“I’d heard that everyone else on the team had been rejected,” Katryn blurted out.
“Yes, because you were a team, as was made quite clear at the start. You were not timed as individuals. It was the last person in who counted. But as I said, things like this have happened before, and we don’t fail an entire team because of one member. We can make allowances for unfortunate events, except that the rest of your team carried on as though nothing had happened. Since they didn’t let the incident affect their actions, they disqualified themselves from any special consideration as a result of it. But you gave a remarkable performance, and the tests are more about character than fitness. We can rectify the latter with exercise, but we can do nothing with a woman who’ll abandon her comrades for personal gain.”
Katryn felt her pulse kick as a thought shot through her head: They’re going to accept me. Or are they? The major’s attitude was not that of someone giving good news.
The major carried on talking. “The allowances that can be made aren’t formally specified, and they are at the discretion of the senior recruiting officer. What it boils down to is this: It’s up to me whether you’re in or out. I’ll be quite blunt. If you were an eighteen-year-old who’d applied to the Rangers the day after she’d completed her probation, I’d accept you without a second thought. But you aren’t, and this gives me a problem on two grounds. First, your commitment to the Rangers is in question. I have the impression that you made your application to escape some unpleasantness back home, rather than as a positive choice.” She settled back in her chair, her eyes boring into Katryn. “Do you have anything to say?”
Katryn felt a blush rise on her cheeks, but she could not deny the accusation. “My reasons for leaving the Militia had nothing to do with any trouble relating to my work.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that they were.” The look in the major’s eye hinted that she was fully aware of the truth.
“Also…” Katryn paused, hunting for words. “Just because a woman is eager to join the Rangers doesn’t mean she’s doing it for the right reasons. In my experience, many young women apply because they’re bored in the Militia and are expecting life in the Rangers to be full of excitement and adventure.”
“And you’re not?”
“I’m expecting it to be hard work.”
A suspicion of a smile flicked at the corner of the major’s mouth. “A good answer.” She took a deep breath. “My second concern is about the length of time you have left to serve. You’ve spent nearly nine years in the Militia. By the time you finish your basic training, you’ll have less than five left to go. We would like to see some return on the investment we’d make in training you.”
“I’ve always intended to re-enlist,” Katryn said. In fact, she had planned on completing both of the permitted seven-year extensions to active duty and following them with an administrative post, if she had reached a sufficiently senior rank by the time they expired.
“You might, but we can’t count on it.” The major picked up a few sheets of paper from her desk and began to scan through them, although she clearly was already familiar with the content. “You have shown good general aptitude, and you scored very—no, you scored exceptionally high in archery. That’s always a good skill to have in a Ranger.”
The major turned her head to look out the window, tapping the papers on the desk. Katryn allowed herself a faint grin as she remembered the expression on the face of the Ranger who had assessed her marksmanship when she produced one of the highest scores ever recorded for an applicant. Archery had been her favorite pastime since she was a child. She had won the town competition a record six times in a row.
The waiting dragged out as the major mulled things over, but at last, she turned back, her decision made. For the first time, a true smile showed. “Welcome to Fort Krowe, Ranger.”
*
Katryn spent the next four months at Fort Krowe, going through the initial training program for the Rangers: wilderness crafts and weapons practice. It was four months of hell, exceeding her worst expectations of hard work. Most nights, she stumbled into the bunkhouse with the other trainees, too tired to see straight. She developed an intense personal dislike for all the drill sergeants and devoted much of her spare energy to wishing something nasty would happen to them. However, she knew she was having an easier time of it than many of her co-trainees were.
The assessor who had written that she had “good general aptitude” obviously knew what she was talking about. Katryn was well toward the top of the group in everything except swordsmanship, which she more than compensated for with her skill at archery. It was predicted that she would end up as a squadron’s sharpshooter.
