Part 51 (1/2)

”According to his column commander, Sergeant Varvaro was in charge of an advance scouting party.

They found a farmhouse, actually a group of them, almost a village. They were checking the buildings for enemy stragglers or partisans, and came upon this woman. Girl, really, perhaps fourteen.

”One of Sergeant Varvaro's men said the girl was almost shaking in fear, but she smiled at the sergeant.

He ordered his troopers out of the house, and told them to check the barns once more.

”They protested, but he said it was a direct order, and so they obeyed.

”A few minutes later, they heard screams, ran back inside, and found the girl naked, moaning, and the sergeant fastening his breeches together.” ”How is the girl now?”

Domina Pete shrugged. ”I can't say. Captain Dangom found a witch in another village, and we took the girl to her. The witch said she will recover.”

”Varvaro, is this the truth?” I snapped. ”Sir, I thought th' b.i.t.c.h wanted it,” he said, not lifting his eyes to meet me. ”She was leadin' me on.”

”What does that matter? No means no. Look at me, Sergeant.”

Varvaro reluctantly raised his eyes.

”Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

There was a long pause. Finally: ”Nossir. I guess not.

But... but I ain't had none since Nicias, an' s.h.i.+t like that clouds th' mind.”

”You knew the penalty for rape,” I said, unwavering. ”The people of the land are still Numantians, even though they gave fealty to Chardin Sher. Your duty as a soldier-as a warrant- is to protect the innocent, not ravish them.”

”Yessir. But, sir...please, sir.” Naked fear was in his stare. I met it, held it, and once more his gaze fell.

”Domina Petre, all is in order. Carry out the sentence!”

”Yes sir!”

An hour later what elements of the regiment that could be a.s.sembled were in formation in front of a tall oak, its branches bare against the gray autumn sky. Varvaro was led out, his hands tied behind him. He saw the dangling noose and began crying. They had to lift him onto his horse. The noose was draped about his neck, in spite of his efforts to duck, a hood drawn over his face, and a quirt lashed against the horses flanks.

The horse whinnied, leaped forward, and Varvaro was yanked from the saddle, the noose pulled taut.

His untied legs flailed against the air, and he twisted, slowly strangling. Against orders a warrant ran forward, grabbed his legs, pulled, and I heard the snap of his neck breaking.

A hard death from a hard law in a hard war.

I rode back to my headquarters in silence, and Lance Kar-jan, riding behind me, was equally still.

A wonderful story ran round the army within a day of its occurrence: A carriage had been stopped by skirmishers, a carriage that obviously belonged to someone wealthy.

Inside was a very beautiful woman, in her early twenties, and several trunks of clothing.

She announced she was Sikri Jabneel, yes,the Sikri Jabneel, and was to be taken to the seer-general at once. None of the foot soldiers had heard of her, but they figured it was best to be gentle with anyone who looked to be as wealthy as she did. She was pa.s.sed back through the lines, after both she and her belongings were thoroughly searched, to indignant squeals, and eventually taken to the Seer Tenedos's command area.

She was repeatedly asked what she wanted with Tenedos, and said her wishes were for his eyes only.

I suppose Tenedos's curiosity was roused-she was, and as far as I know still is, very gorgeous and most charming. I also suppose, after the letter from Landgrave Malebranche, that he put out all the sorcerous wards he could think of before going to her, to make sure she wasn't an a.s.sa.s.sin sent by Chardin Sher.

I do not know, and would very much like to, who was listening to what happened. Tenedos never told me of the incident, nor did Sikri, and Captain Othman never discussed his personal business. But someone's ears were close to the canvas wall of the tent that afternoon.

Tenedos introduced himself, and the woman did as well, expressing her pleasure at his giving her the time, and complimenting him liberally. He asked what she wished, and she pretended mock indignation that he' d never heard of her. She was the toast of Polycittara, indeed, of all Kallio, had even sung her songs in Nicias itself twice, and appeared in a masque before the Rule of Ten. Tenedos, always civil, apologized for his ignorance, and once more, a little wearily, inquired her business.

She giggled, and said that, well, she'd heard so much about him, even though that terrible Chardin Sher forbade any mention of the seer, and desired to see what he was made of for herself. 'Tor,” she said, and her words were always told exactly, ”I fancy great men, and I have sensed, even though I have no more of the Talent than any of us who play the part of others for only a night, true greatness about you.”

Tenedos ignored the compliment. ”So Chardin Sher is still in Polycittara?”

”As far as I know,” Sikri said, ”although I care little about that man, nor about his piddly little city or his piddly little ambitions. I have renounced them, for I am no traitoress, but a true Numantian, and wish to do all I can to help the cause, and bind up the wounds of our poor country.”

A good storyteller could relate this in ringing tones, and suggest that Sikri may have been modifying a speech she'd learned sometime earlier for a stage role.

Tenedos wondered exactly what contributions she thought she could make.

”Why,” she said, her voice now a purr, ”I was told that you have no one to share your troubles with, no one to help you carry the burden of your duties.”

”You mean,” Tenedos said, ”you want to sleep with me.”

Sikri giggled. ”Is that not the best way a woman can help a man?”

There came avery long silence, and the unnamed eavesdropper must have a.s.sumed the lewdest. But then Tenedos spoke: ”I am deeply honored, my lady. But you should be aware I plan on marriage when this campaign is over, and frankly consider myself affianced.”

”What of it,” Sikri said. ”Is a prize stallion content with only one mare?”

Again, silence, and then a shout for Captain Othman. The singer started to become angry, but Tenedos told her to be silent. Within a few minutes the little adjutant bustled in.

”Captain, this is Sikri Jabneel.”

”Pleased, my lady.”

”She wished to help our cause to victory. I have accepted. Lady Jabneel, if you wish to remain with us, you may do so, as Captain Othman's leman, under his protection.”

”But-”

”Either that, or you shall be escorted out of our lines within the hour and sent back to Polycittara. The choice is yours.”

Tenedos left the tent, and the listener must have had to flee, because nothing was ever reported as to what next happened between Othman and the singer.

But an hour later her baggage was moved into the adjutant's tent, and when the army moved out the next day, she rode happily in his staff carriage, the only woman with the army.