Sheepfarmer's Dauther dop-1

by Elizabeth Moon

  “Go on.”

  “When the quartermaster came out, they talked, and he and all his men took off their swords. I had hoped they’d do a demonstration for us. Then one of the men led all the horses off to the stables, and the corporal went off with the quartermaster. We were through with practice and just cleaning up for supper when I saw him speak to the guard and go through the Duke’s Gate. I don’t know why—”

  “To arrange lodging for his captain, most likely.”

  “Anyway, I didn’t see him again until after supper, in the barracks. Only a few of us were in there; most weren’t through with their chores. Paks and I had finished ours before supper. She’d promised to show me how to do a round braid in leather; Siger had told us to start planning the wrappings for our sword hilts. And Korryn was there; he nearly always is. And two or three more. I’d just fastened some thongs together, and was showing Paks, when the corporal came in. He looked around, and saw us, and told Paks he wanted to talk to her.

  “Did he seem the same as before?”

  “I don’t know. A little flushed, maybe, and determined. He gestured Paks to the back of the room, and he had hold of her arm. He sort of pushed her against the bunk in the corner, so she sat down, and he sat down with her, and started talking. Telling her she should bed him, she should be flattered, all that stuff. I could tell she was upset; she got very pink and then pale, and she looked around—but what could we do? He was a corporal. He kept talking louder, and then he said—” Saben stopped abruptly and blushed.

  “Yes? What?”

  “He said she must have bedded someone, to be a file leader. It was terrible, sir, Paks of all people, and she was really angry. I didn’t think he should be acting like that, so I left to find you. Only I couldn’t find you or our corporals, for the longest time—I didn’t want to yell it out to the whole courtyard—and when I finally asked a guard, he said you were in the Duke’s court with the captain. The guard at the gate wouldn’t let me in, and at first he didn’t want to take a message. I shouldn’t have left, I guess, but I didn’t know they’d beat her up.”

  “You couldn’t tell. Next time there’s trouble, though, go to one of the guards at once to find me. Now, do you remember who else was in the room when Stephi came, and who left before you?”

  “Korryn and Jens, Lurtli, Pinnwa, and Vik, I think. Vik left just as the corporal came in; I don’t know about the others. I was watching Paks.”

  “Saben, have you ever asked Paks to bed you?”

  “No. I’ve wanted to, though. But she has enough trouble with Korryn bothering her; I didn’t want to be that kind of worry. If she wants it, she’ll let me know. We’re friends, anyway.”

  “All right, Saben; you can go.”

  “Sir, you won’t let them hurt her any more, will you?”

  “I’m doing what I can.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Enough, Saben. Go on, now.”

  A full glass later, after talking to everyone he’d summoned, Stammel faced his corporals and sighed.

  “I’m convinced,” he said. “And you are. But I wish it were any captain but Sejek.”

  “He’s a hard man,” said Devlin, nodding.

  “And stubborn. If he’s still in the same mood, evidence won’t mean a thing to him. Once he’s made up his mind—”

  “You can insist that Valichi preside,” said Bosk suddenly.

  “By Tir, I can! How did I forget that? It’s not as if Valichi yielded command to Sejek; he was just away. And since she’s a recruit—of course her commander has jurisdiction.” He rose. “Sejek’s going to be furious, I don’t doubt, but with what we’ve found, he’ll have to agree. I hope.” With a wave of his hand, he left the recruit barracks for the Duke’s Court.

  At the gate, he spoke to the guard. “I need to speak to the captain.”

  “He’s gone up,” said the guard. “Are you sure you want to disturb him?”

  “He’s not asleep,” said Stammel, cocking his head at a lighted window across the court. “I need to see him before he goes to bed.”

  “About—?”

  “Just announce me. He’ll see me.”

  “On your head, Stammel.”

  “It already is.” Together they walked across the court and the guard spoke to the door sentry.