It was shortly after Midwinter’s Day when Katryn completed her training and was issued her kit. The senior drill sergeant personally signed her papers and shook her hand, smiling. This stunned Katryn. For a second, the woman had looked as though she might just possibly be human.
Back in the bunkhouse, Katryn laid the new uniform out on her bed. Unlike the plain green clothes issued to trainees, the shirt and trousers had gray piping to match the gray Ranger’s leather belt and the sleeveless reinforced jacket that offered protection without sacrificing maneuverability. The sword and trail knife were her own personal weapons, rather than the general issue used for training. She also had the wide-brimmed gray Ranger hat.
Katryn lifted up this last item and examined it. A steel cap was sewn inside the crown, with further reinforcement in the brim to protect the face from slashing attacks. Katryn knew that in parts of Landfall, the Militia was also given helmets—but nobody bothered in places that were safe, like Woodside.
Her thoughts slid back. Suppose that she had been wearing a helmet during the encounter with the drunk. She would not have been knocked out, would not have gone home early, would not have found Allison where she did. And would she have been any happier?
Katryn shook her head. Ignorance had never been an option. She was sure that Cy had wanted the affair to come out and had probably pre-planned some big scene. Cy always had gone overboard on drama.
In her new uniform of green and gray, Katryn reported to the main administration office for her posting. Woodside was on the boundary between the regions allocated to Central and Eastern Divisions. Katryn had been asked whether she had any preference and had chosen Eastern out of a desire to get as far away from the drill sergeants as possible.
The clerk in the office riffled through various papers and eventually slid a form toward her. On top of it, the clerk placed two shoulder badges. The insignia was the empty green square worn by privates; beneath it was the designation 12th Squadron.
Katryn picked up the embroidered cloth badges, which she would sew onto her uniform that night. On the paper underneath were her orders.
Ranger Private Katryn Nagata will report to Captain Dolokov of the 12th Squadron, currently posted at Highview Barracks, by 1 February 533.
Chapter Ten—A Lot of Bad Feeling
The town of Highview was the northernmost posting in the region covered by the Eastern Division, and as its name implied, it was situated in the highlands. It was the center of the timber industry for the area upstream of Landfall. In summer, the Liffey would be filled with rafts of logs floating down to the sawmills and timber yards of the city. Now the river was icebound, and the surrounding countryside was smothered under a thick coating of snow, but the roads had been kept clear, and Katryn reached her destination by the specified date.
It was midafternoon when the road finally emerged from the forest and Katryn saw the town perched on the hilltop ahead. The skies were clear, but the smell of more snow carried on the wind. The thought of resting with a hot meal beside a fire was enticing, and even canteen food in a mess hall did not sound too bad.
In her uniform, Katryn drew a fair number of looks as she rode through the streets, although they were less marked than she had become used to on her journey to Highview. Presumably, Rangers were a common sight fo
r the local population. The face of the woman Katryn stopped to ask directions of showed little curiosity. However, it did show a mixture of emotions that set Katryn musing as she rode on.
The black uniform of the Militia was met with fear from those who had a guilty conscience and with relief by people who needed aid. The rest of the time, people simply looked blank, in an attempt not to attract attention. The green and gray uniform of the Rangers produced a markedly different response. The Rangers were respected, of course, particularly in the borderlands, where they risked their lives protecting the ordinary citizens. Katryn was still taken aback by the effect she’d had. The locals had looked at her with admiration, almost deference, and had acted with childlike eagerness to be helpful. Katryn grinned at herself when she realized that without thinking, she was now sitting straighter in the saddle.
The Ranger barracks were set just beyond the town, inside a high wooden stockade. Katryn dismounted at the gates and led her horse by the reins. No sentry was on duty, but her unfamiliar face attracted attention immediately. Another Ranger hailed her, and after a brief discussion, she was escorted farther into the site.
