedded down. Head for the trenches first and then sneak into their camp from there, if you can. Just remember, I'll punish you myself if you get caught."
"I understand, sir," I nodded.
Using a bucket to wash and cold water to do it isn't the best way to take a bath, but it could have been worse. I had soap tucked inside my duffle, and I managed to get my hair clean, combed out and braided before we went off to dinner. Meals were a definite improvement with the new crew in the cooking tents. The High Commander came over to our table, too, and ate with the General while pointedly ignoring me. That was fine; I thought he was a shithead anyway, and I'd killed his star mercenary. He could be grumpy if he wanted.
08 Blood War-Blood Destiny Page 7