  “Very well, sir. Down this passage, up the stairs, second door on the right. Not carrying any weapons, are you?” Stammel sighed and handed over his dagger. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  Stammel took a deep breath, checked the hang of his cloak, and strode down the passage, up the stairs, to pause in the second doorway on the right. Inside the room, a roomy study, the captain sat writing in the light of a double oil lamp. The captain finished his line and glanced at the door.

  “Come in, Sergeant Stammel. Did you check on your recruit?” Captain Sejek’s broad, rather flat face rarely showed much expression, and didn’t now.

  “Yes, sir.” Stammel stood stiffly halfway between the door and the desk.

  “Well?”

  “Sir, I’m not—easy about this.”

  “Tir’s bones, man, no one expects you to be happy about one of your recruits going crazy—it just happens sometimes. Has she calmed down at all yet?”

  “Sir, according to the guards who took her down, she made no resistance; she is not violent now.”

  “Well, she was violent enough. Of course she’s big, but I never thought a recruit could mix it with Stephi and come off on top. That man’s known to be a tough unarmed fighter. Still, I suppose the surprise—” The captain leaned back in his chair and let the pause lengthen. Finally Stammel broke it, his voice as neutral as he could make it.

  “Sir, I don’t think that’s the whole story.”

  “Well, Stammel, she’d have some sort of story cooked up.”

  “No, sir. It’s not that.”

  “Well, what is it? You won’t make me like it better by being coy.”

  “Captain, I wish you’d go and look at her—just look—or send someone you trust—”

  The captain raised his eyebrows. A danger signal. “What—has she been drugged?”

  “No, sir. Beaten.”

  “Beaten? You’re sure? All I saw was a royal black eye and a bloody nose—maybe broken—but that’s nothing.”

  “No, sir. More than that—a lot more.”

  “Well, maybe the guards gave her a few licks going to the cells.”

  “They say they didn’t; they say she was quiet.” Stammel sighed. “Sir, what she looks like now, I don’t see how she could have hurt Stephi much. How bad is he, really?”

  “He’s in the infirmary; they say he’ll live. Has two broken fingers, fingerprints on his throat—I don’t know what else. He seemed dazed, couldn’t really talk to me, and the surgeon said to let him sleep. But really, Stammel, that doesn’t get you anywhere. She attacked a corporal. If she got beaten up, she deserved it.”

  “I wish you’d look, sir,” said Stammel doggedly.

  “I’ll see her in the morning: not before. You realize there’s no doubt she’s guilty, don’t you? An eyewitness out of your own unit, plus Stephi—don’t you?”

  Stammel stood perfectly still, expressionless. “No, sir. I think there is a doubt.”

  “Stammel, what kind of ridiculous story had she come up with?”

  “It’s not her story, sir; it’s looking at her, and realizing that Korryn, the other recruit, must have been lying about one thing at least. She could not, absolutely could not have been winning over Stephi in her condition. She can’t even stand up—”

  “She’s faking.”

  “No, sir. Sir, I know that recruit, one of the best we’ve had, and she is not faking. That Korryn, he’s been walking on the edge since he joined, and if he’s lying about having to pull her off, he could be lying about the whole thing.”

  “What about Stephi?” asked the captain coldly.

  “I don’t know.” Stammel sighed. “I know him too, Captain, and he’s alwa
ys had a good reputation. But—something’s wrong here, sir, and I don’t think we know all the facts yet.”

  “Have you found out anything?”

  “Yes—not enough for a full defense yet, but—”

  “Stammel, are you trying to hold out for a formal trial, or something like that?”

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “Oh, for—! Stammel, how many days till Captain Valichi gets back?”

  “Three or four, sir.”

  “All your precious physical evidence will be gone by then.”

  “Not Paksenarrion’s. Besides, you could take evidence tomorrow.”

  Sejek was scowling as he considered this. “Both of us are a bit partisan on this case,” he said finally.

  “Yes, sir. I wouldn’t ask you to accept my assessment. But what about calling witnesses from Duke’s East, say, who could come, examine, and present their findings to Captain Valichi?”