On one side of the road were stables; on the other, buildings that Katryn guessed to be the bunkhouses. After a dozen meters or so, the road opened out into a central parade ground. Directly ahead was a single-story building, which the other Ranger identified as the admin block and officers’ quarters. Katryn tied her horse outside and followed her guide up the short flight of stairs to the open balcony.
Inside the doorway was a long room, the walls lined with books and maps. A desk took up a fair proportion of the floor space. Two officers were seated there, leaning over a report. From their shoulder badges, Katryn saw that one was the 12th Squadron’s lieutenant and the other, a staff sergeant. They broke off their conversation and looked up.
“Ma’am, it’s the new recruit,” Katryn’s guide announced.
“Good.” The lieutenant got to her feet. “Go and find Sergeant Ellis.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The Ranger departed.
Katryn stepped forward, holding out her orders. “Private Nagata reporting, ma’am.”
The lieutenant took the offered sheet and glanced at the contents. Then she raised her head and studied Katryn thoughtfully. It was a two-way exercise. The lieutenant was a thin-faced woman in her early thirties whose air of crisp efficiency struck a slightly false note, as though she were consciously working at it. Katryn wondered what lay underneath.
After a few seconds of silence, the lieutenant put the paper on the desk and began speaking. “Captain Dolokov is currently out on patrol with half the squadron. I am Lieutenant Bergstrom, and I’m in charge of the barracks in the captain’s absence. You are assigned to B Patrol, under Sergeant Ellis, who’ll be here in a moment. She’ll see that you’re allotted a bunk and stabling for your horse. She’ll also instruct you in local procedures and restrictions. If you have any problems, you should report them to—”
She broke off as the door opened again. Lieutenant Bergstrom looked at the new arrival with an involuntary expression of distaste but suppressed it so quickly that Katryn half thought she had imagined it. The woman in the doorway was a sergeant. She was short, stocky and a few years older than Bergstrom. She projected an air of belligerence—which, Katryn realized, was utterly genuine.
“I understand my new recruit has turned up…” The sergeant paused for a fraction of a second. “…ma’am.”
Katryn managed to hide her surprise. The effect of the hesitation was blatantly insolent; however, Lieutenant Bergstrom acted as though she had not noticed. It was obvious that the dislike between the two women was mutual. “Yes, Sergeant Ellis.” Katryn detected an emphasis on the rank. “Private Nagata has just arrived from Fort Krowe. See that she is settled in.” Bergstrom stared coldly at Ellis and then snapped, “Dismissed.”
Katryn followed Ellis out of the building and collected her horse. Obviously, a lot of bad feeling existed between her new sergeant and the lieutenant, which could lead to all sorts of complications. Katryn was determined to keep well out of it.
They were halfway across the parade ground before Ellis spoke. “This your first posting?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You look a bit on the old side for a new recruit.”
“I served nine years in the Militia.”
Ellis came to a standstill as though she had run into a wall, contempt on her face. “Oh, Himoti’s tits. And they thought they’d dump you on us?”
Katryn also stopped, stunned by the speed and vehemence of the reaction. Although the Militia was not held in high regard by the Rangers, she had not expected her long service to be held against her. However, Ellis was acting as though it was an admission of cowardice and incompetence.
Ellis poked her finger into Katryn’s shoulder. “Right. Listen. You’re in the Rangers now. We don’t find lost dogs, and we don’t arrest kids who’ve swiped a few apples from the neighbor’s orchard. If you make a mistake, people are likely to die, yourself being the most probable candidate. You sharpen up. You do what I say, when I say it, and we’ll get along fine. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Katryn said, reining back her flare of anger. She prayed that Ellis’ response was partly displaced hostility from the encounter with Bergstrom; otherwise, life in B Patrol would not be pleasant.
Ellis snorted as though she also foresaw a stormy future and led the way into one of the stables. Two other Rangers were working there. “Sivarajah, Wan, this is—” Ellis broke off and looked to Katryn. “What was your name again?”
Katryn took a deep breath. “Private Katryn Nagata, ma’am.”
