John Ringo - Council Wars 01 - There Will Be Dragons

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John Ringo - Council Wars 01 - There Will Be Dragons Page 57

by There Will Be Dragons(lit)


  As they neared the house the crowds dwindled away and Edmund shook his head. "I need to leave someone behind to keep up the spirits of the town."

  "Leave Herzer, then," Daneh said. "Surely he's done enough."

  "My place is with the triari, Dr. Ghorbani," Herzer said quietly.

  "That it is," Edmund said, shaking his head. "No, it will be Kane or Gunny. Of the two I think Kane. He won't like it but Alyssa's patrol is back and she can handle the cavalry well enough. And Kane has worked the most with the militia." He paused on the doorstep and smiled. "The good news is that I've hired a cook. Daneh is. a little encumbered and Rachel has many virtues but her cooking is not one of them."

  He led them into the house and Herzer was oddly comforted. The house where he had convalesced was as much home as the barracks, more so. He realized, not for the first time but perhaps for the first time so forcefully, that he had not had a true home since his parents "gave him his freedom" at fourteen. Edmund's house was as close as it got.

  "First, let's get you out of that armor," Edmund said. "Then you can have a cup of wine and a bath."

  "I think there are some things around that might fit you," Daneh said, sitting down in one of the chairs and cradling her stomach. "Oh, I thought if I had to walk one more step I was just going to have the baby right then. I cannot wait to have this thing out of me!"

  "I'll get the stuff for Herzer," Rachel said.

  "I'm first for the bath," Bast said, starting to strip off her limited clothing as she walked towards the bathing room. "Saving boy-toys is sweaty work!"

  Edmund helped Herzer out of his armor and then unstuck the leather and cloth from the wound on his side. "That's the problem of articulated armor; a well-placed thrust can get up under it."

  "Why do we use it, then?" Herzer asked, grimacing as the baron applied a pungent and stinging salve to the wound.

  "It's better for marching and digging forces," Edmund said. "Bending to do anything in plate or even just a full cuirass is a pain in the ass. This is armor for working infantry. And in battle most enemies don't get a chance for a measured upward thrust."

  "What about putting mail underneath?" Herzer asked.

  "Well, you can get some if you want the additional weight," Edmund nodded as he finished tying the bandage around Herzer's ribs. "That's up to you."

  Herzer thought about all the weight the Blood Lords already carried and grimaced. "Good point."

  "No armor is perfect," Edmund said. "It all involves compromise. All you can do is figure out which compromise is better or worse."

  "A bit like life, then," Herzer chuckled.

  "Well, I'm glad you find something funny," Rachel said as she entered the room, her arms full of clothes.

  "Things could be worse," Herzer said.

  "How?"

  "I don't know," he replied with a grin. "But I'm sure we'll find out."

  "Men," Rachel said with a shake of her head. "Next I suppose you'll go jump in the bath with Bast."

  "Well, I've jumped in the bath with you before," Herzer pointed out.

  "That's different," Rachel snapped, then left the room, her feet slapping the tile as she walked.

  "What was that all about?" Edmund asked then shook his head. "Never mind. Which reason for her to be upset was that about?"

  "All of them?" Herzer replied. "I think much of it is that you might have forgiven me for running out on Mistress Daneh, but Rachel will never forgive me for letting her mother be raped."

  Edmund's jaw worked for a moment before he nodded acceptance. "Maybe not now, but in time. I know that you're. friends."

  "Yes, that is exactly what we are," Herzer sighed, looking at the door through which the girl had retreated. "Friends." He shrugged his shoulders and then grinned. "But, on the other hand, she's such a good friend she made an excellent suggestion. So if you don't mind, sir, I'm going to go take a bath."

  "Supper's in about thirty minutes," Edmund pointed out. "You'll have to be. quick."

  "I'm far too tired for anything but a bath," Herzer replied with all the dignity he could muster.

  "Sure," Edmund chuckled. "Like I don't remember being seventeen. And, you forget, I knew Bast before you were born."

  Realizing he was defeated, Herzer shrugged his shoulders, picked up the pile of clothes and headed for the bath.

  * * *

  By unspoken consent the conversation at dinner avoided the topic of the impending battle. They talked about the increase to the sawmill, in which Herzer had a stake, and the expanding smithies and foundries. There were iron deposits on Massan Mountain still, despite its being heavily worked in the past, and some people were considering opening them, but Edward wasn't convinced it was worth it.

  "Angus has access to already refined steel; all he has to do is rework it. And that mountain of his is shot through with ores. For that matter, the deposits in the valley are of an ore that is hard to form; it requires much higher heats and forging times than the western deposits. The trick is, we need a better system to access Angus' supplies."

  "He lives near some rivers, doesn't he?" Herzer said, recalling a map he'd seen of the area.