  The captain thought a moment. “I suppose that could be done, though it seems a waste of time.” He glanced up at Stammel. “You realize Val may be just as summary as I would be—”

  “Yes, sir, but—”

  “But Valichi is the recruit captain, and has jurisdiction. All right, I won’t argue on that; you have the right to ask a trial if you think it’s justified. Now, who were you thinking of as witnesses?”

  Stammel frowned. “I was thinking through the Council members, sir, for those with military background and experience in court. I don’t like Mayor Fontaine myself, as you probably know, but he’s honest and no fool.”

  The captain nodded. “He’s said much the same about you, Stammel. I never did know what your row was about.”

  “Least said, soonest mended, sir, and I don’t expect he’d say different to that, either.”

  “Very well. Heribert Fontaine for one. D’you want two or three?”

  “As few as may be; I still think something very odd is going on. I thought of Kolya Ministiera for the second. She was a corporal in Padug’s cohort at the siege of Cortes Cilwan.”

  “I don’t remember her.”

  “Fairly tall, dark—graying now, of course—she lost an arm that campaign, or she’d have made sergeant the next year. She has an orchard.”

  “I suppose I’d better write a summons. Blast you, Stammel, you might have thought of all this a little earlier.”

  “Sir.”

  “Your recruit had better look the worse for wear in the morning. Come to that, if you go back to check on her—you were planning to, weren’t you?” Stammel nodded. “Well then, I want you to take a guard along—just to keep the chain of evidence quite clear.” The captain went on writing. Stammel stood quietly, seething over the implication of that remark. “Here—” said the captain when he had finished. “Send these over to Duke’s East tonight. We’ll see the evidence—and her testimony, if you want—before breakfast. Have troops paraded by sunrise, and we’ll get everything cleared up early on, I should think.”

  “Yes, sir. I have recruit Korryn, sir, in custody; I’d like him to be examined too.”

  “Very well; anything else?”

  “Yes, sir, there is. I’d like to ask the captain’s permission for the quartermaster’s assistant, Maia, to check on Paksenarrion for the rest of the night. She has some knowledge of healing.”

  “Do you really think it’s necessary? No—never mind: you wouldn’t be putting yourself into this position if you didn’t. Do what you think necessary. Just remember that she is a prisoner, not an honored guest. No one is to enter the cell alone, and the only mitigations to the ban must be lifesaving. I may not have the right to try her, but I can ban her.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “Now take those summonses, and let me get some sleep. Dismissed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Stammel took a deep breath as soon as he was out of the door, loosening the knot in his shoulders. He had achieved the concessions he’d come for, more than he’d expected to get. At the foot of the stairs, he almost collided with the Duke’s steward, Venneristimon, whose dark robes blended into the shadowy hall.

  “In a hurry so late, Sergeant Stammel?” asked Venneristimon.

  “The captain’s request,” answered Stammel shortly. He never knew quite where he stood with Venner.

  “Ah, well—then I won’t keep you. I was but going to inquire about the well-being of your recruit, the one in trouble.”

  “Pretty well beaten up. But excuse me, Venner; I must go.”

  “Certainly. Is it far?”

  “Not so far. Sentry—my dagger, please.”

  “Yes, Sergeant. Here ’tis.”

  Stammel could feel Venner’s eyes following him as he clattered down the steps into the courtyard and headed for the Duke’s Gate. The guard let him out without comment, and he broke into a jog across the main court. Maia, Devlin, and Bosk were waiting for him in the duty room. He gave them a grim smile.

  “We’re a little forwarder,” he began. “First of all, he’s agreed to a trial when Captain Valichi comes back: he wasn’t happy about it, but he did agree. I have summonses for Fontaine and Ministiera, as witnesses tomorrow morning. Dev, I’ll want you to ride over to Duke’s East in a few minutes with them. Maia, he’s given permission for you to check on Paks tonight, and even mitigate the ban if necessary—but don’t push it. You’ll have a guard with you, including in the cell. I’d like to know what you think of her injuries—can you tell if she was raped as well as beaten, for a start. Bosk, he wants the troops assembled before sunrise; I’m about to inform the other sergeants, but you see to it for our unit. Paks and Korryn won’t be in formation. Jens will, but be ready to take him out.”

