“This is just a vault disguised as a town home,” D’gattis said, as Nantar took a huge hunk of bread and a stack of meat. “The upstairs has sleeping quarters, a kitchen, room for guards or for us to defend from, if need be. The guard outside is from a Volkhydran warlord’s retinue. The staff has sworn fealty and can be trusted when we aren’t here.”
“And the gold?” Thorn asked, taking bread and meat.
“We laid the floor over it,” Ancenon said, half-grinning. “Took up the whole room. Next we can do the upstairs. There are about ten bars invested in the city, as well, and another twenty in a shipping company, meaning free transport for ourselves and small numbers of retainers to any port in the bay. Tomorrow we will have a teleportal to Outpost X from here, and we can begin moving gold.”
“So there really is an Outpost X,” Shela said.
“That might be what we’re talking about,” Genna mumbled.
I looked back and nodded to Shela, feeling a guilty pleasure as I enjoyed the feel of her fingers in my shoulders. “We killed a lot of Confluni getting in and out of there.”
“And Genna paid a high price,” D’gattis added, looking right at Shela. If he couldn’t get at her one way, then he would try another.
It didn’t seem to affect Shela, although all eyes moved between her and Genna.
The door opened and Drekk slipped inside, shedding a black cloak as he entered. You could look at him and know he didn’t like the gold insignia, and still did his best to hide it. I wondered why he hadn’t just changed his armor.
“Well?” Thorn asked him, when he just sat quietly.
He looked Shela up and down and said nothing. Then he looked back at the rest of us. I had used one of Genna’s daggers to cut four slices of bread and stacked meat in between to make two sandwiches. Nantar watched me with interest, his hands greasy, as I handed one sandwich to Shela.
Drekk finally said, “Well, on the local level, no one seems to care that we’re here, which is good. They aren’t planning on doing anything that we wouldn’t like; there are no big renovations or actions on the horizons. The harvest is going well and most people are focused on that.
“There is an international action going against Dorkan for the attacks on Outpost IX and the Great Dwarven Nation. Trenbon wanted one hundred bars of gold for reparations and the Dorkans refused, stating lack of evidence, and that led to a raid on Katarran. From what I can tell, the city is still under siege while the Fovean Council debates what to do.
“There is very little localized gang activity here – no one I could contact for certain. Crime is low because honor is very important to Andarans. I saw some activity on the wharf, but nothing more.”
We all nodded. It seemed like pretty good reconnaissance; Drekk knew his job. Then he looked at me.
“I heard a lot of buzzing about that horse of yours, though,” he said, almost accusingly. “He is a liability. The tribes are going to be coming around looking for it. Either it needs to leave, or you need to leave with it. We are about to be sought out regularly.”
“I agree with him,” Shela said, to me but for all to hear. “Kills With a Glance will brag to every other tribe that he traded me to the man who tamed a stallion from the Wild Horse Plains. They will come like war parties with their daughters to demand the same deal you gave him.”
“Now there is an image for the mind to ponder,” D’gattis commented.
“Don’t think he isn’t pondering it,” Genna muttered.
“There are worse images,” Arath added.
I blushed despite myself and focused on my sandwiches, mumbling that they would be better with some lettuce and tomato or a nice piece of cheese. Drekk shook his head, as if in mock pity at the price I might pay.
“So the question is, ‘Where to from here?’” Nantar asked.
They looked at Ancenon, who looked at me. I nodded to him – the time had come to be together on this. He took a deep draw of breath to buy another moment to think, then spoke.
“Lupus and I, as well as D’gattis,” Ancenon said, “have speculated that with this much wealth, there is the possibility of raising a very large, multinational army.”
Nantar scoffed, still watching my sandwich. “And do what with it?”
“Sell our services to other nations,” Ancenon said. “Multinational peace-keeping is waiting for a force of mercenaries to keep the bigger nations out of it.”
“Or to be used against them,” I added.
“Exactly,” D’gattis said.
“And when the Fovean High Council decides to unite every nation against us?” Thorn asked.
“We sell our services to every nation,” I said. “They need us, so they never find anything wrong with us. The Fovean High Council is made up of Fovean nations who will be using our services.”
“The Fovean nations?” Drekk asked. “You think they will pay us to fight for them? Why?”
“Because the numbers in national armies are limited,” I said, “and the warriors are expensive to house and to feed. They cost a lot to replace – we just gave Conflu a lesson in that. It is more economical to use us than for the Fovean nations to fight their own wars.
“As well, there is no law against us. Our actions are our own. We can work discreetly to fulfill national objectives that might not otherwise get fulfilled.”
They were silent, digesting that. These were intelligent people, with high ambitions. They could read the plan.
“Where do you get the soldiers?” Genna asked. That formed the crux to the whole situation. If Genna asked it, then in her current state of mind she wanted to punch holes in the idea.
“From everywhere,” I said. “Outcast people, treated unfairly, or just too beaten down to cope. Free Legion soldiers will be the chaff of every nation, with allegiance to none. They won’t care who we are fighting against, because they have a grudge against them all.”
