Mercedes Lackey - The Price Of Command

He nodded, embarrassed to be equating the kind of bravery that last charge had taken with the sum of two paltry gold pieces. Then again—that’s their job, isn’t it? The laborer is worth the hire. “Where are you going now?” he asked. “We finished this a lot faster than I’d thought we would; it’s barely past Midsummer. Have you got another job lined up?”

She shook her head, which surprised him a little. “We’ll go straight to winter quarters,” she said. “Remember, you hired us before Vernal Equinox because the Prophet had stolen a march on you in the winter; it’s been plenty long enough for us. We don’t need to take another job this season, and we haven’t needed to take winter jobs since the second year I was Captain. Ending early in the season will give us a head start on training the green recruits, schooling new horses, healing up—” She noted his surprise, and chuckled. “That’s right—Tarma never taught you all that, did she? Winter quarters is what makes a good Company stronger. When we can winter up, we get a chance to learn without killing anybody, we get a chance to get everything Healed right. There’s another side of it, too; wintering is where we become—well—a kind of family, if that doesn’t sound too impossible to you. And since the Skybolts don’t need to take the extra jobs anymore, I’ll be damned if I cheat them out of that rest time.”

She fixed him with a sharp glance, a look that told him that if he’d been considering offering them hire for the winter, he’d better change his mind.

But since that wasn’t what he’d had on his mind at all, he smiled right back at her, and her expression softened and relaxed. “Is there any reason why you can’t leave them for a month or two?” he asked, innocently.

“Well, no,” she replied, obviously wondering why he would ask that particular question. She waited for a reply, but he simply smiled at her, until she said, impatiently, “All right! Why do you want to know that ?”

“Because my brother wants to meet you, and this seems like a good time.” He grinned at her blank stare, and continued. “Tarma trained the lot of us, remember? But she trained us a little differently than the way she trained you—she knew you were going to end up a hire-sword, so she gave you things she never gave us. My brother wants to pick your brain.”

“On what?” she asked, with a hint of suspicion.

“Nothing you wouldn’t be willing to tell us,” Daren assured her. “He wants to know about all the bonded Companies doing business, for one thing; things the Guild won’t tell us, like who can’t work with whom, what weaknesses each Captain has. You’re the best, Kero – “

“I don’t take bribes,” she replied harshly. “You won’t get me to tell you Guild secrets.”

“We don’t care about Guild secrets, and it’s not a bribe,” he said quickly. “Just a bonus for the information. Free run through the Royal armory, your choice, whatever you can carry away in three wagon-loads with two-horse teams. We’ve got a lot of good horse-gear in storage, because we don’t have a lot of mounted fighters. Besides, I want to catch up on what’s happened to you the last fifteen years.”

She started to answer, then gave him a careful, measuring look, and hesitated. “Daren,” she said slowly, and a little sadly, “I hope this isn’t a try at reviving the old romance. That’s dead, lad, and there’s no mage with a spell strong enough to resurrect it.”

He stared at her for a moment, at the expression on her face that reminded him irresistibly of someone sitting on a tack, then relieved her by bursting into honest laughter.

“Romance?” he squeaked, unable to get his breath. “Romance? With the Fire-Mare herself? The woman who thinks a seductive garment is one that doesn’t have armor plating on it? With the Captain my own people look to before they trust my strategy?”

Kero stiffened—then, as he continued to howl, began to unbend a little. “Well—”

“Kero, you’re a handsome woman, but gods help me—I don’t fancy sharing my bed-space with you and that—” He pointed, and she turned to see that her sword was lying across her cot with the hilt resting on her pillow as if it were a person. She stared for a moment, then started laughing, too. That set him off again, and after a moment, both of them were so convulsed that they had tears running down their faces.

He recovered enough to wipe his eyes, and handed her the goblet of watered wine on her table so that she could take a drink and get herself under control.

“Goddess, Kero—I never thought you saw me as that much of a romantic!” He chuckled again, and stole the goblet from her for a sip. “No, I promise you—I like you, but you’re the last woman I’d want to have a liaison with. You’re too damned—outrageous.”

She took another sip, and made a face at him. “I did warn you, all those years ago. Still, I’ve learned a few things since then. I can be a lady for a couple of months if—”

“Oh, no,” he interrupted her. “I want you to be yourself; in fact, the wilder, the better. My brother’s looking forward to it. He wants you to shake up his Court a little. He says they could do with some shaking up.”

She threw her head back and laughed whole-heartedly. “All right, then, I’ll take you up on this. I’ll be there before the end of summer, as soon as I get things arranged so I can leave. This may work out really well, actually; the cousins bring horses up every summer, and I always miss them. This time I won’t. I was afraid that when the second batch came up in the fall, my people would still be in the field.”

“Perfect,” he replied happily. “Just send word ahead, so we can give you the proper reception.” She covered a yawn, then, but not before he caught it. “You’re tired,” he said, rising. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“I’d be polite, but I’m too exhausted,” she admitted, as he opened the tent flap. “And—thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Captain,” he said, hesitated a moment more. She still looked—haunted. And he didn’t think it had anything to do with this last battle.

“Kero,” he said, as he held open the tent flap, “I—I don’t know how to ask this discreetly, so I’ll be blunt. Is there something wrong? Something I can help you with? Something personal?”

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes shadow-laden, and looked as if she was about to say something.

But then a clot of her troopers passed by the tent, talking in the slightly-too-loud voices of those who are just drunk enough to be convinced that they’re sober. She jumped, and smiled, with a kind of false brightness.

“Nothing that a few days of rest and a few nights of solid sleep won’t cure,” she said, and waved him away. “Thanks for the concern; I wish all my employers were that interested in my well-being.”

That was a dismissal if ever he heard one. He shrugged and grinned, as he let the entrance flap fall.

He mounted his horse, still being held by the patient sentry, and turned the palfrey’s nose back toward his own camp.

It’s funny. We have become so different in the little things—which is where we used to agree. But in the important things, where we didn’t agree before, now we think exactly the same—responsibility, caring about your people—making sure they get treated right—holding to a personal code—it’s amazing. We’re more alike than ever. And I suspect she figured that out within half a candlemark after we met again.

The Skybolts’ camp had settled; he heard singing, softly, over by one of the fires, and the murmur of conversation somewhere nearby, but there was nothing like the riotous celebrating still going on ahead of him.