  “Do you have any idea yet what happened to Stephi?” asked Devlin.

  “No. Neither does Sejek, if it comes to that. He can’t see how a recruit—any recruit—could knock Stephi about enough that he couldn’t explain himself. I still don’t know how badly Stephi is hurt.”

  “Are you going to talk to Korryn?”

  “Tonight? No. I couldn’t keep my hands off him.”

  “Hmmph. I’ll be back in about a glass, barring accidents.” Devlin picked up the summonses and turned.

  “Don’t have any tonight. Want an escort?”

  “No, sir. I’ll just take the fastest horse I can find.” Devlin ducked out of the room.

  “Shall I go down now?” asked Maia.

  “Yes. She didn’t look too good when I was there an hour or so ago. Take some water. I gave her some, ban or no: she’d been heaving and was too dry.”

  “I’ll do that. Do you need to speak to the guards for me?”

  “Maybe I should.” Stammel led the way from the duty room toward the prison stairs. “Should be someone around here—ah, there you are. Forli, the captain has given permission for Maia to check the prisoner’s injuries during the night, but she’s to have someone with her in the cell. Can you see to it?”

  “Certainly, sir, but I’ll have to confirm those orders with the captain in the morning—”

  “That’s fine. I know it’s unusual, but it’s one of the things I went to ask him about. Do you want me to call over one of the reliefs?”

  “No, Sergeant, I’ll take care of that.” The guard led Maia down the stairs toward the cells. Stammel walked out into the yard toward the other barracks.

  Chapter Four

  This time the noise of boots in the hall was much louder. Paksenarrion struggled to sit up as they came closer. It must be morning. Her heart began to pound. Maia had said that Stammel believed her, but Stammel’s belief was not enough, she realized. She still didn’t know if they would even listen to her side of it. The door opened. Two guards carried torches, and two came into the cell.

  “Come on, now,” said the darker one. “It’s time.”

  Paks made it to her feet, unsteadily, then stumbled over the bucket. The guards caught her arms to steady her. She was even stiffer than she had been the night before, and her head swam. The guards urged her ou
t of the cell, holding her upright. With every step, the bronze chain rattled on the stone flags and dragged at her ankles. She had never imagined how hard it would be to walk with chains on. She peered toward the stairs—a long way. The guards pushed her forward. She clenched her teeth, determined not to faint. As she walked, her tunic began to pull free from her legs; she could feel blood trickling down as one of the scabs tore loose.

  At the foot of the stairs, Paks swayed as she tried to look up. Her right foot would not lift enough to clear the first step. She tried the left, and made it. With the guards’ help, she hauled herself from one step to the next, but at the landing she could go no further. She broke into a cold sweat and her vision blurred.

  “No sense in this,” she heard one of the guards say. “Let’s get her on up.” She was hoisted between them and carried to the top of the stairs, and then to the barracks entrance.

  Although the sun had not cleared the wall, there was ample light to see the precise formations drawn up facing the messhall and infirmary. An open space larger than usual had been left in front of them. The guards turned Paks to the left, and began moving her along the left flank of the assembly. Paks tried to hold herself upright and walk properly, but she could hardly hobble along. Not an eye slid sideways to look at her; she stared straight at the mess hall windows ahead. If only this weren’t in front of everyone—everyone would see her battered face and ripped tunic. She shivered.

  “Just a bit more,” muttered the fair guard, holding her up as she tripped over the chain yet again. At last they came to the corner, turned right, and approached the center of the open area. Now Paks could see the bearded man in chain mail—the captain—and the corporal with a mouse under one eye and a bandaged hand, and Korryn. She had caught a glimpse of Stammel, but he was now behind her, at the head of his unit. She was placed in a line with Stephi and Korryn, facing the captain. Behind him were two strangers, a gray-bearded man in a plum-colored robe, and a one-armed woman in brown. Paks shivered again at the bite of chill morning air on her cuts and bruises. The captain stepped back to confer with the two strangers; Paks could not hear what they said. Then he came forward to address the assembly.