  "He does, but the river runs far to the north and into lands that are neutral at best and some of them are held by Paul's supporters. But there's an old road that contacts the Poma River. And that leads to the Shenan. I think getting that road up and running and a good system of boats is the better answer."

  "There's not a town at the joining of the rivers," Herzer mused. "It would be worthwhile to start one there."

  "I think we'll see what comes on its own," Edmund said as the cook brought out the desserts. "Oh, lovely."

  "And thank you, mistress, for that delightful meal," Herzer said, nodding at the cook who was probably thrice his age but looked no more than twenty. "What was the meat? It was wonderful."

  "Emu," the cook replied with a wink. "It's hard to cook because it's tough as nails. But if you put it in my special sauce and stew it well it's fine."

  "And what is this?" Herzer asked. The small cakes were golden brown on the outside with a small white star on the top of each.

  "Semolina," the cook replied. "Rough milled grain, that is. Cooked with honey and butter and mixed with pine nuts."

  "Delicious," Bast said, her mouth full. "And I'm glad to see that you're eating well as well, Daneh."

  "Oh, everything I can get," the doctor replied, taking one of the cakes and licking a drop of honey off her hand. "But it gives me some terrible indigestion sometimes. I swear, sometimes it feels like this kid's hair is in my stomach, I have no idea why."

  "Thank you, mistress," Edmund added as the cook set out a pot of herbal tea. He sighed as she left and he filled a cup. "This is a damned poor substitute for real tea," he grumped. "I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to take ship to the far Indies and find a tea plantation. Or found one if I must."

  "I think we need you too much here, dear," Daneh said with a chuckle. "Some day, maybe, someone else will take up the quest."

  "Speaking of forlorn quests," Rachel said. "What are you planning?"

  Edmund hesitated and took another sip of tea, then shook his head. "I generally don't talk about my plans, Rachel. Even to friends."

  "Why?" Herzer asked.

  Edmund paused again and then shrugged. "You'd be surprised how much intelligence plays a part in successful operations. I don't want there to be any chance for the enemy to know what I plan, or even how I plan it. Look at that rabbit coming in with their plans. The rest. I think you'll learn in time."

  "You think there are spies in Raven's Mill?" Rachel asked.

  "No, not yet," Edmund said. "And if there were, Dionys wouldn't know how to use them. But there are woodcutters and scavengers up in the hills that Dionys might capture and. question. I know that you will not be talking widely, but if I don't even tell my closest confidantes, nobody can get upset if I don't tell them. So I tell no one."

  * * *

  Later
, after the wine had been served and cleared away Edmund stood up and looked around. "I give you the forces of the Kingdom of Free States," he said, raising his glass of brandy. "May they always side with the right."

  "Hear, hear," Herzer replied, somewhat muzzily; he had had a bit too much of the wine.

  "And with that, I think that we should all get some sleep," Edmund continued. "It's going to be an early day tomorrow."

  "Herzer, you take Rachel's room," Daneh said. "She can take mine. I'll sleep with Edmund."

  "Good," Bast said with a nod. "Glad I am to hear that. Come on, Herzer, I need to go tuck you in bed."

  "I think you're a few letters of the alphabet away," Herzer said, chuckling.

  "For that maybe I will just tuck you in bed!"

  "Why am I getting kicked out?" Rachel asked.

  "Because my bed is a single," Daneh chuckled. "Herzer, by himself, would have a hard time fitting in it. And I doubt he's going to be by himself!"

  "Not if I have anything to do about it," Bast smiled. "Come on, lover boy, time to see how tired you are."

  * * *

  Edmund poured himself a small measure of brandy instead of leaving immediately and waved the bottle at Daneh.

  "No more for me," she said, then thought better of it and held out her glass. "Herzer is starting to remind me a bit of Gunny."

  "He's. a lot like Gunny when Miles was much younger," Edmund agreed. "Up to and including the lack of self-confidence."

  "Now that, in Gunny, is hard to believe."

  "Gunny is a character."

  "Yeah, I'd sort of noticed."

  "Noticed but not understood. There is a person called Miles Rutherford. And then there is the character Gunny. But Miles has done the character for so long that, like a good character actor, he's sort of assumed the role. I don't know if Gunny believes he's the reincarnation of a Marine Corps gunnery sergeant from world war two. But that is what he is. He lives every day as he envisions such a person would live. He has done that for nearly a hundred and fifty years. And before that he was a Roman centurion, doing the same thing. The only reason he switched was that he became convinced that the Marines had studied the centurions and improved upon them. He once talked about getting modified so that he could eat steel and shit nails. I have no idea why or what it means! For his period, Gunny is much more informed than I am."

  "That would be. that would be a major mod," Daneh said, after contemplating the image with a grimace.

  "Yeah I know."

  "Steel teeth. ?" she mused.

  "No, have to be diamond or something." Edmund said with a smile.