The sergeant’s lips showed a faint sneer as she turned back. “Right. Well, our new patrol member is straight out of nine years in the Militia. So she’ll have lots of experience in helping drunks get home, and we all know who that’ll be useful with. Only the Goddess knows what other good she’ll be. Show her where to put her horse, how to take its saddle off…things like that. Sort her out in the bunk room, and I’ll have another chat with her before dinner.” Ellis gave a last, exaggerated sigh and left.
The older of the two Rangers had been standing at the back of the stables, her eyes flitting around nervously, as though she were looking for somewhere to hide. Only when Ellis had gone did she walk forward and stare at the doorway where Ellis had disappeared. The woman’s face held an expression that was hard to read beyond a degree of relief. Her gaze shifted to Katryn.
“Hi. I’m Jan Sivarajah…corporal in B Patrol.” A trace of defensiveness marked her tone as she stated her rank, as though it might be open to dispute. She was at least fifteen centimeters shorter than Katryn, and her build verged on scrawny, giving the impression that she could be knocked over by a stiff breeze. But she had to be tougher than she looked, both physically and mentally, to have lasted in the Rangers. She pointed to the other woman. “That’s Nikki Wan.”
The other Ranger had also wandered over. She was young, barely twenty, and her shoulder badge was blank like Katryn’s. Her face was square, with an adolescent blandness. She nodded in response to her name but said nothing while subjecting Katryn to scrutiny.
Jan Sivarajah combed her hands through her hair, as though she needed to straighten her thoughts, and then dropped her arms with a sigh. “Okay. These are B Patrol’s stables. There’s room for your horse on the right. I assume it was issued to you at Fort Krowe with your kit and isn’t a relay…?” She broke off at Katryn’s nod of confirmation. “Your tack goes in that box there, and brushes are on the shelf above.”
Katryn led her horse to the side of the stables and tied its reins to a ring on the wall. Nikki came up, stood to one side and then spoke for the first time. “You need to loosen that buckle first and then—”
“I know how to unsaddle my horse.” Katryn snapped the words through clenched teeth.
Nikki took a step back, confused. “It’s just...the Militia don’t use horses much, and Serge
ant Ellis said—”
“I know. I heard. Basic training must have become more extensive since whenever you went through it. Now they give lessons in things like caring for horses.” Katryn tried to control her anger, but the sarcasm in her words came out more biting than she had intended.
“Oh, you’ve been through basic training?” Nikki spoke with naïve surprise.
“No, I bribed the major to let me off it.”
The expression on the face of the young Ranger switched from confusion to embarrassment to anger. She squared her shoulders and muttered, “Fine.” Then she turned on her heel and marched away, slamming the stable door behind her.
Katryn set her jaw and returned to her horse. Jan came over and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath, and count to ten. If you’re going to survive in B Patrol, you can’t afford to let Ellis wind you up.” The corporal’s voice was a conspiratorial whisper.
Katryn opened her mouth to speak sharply and then closed it again. Jan was right. Nikki had been trying to be friendly, and now she was probably feeling stupid that she had taken Ellis’ words at face value. A moment’s thought would have told her that Ranger Command would not send out someone who was untrained. Katryn wished that she had also thought before speaking. With a sergeant like Ellis, she knew that she could not afford to start antagonizing the rest of the patrol.
*
Katryn met the other four members of B Patrol at dinner. The Rangers’ mess hall held one long table for each patrol and a smaller one for the officers. With half the squadron gone, two tables were empty. Katryn would have preferred not eating with Sergeant Ellis, but no one showed any wish to spread out; possibly, the rules forbade it. Fortunately, the sergeant finished eating her food quickly and left. In her absence, the atmosphere at the table eased. After a few questions about Katryn’s background, the conversation settled down to banter about longstanding issues, giving Katryn the chance to observe the rest of her new comrades.
Rangers at Roadsend Page 12