John Ringo: Emerald Sea

“Leave it to you to have a better barn than you do a house,” Herzer chuckled.

“That’s what Courtney keeps saying,” Mike replied. “But we’re not made of money.”

The woman in question came out the door as Herzer was loosening Diablo’s saddle. She was a short, buxom woman with fiery red hair and an open, smiling face. Having watched her negotiate, Herzer was well aware that that heart-shaped face masked a mind like a razor, but he was fairly sure the smile in this case was genuine.

“Herzer,” she yelled, pulling her skirts away from the child at her side and running to the hitching post. “Where did you come from?”

“Harzburg,” he said, picking her up and kissing her on the cheek. As he did he noticed a decided roundness to her abdomen. “Got another one in the oven?”

“Yes,” she said with a tone of asperity. “This will make three.”

“Three?” he asked then nodded. “I hadn’t realized I’d been gone that long.”

“Little Daneh is in the crib,” she said, gesturing at the child that was still hiding by the door. “Mikey, come here. This is our friend Herzer.”

The boy shook his head and then, as her face clouded up, darted in through the door.

“I doubt he’s used to strangers in armor at his door,” Herzer said then frowned. “I hope he doesn’t get familiar with strangers in armor at his door.”

“Trouble?” Mike asked.

“Not down here that I’ve heard,” Herzer said. He finished loosening Diablo’s saddle and lifted all the gear off, then led the horse to the trough and tied him off. “That was why I was up in Harzburg. Tarson had been taken over by a band of brigands, for want of a better term. They had been raiding Harzburg and the city fathers requested federal help. They got me.”

“That must have been a pleasure for them,” Mike said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, they’d requested a century of Blood Lords, as if we have a century of trained Blood Lords to send. And they had a militia but they’d never founded a local Blood Lord chapter. Or even sent anyone to the Academy. So I got to go whip them into shape.” Herzer laid his saddle, tack and blanket on a railing, then grabbed the rest with his hook and slung it over his shoulder. “Lead on, Macduff!”

“How’d it go?” Courtney asked as they went in the house. She brought over a flagon and set it on the table, then laid out cold pork, cheese and bread.

“Thank you,” Herzer said, taking a slice of the cheese. It was sharp and tangy and went well with a slice of the cold pork. “I’d thought about eating on the road but I figured I’d stop by and you might be willing to feed me something other than monkey on a stick.”

“Not a problem.” She smiled, nibbling at the cheese herself. “And I repeat, how’d it go?”

“Well, it was a little sticky to start,” Herzer admitted. “They’d expected someone… older.”

Mike chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve got the silver sword and the laurel of valor.”

“Which meant just about nothing to most of them,” Herzer said around a mouthful of cheese and bread. “So I just worked at it until they realized they could do it my way or die. I made it pretty clear I didn’t care which. The Tarsons finally attacked the town, where we wiped out most of their fighters, then more or less walked in and took Tarson over. The leader of them had set up a ‘citadel’ made of a free-standing stockade and a couple of log blockhouses. They burned quite nicely with the application of a little tallow and brush.” He frowned at the memory, then shook his head.

“You make it sound easy,” Mike said.

“Easy. Yeah. Only took me a year and a half.” Herzer shook his head again and took another bite of the pork. “Nice. So what’s been happening around here?”

“It’s been quiet, thank God,” Courtney replied. “We had a petroleum prospecting party through here.”

“I’ve heard about that,” Herzer said. “They sold some processed product to the Academy and we’ve been experimenting with it.”

“Doing what?” Courtney asked.

“Well, it burns a treat,” Herzer said, grimly. “Useful if we can figure out a way to get the burning stuff over there where the bad guys are,” he continued, pointing in a random direction. “There’s a device called a flamethrower that we’re working on. If we perfect it we’re going to have to figure out a new way to fight because it’s going to make tight formations suicidal, especially wearing armor.”

“Ouch!” Courtney said. She shook her head and changed the subject. “The town’s pretty much stopped growing. Hotrum’s Ferry has been drawing off a lot of people. We’re starting to sell a lot of produce down the river.”

“Getting good prices for it, too,” Mike said. “They can ship it up river to the dwarf mines from there more easily than we can truck it from Raven’s Mill.”

“I hope they’ve got decent defenses,” Herzer said. “Paul’s going to make a grab for Norau sooner or later.”

“Well, that’s their beef,” Mike replied. “Were the Tarson brigands working for Paul?”

“We never were sure,” Herzer replied. “If I had to guess I’d say yes. Paul and Chansa have got their fingers in a lot of the pies that are causing us trouble.”

“But it’s settled now?” Courtney asked.

“As far as I can tell.” Herzer shrugged. “The people of Tarson are certainly on the side of light. Harzburg… you can burn the place to the ground for all I give a damn.”

“So are you staying the night?” she pressed.

“No, unfortunately,” the soldier said with a sigh. “My orders were to report ‘without delay.’ So I’m going to have to head into town pretty soon. But I figured I could take enough time to stop by and have some real food at least.” He grinned and carved off another slice of the pork. “You’re both looking good. The farm is looking good. I’m glad.” He chewed on the pork with a thoughtful and sad expression for a moment, then smiled again. “Life could be a hell of a lot worse.”

“Herzer, tell Duke Edmund that he’d better let you get some rest or he’ll be talking to me ,” Courtney said dangerously. “And you had better take it, Herzer Herrick.”

“I will,” Herzer replied, looking around at the low room. It was clean and homey in a way that nothing in his life had been in a long time. It was like a slice of some peaceful place that he was afraid he would be shut out of for all eternity.

“I’ve got to get going,” he said after a bit. “Thanks for lunch. Hopefully we’ll be able to get together some while I’m around.”

“We’ll do that,” Courtney said with a smile. “We’ll make an event of it.”

Herzer grabbed his gear and headed back out to the horse. Diablo looked at him balefully when the gear started going on but the horse sat quietly as Herzer saddled up and loaded item after item.

“Is all that necessary?” Courtney asked.

“Not really,” Herzer said. “I suppose there are things that I could pick up along the way. But I like the tools that I have.”

Finally he was saddled up and gave Courtney a hug and shook Mike’s hand.

“See you in town,” Herzer said, mounting the horse with a grunt. Diablo sighed and shook himself, not so much telling Herzer to get off as settling his own gear to his satisfaction.

“We’ll take care of your farm until it’s time to come home,” Courtney said. “You just come back, okay?”

“Home,” Herzer said, shaking his head. “What an interesting abstract notion.” He smiled and waved as he trotted back down the road.

Herzer turned left and headed south when he reached the road, then quickly moved Diablo to the side as a dispatch rider came trotting from the direction of town. The rider, who was a private in the Federal Army by the look of it, gave him a glance then a salute as he passed. Herzer returned the salute abstractedly, concentrating on a problem.