  "Tough mod. you could construct some gut nannites to. Oh, never mind!" she ended with a grin.

  "Herzer can learn a lot from Gunny," Edmund said, looking off into the distance. "Gunny. well, he's been in situations that almost no one else in this world has and come back. On the other hand, if Herzer had learned a lot from Gunny before. your incident, Herzer would be dead and otherwise things would be the same."

  "I was raped. You can say it, Edmund."

  "No, you can say it. I still can't. In some ways you're stronger than me. You walked away from. from us when you knew it was right. I never could."

  "And I walked back," she said, taking his hand, "when I knew it was right. It's late, Edmund. Come to bed."

  "Are you sure?" he asked, looking at her in the torchlight. "The last time didn't go so well."

  "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."

  * * *

  "Well, here we are again," Herzer said, stroking Bast's cheek.

  "We've never done it in this bed," Bast replied with a grin. "I'm sure I'd remember!"

  Herzer wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down on top of him, nibbling at her shoulder. "You know what I mean."

  "And I also know that you'd rather Rachel were still in it."

  He lifted her up to where he could see her face but she was still grinning. He ran his hand across her face and twined a bit of her hair into his fingers. "You know I love you." he said.

  "Sure," Bast said with an irrepressible smile. "Although, 'lust for you' is what you're really thinking. You love Rachel."

  "Well."

  "Don't bother trying to lie to me," Bast said again, shaking her head. "Agggh, Ghorbani women! They'll be the death of me yet! First it was Sheida slipping away with Edmund and then Daneh."

  "Sheida? The council member?"

  "Hai, she was a right vixen in her day," Bast frowned for a moment. "There I was, having my way with Sir Edmund, and suddenly he up and disappears. Over in the bushes with that tramp Sheida! And then she introduces him to her sister and it's like somebody hit him in the middle of the eyes with a mace! And now Rachel! May they all develop spots."

  "Bast."

  "Tell me, Herzer," she said, smiling again. "If you had the choice of being in bed, tonight, with either me, Bast, the queen of all that is of the body, a thousand-year-old-lover who can squeeze the last dregs of pleasure from your body, or a callow youth who has, okay, decent hair and larger breasts, which would you choose?"

  Herzer looked at her wide-eyed for a moment and then sighed. "Both?"

  "Oh, you are a bastard!" Bast said with a chuckle as she struck him in the sternum.

  "Bast." he said.

  "Don't whine." The elf smiled. "I do not intend leaving this bed before morning nor shall you be tossed from it. It is fine that you care for Rachel. She is a sweet and loving girl."

  "Who looks right through me," Herzer said. "She hates me for not saving Daneh. I hate me for not saving Daneh, so I know how she feels."

  "You think you know how she feels," Bast said. "But you've never asked her how she feels."

  "It's pretty obvious."

  "Maybe to you. I see a young woman who is terribly challenged by the life she's been thrust into and who looks upon you as a friend. One with faults, some of them aggravating faults, but I don't think she hates you."

  "Really?" Herzer said, his face lighting up.

  "Oh, great," Bast replied. "You're ready to go charging into her room right now!"

  "Only to see if I could drag her back," he joked and raised his arms against blows that were surprisingly painful.

  "Just for that I shall do the position of the Three Swans," Bast said, her eyes shooting lightning.

  "Ah! No! Mercy!" Herzer chuckled.

  "You laugh, but I shall have no mercy on you!" she replied, shifting lower. "And let me just see if I can get a red-haired young lady out of your mind!"

  "Who?" Herzer laughed then involuntarily sucked in a breath of air. "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

  * * *

  The torchlit departure of the main guard force was surprisingly well attended; it seemed that everyone who was packed into the town had turned up.

  "Myron, you and Daneh are in charge of the town while I'm gone," Edmund said, quietly. "At least the administrative side. Kane is charge of defense. And the administration is: give Kane whatever he needs to defend the town."

  "Okay, Edmund," the farmer said unhappily.

  "Kane knows his part of the plan. Just give him what he needs."

  "Will do."

  He turned to Daneh and smiled. "Off to the wars."

  "Swaggerer," she said, handing him a small wooden box.

  He opened it up and wrinkled his brow at the device within. It appeared to be a set of spectacles set in a metal frame that was padded by stitched cosilk to fit against the skin. "And what is this?"

  "I took an old set of your glasses and had Suwisa make it," she replied. "It's designed to go under your helmet. You know you're blind as a bat beyond fifty feet without your glasses."

  "Thank you," he said with a chuckle. "You were right, I should have had my eyes adjusted back when."

  "I'm always right," she said. "Take care of yourself, Edmund Talbot."

  "Will do, Mistress Ghorbani," he replied, holding out his arms. "Do I get a kiss?"

  "How about half a kiss," she
said, hugging him against her swollen belly and pecking him on the cheek. "You get the rest when you're back, safe and sound."

  * * *

 

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