“What use are such men?” Nantar asked. “You can’t make an army from beggars and thieves – no offense, Drekk.”
Drekk had taken the platter and imitated my sandwich. “None taken,” he said from greasy lips.
I had gotten the idea from the French Foreign Legion. They never wanted for men, even today. I told them about the land with a multinational army, held by one country, how little it cost to maintain, easy to recruit for and extremely efficient. Sometimes men really only need a second chance to start over.
D’gattis’ manservant had returned with another platter. He lowered it elegantly before me - a tomato, a few leaves of lettuce and a brick of cheese, reminding me of my muttered comment. I took a few slices of the tomato and one of the cheese, and added them with a leaf of lettuce to my half-eaten sandwich.
Half the room watched me as Nantar beckoned to the man to bring him the meat platter.
“The world is full of outcasts,” D’gattis admitted as this progressed.
Now they were all nodding, chewing or both.
“Where do we go to find them?” Arath asked.
“Eldador,” Ancenon said.
There were private rooms for all of us; Shela and I actually had a pile of furs in ours. Suffice to say we had christened them.
Afterwards she wanted to run errands in town. I gave her my pouch with all of my remaining coins in it. She kissed me and left without a comment.
Genna didn’t take long to find me in my room afterwards, leaning on my doorframe, blocking my exit.
“She’s pretty,” she said. “Healthy. Young.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, I could tell how much you liked her.”
“Lupus, I just hope you are happy with her.”
I could see the strain in her face. It hurt her to walk, to climb the tower stairs, to face me.
I had been dreading this and now I faced it.
“Genna, if I hadn’t taken her from Kills With a Glance I would have had to fight the whole tribe.”
“You seemed willing to fight the Confluni nation.”
“And if I coul
d have taken one of their daughters instead, I would have done it.”
“So this girl is nothing to you?”
I didn’t answer. I knew the answer, but I couldn’t say it to Genna.
Which told her the answer right there.
“Glad to see what we had meant so much to you, Lupus,” she said. “You are a great guy.”
“Genna, I did not pretend –“
“No,” she shrieked, her hand on the hilt of one of her knives.
“You don’t leave me here, go out and round yourself up another lay, and then come back and tell me this is my fault, Lupus.”
“I am not saying –“
“You don’t tell me that I should have expected this. You don’t tell me that what you felt for me meant nothing.”
I looked into her green eyes and held them. She didn’t deserve this and it felt so wrong.
But I couldn’t feel for her. I couldn’t love her, and I couldn’t tell her that now. No matter what I said, she would look at Shela and believed I had lied.
“I,” I said, then hesitated. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“I am not trying to tell you anything.”
She left. I heard the door to her room close. I heard mutterings in the tower that I couldn’t make out, although I admit I barely tried.
Later that night, I sat alone in the sitting room with Thorn, Shela’s head in my lap as she slept. The rest had gone upstairs, except for Genna who had never come back down.
But now, I sipped the strong, warm ale from D’gattis’ vat and said nothing.
“Genna didn’t take this well,” Thorn said.
“There’s an understatement.”
He regarded me. He had been there and I could see that even he had his doubts. Why shouldn’t he? I did.
“You know,” I finally said, “I thought I had married her.”
“Shela?”
“Yeah.”
Thorn looked at me. “There was no ceremony.”
“No,” I said. “I come from a land where the slaves were emancipated. We think it is a good idea to have none.”
“Ah,” Thorn nodded. “I think Shela will want no emancipation, Lupus.”
I smiled and stroked her long, black hair. “She does seem so committed.”
“She is doing her tribe proud,” Thorn said, leaning forward, very serious. “For you to marry her, you would have to join the tribe, and that would mean a certain amount of scarring, knowing the ways of the plains, the other tribes. It would require being accepted by the whole tribe, and every beast in it. That would take you years.
“In this way, she can still bear you sons and have no worry that they are raised outside of our tradition. By keeping you happy and safe, she makes her personal sacrifice for the Long Manes, and walks proud among them, even though, by our laws, you could trade her any time you wanted, change her name, even beat her in public.”
I smiled even wider. “I think that this one doesn’t lend herself to being beaten in public.”
Thorn laughed and took a long pull of his drink, then got up to his feet, grunting. “That one is a Sorceress, Lupus. In the North, they have Wizards, who study in universities and squint over parchment to cast intricate spells. In the South, we have Sorceresses, born to Power, taught in the oral tradition. They are few, but they are mighty. There are few Wizards looking to fight a Sorceress to the death, because they do not win. Or do you think that a common slave girl could back down our D’gattis?”
I didn’t know or hadn’t considered any of this, and said so.
“Then know this, Lupus,” he added, walking for the stairs. “I saw her eyes when we came to the tribe, and knew her for what she was. She fell for you when you rode up on that big, white horse in your bright, shiny armor. She could have taken that horse from you and made us all believe that you gave it, and Kills isn’t above that at all. It is probably why he brought us to his tribe.”
