Lady Knight. Tamora Pierce

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      In a day or two she’d start riding the country until she knew it like her palm. She’d make sure the refugees and soldiers knew it, too. Standing over the gate, she stared blankly into the distance as she made plans. They’d have to know the roads and trails to Forts Mastiff, Steadfast, and Giantkiller, and their escape routes to the south. She was lucky to have local people inside her walls. They’d know the hidden and not-so-hidden trails, bogs, pitfalls, and canyons around here, as well as the best hunting and fishing areas.

      She realized the captain was speaking. ‘What? I’m sorry, Captain Elbridge. I was thinking.’

      A corner of his mouth twitched – in amusement or scorn? wondered Kel. ‘I was asking if the lady knight had chosen a name,’ Elbridge repeated.

      ‘A name for what?’ Kel asked, looking at him blankly.

      ‘This place. We call it “this miserable mudpit”, but my lady will be living here. It’s your privilege to name it as you like,’ explained the captain.

      Kel turned, her hands jammed into her breeches pockets, and surveyed her command. Men crawled over beams, hammered, sawed, unloaded wagons, called out to each other, visited the latrines. Wyldon, Baird, Neal, and Merric were emerging from headquarters. She glanced at the road below: here came the sledge with its military guard and its load of cut trees.

      ‘I suppose “Mudpit” is a little depressing,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll have to think about it.’

      The captain bowed. ‘Very good, milady.’

      They descended the stairs near the guard shack as the gates swung open. The sledge made its slow way inside the walls.

      ‘I see you’ve conducted your first inspection,’ Wyldon said to Kel. ‘What do you think?’

      ‘Captain Elbridge has done far more than I could imagine,’ Kel said honestly. For a hard, cold fish, she thought. ‘I’ll be hard put to keep up his good work.’ As soon as I’ve thrown his whip into the compost heap, where it’ll be of use, she added silently.

      ‘We’ve plenty of work to do in the infirmary,’ Duke Baird said. ‘But I’ve seen the plans. It looks good.’

      Elbridge shrugged. ‘It’s these northern woodsmen. If they could find a way to eat trees as well as work them, they’d be rich men. Still, I confess, I’ll be pleased to be working only with soldiers again. These civilians are too contrary for my taste.’

      He, Baird, and Wyldon turned away to discuss matters relating to the new Fort Mastiff while Neal and Merric automatically looked at Kel. ‘I feel as ready for all this as a babe who picks up a sword,’ Merric said with a twisted smile. ‘Of course, Neal is ready—’

      ‘Mithros save us, they’ll allow just any freak of nature up here, won’t they?’ a familiar male voice proclaimed. Kel, Merric, and Neal turned to see the speaker. One of the sledge guards, a tall, broad-shouldered young man, dismounted from his horse. Bright blue eyes blazed and a broad grin flashed in a face splattered with mud. Under other mud Kel could see the familiar tunic, chain mail, and armband of a sergeant in the King’s Own. ‘Meathead!’ he called, handing his reins to a guard. ‘They sent you out with no keeper?’

      Neal laughed and strode forward to hug the slightly taller man despite the mud. Kel almost ran to the newcomer as well, remembering just in time that a commander couldn’t throw herself at an old friend. She knew Domitan of Masbolle, Neal’s cousin and a sergeant of the King’s Own, very well indeed. They’d become friends during her four years with the King’s Own. She’d had a terrible, unreturned, crush on him – he was handsome, mud or no.

      Neal pushed Dom away. ‘Insubordinate!’ he scoffed. ‘That’s Sir Meathead, to you. What have you been doing, chasing mudhoppers?’

      ‘It’s a skin treatment. I’ve got so chapped here in the north,’ retorted Dom. He turned to Kel and bowed. ‘Lady knight,’ he said, and straightened with a wide grin. ‘You did it. We knew you would.’

      Kel reached out her hand; they clasped forearms, Dom squeezing hers tightly before he let go.

      Another voice sounded out. ‘Squire Kel – I mean, lady knight!’ The other men who’d been guarding the sledge came over. Kel cheerfully shook hands with each of them, Dom’s squad in the King’s Own. One hot day the previous summer, at a place called Forgotten Well, she had commanded these men after an arrow shot had put Dom out of action. Both Wolset and Fulcher now wore mud-splashed armbands with the circle mark for a corporal. Dom had lost one corporal before he’d been wounded; the second was killed after Kel took command. She’d given Wolset a field promotion to corporal for keeping his head, and Dom had confirmed it. Two of the other six men before her she did not know. They simply bowed to her and stayed back, watching with interest.

      ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ she asked Dom when the greetings were over.

      ‘Lord Wyldon asked for one of our squads to work here till the place is finished, since we’ve been in the area almost a year. It’s just coincidence that my boys got tapped,’ Dom told her. ‘Have you seen Giantkiller? Just when we got the place all fixed up, the regular army kicked us out. I bet they ruined all of our chair cushions.’

      ‘I noticed a sad lack of taste,’ Neal said in his usual drawl, ‘but I supposed it was left over from when the King’s Own lived there.’

      Dom grinned, then looked at Kel. ‘Do you like your flag?’ he asked.

      She smiled at him with all the gratitude in her heart. ‘I love it,’ she told him.

      ‘He don’t get all the credit,’ Corporal Wolset said. ‘It was me that thought of it.’

      ‘And you what nearly ruined the embroidering,’ retorted Corporal Fulcher.

      Dom cleared his throat. ‘Here comes command. We’ll talk later, Lady Kel, Sir Meathead.’ He waved his squad back to the sledge. They helped the civilians unload the logs.

      ‘That was friendly,’ Merric remarked, folding his arms.

      ‘They’re from Third Company,’ Kel said. ‘We rode together for four years.’

      ‘Dom’s squad fought one of the metal killing devices under Kel’s command.’ Neal’s voice sounded clearly over the racket of nearby hammers and saws. His wry tone told Kel what he thought of her not mentioning such important specifics. ‘Dom got shot; they lost two men.’

      ‘And it took all of us to beat the cursed thing,’ Kel retorted, wishing Neal hadn’t spoken. It seemed like bragging, even if it was Neal’s comment, not hers.

      ‘You fought one of those things?’ Elbridge demanded, hard eyes fixed on Kel.

      She was starting to feel cross. She didn’t want to boast. Wolset had trapped the thing’s head as the other men roped its limbs. Still, she didn’t appreciate the captain’s disbelief, either. ‘Together with Sergeant Domitan’s squad, captain,’ she replied, locking her hands behind her back as a reminder to keep her face and voice bland and polite. ‘None of us wants to repeat it.’

      ‘Mithros witness that,’ murmured Duke Baird.

      Wyldon and the captain СКАЧАТЬ