Then he stood and climbed up the stairs, leaving me to think. When I looked down at Shela, her eyes were open.
“You heard it all?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t dishonor you by going to sleep before you, unless you told me to.”
“Is it true?”
She closed her eyes, long enough for me to believe that she wouldn’t answer. Then she opened them and looked up into mine.
“Yes, I am a Sorceress,” she said, finally. “And yes, my father wanted that horse, and he knew that I could take it. I suggested that he make the trade. What more do you need to know?”
I stroked her hair, and then tweaked her nose to make her laugh. “Nothing.”
“Well,” she said, “know this. I knew, as well, that you thought that you were marrying me. In your heart, you took me as your wife. In my heart, I gave you that, even though it would shame my whole tribe. It would ruin me inside if you were to decide that I was anything less than the woman you married, White Wolf, who is called Lupus, who is called Rancor and Mordetur and perhaps by other names.”
“You mean with Genna – “ I began.
She shook her head. “This Genna’s sickness speaks for her, White Wolf. You feel guilty for the happiness you feel, and you look to cloak the happiness in the guilt.
“Genna’s misery is her own and you partake of it of your own will.”
This stunned me. All the guilt, all the pain, Genna crying –
“I am your slave, White Wolf, but I would have the spot in your heart that is reserved for a wife,” she said. “You can choose not to give it, but that is how you would ruin me inside.”
“The only way I plan to ruin you inside,” I said, leaning down to kiss her, “would be to let you know that, in my family, the children are usually born with very large heads.”
She kissed me, then she punched me several times, smiling with a tear in her eye.
“And now there is a thing I would know,” she said.
Ugh – I knew what that meant. Did you love her, do you love her, does Shela have to worry? How do you answer those questions, when you know the person asking has already made up their mind on the answer?
“Anything,” I said, and braced myself.
“What was that wonderful thing we ate?”
I felt my face open up in a smile. What could have better expressed the mind of this woman, my slave girl, my wife, Shela.
Maybe you could survive love after all?
Chapter Twenty
The Aschire
The scribe wrote:
11/2
My Dear Aileen,
It is with heavy heart that I write to tell you that I will not, after all, be returning to Volkhydro – at least not in the foreseeable future. I have joined with a group called the Free Legion, and we are bound for other lands, on journeys that will take years.
I wanted to let you know that your brother died a hero’s death defending us against what I now know were Confluni National Guard. If not for him, the Confluni would have raided us unawares and I would no longer be alive. In his honor, I killed more than thirty of them; not counting the ones that fought with us that night. I laid waste to their southern guard and, with these friends, exacted a heavy price for their evildoings.
I beg you to find the happiness that I could never have given you, Aileen. It has been months since we parted. This is the first chance that I have had to write. You deserve better, please find it for yourself.
Sincerely
Rancor
I sent this letter to Talen, where a paid messenger would carry it to Aileen. You never expect to see a letter again. They are emissions that, like in sex, we trust to another. But just as those emissions can come back to haunt you, so can a letter.
Standing in the lowest floor of our tower, there were two decisions to be made, one regarding Genna, and one regarding Shela. I tried not to be the only one to make either one of them.
We needed to travel, and Genna wouldn’t survive it. However, the Fire Bond didn’t bind her, and no one of us wanted her to be alone with our gold and
the knowledge that she possessed. The house staff for the tower had been bound with what D’gattis called a fealty. If they stole from us then something terrible would happen to them. Genna didn’t have enough strength even for that.
Shela had strength to travel and then some. However Thorn, Nantar and Ancenon had wives, and those wives stayed at home while their men went out and did the things that men do. Tradition spoke for it. Arath had some secret commitment and Drekk wanted no woman, at least not that I knew of. All of them believed that the best place for Shela was right here where she could look after our gold and be out of the way, bound by the same fealty.
Shela did not agree. I didn’t like it, either, and D’gattis didn’t seem able to bind her with anything.
“It is the way,” Thorn told her cryptically.
“Not my way,” Shela argued.
“Shela will encumber us, she will draw on our resources, and she will bring trouble,” D’gattis informed us all. He stood resolute in his white robes, with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You have not yet begun to see trouble,” Shela fumed.
“Genna is a professional killer and can take care of herself,” Arath said. “Even ill, she could defend herself in the back of an ox cart.”
Although no one said it, they saw Shela as a plains girl in a halter-top. Of course, she had also just happened to walk through one of D’gattis strongest wards like it didn’t exist.
“Which is more than your camp whore could do,” Genna mumbled. The circles under her eyes were darker than the day before, her eyes red.
Shela turned on her. “Camp whore?”
“Enough,” Ancenon told us, sensing as I did that things were about to get worse fast. D’gattis felt too confident and, I believed, liked his position as our most dangerous Wizard. Shela challenged that, and he wanted to remove that challenge.
Indomitus Est (The Fovean Chronicles) Page 30
