“No, she wouldn’t have. But you have to admit that it is more proper than having her sharing someone’s bedroll tonight, no matter how she feels about it.” Jennin sighed and shook her head. “Appearances!”
* * *
Morning found Java, Jah’Moke, and Cah’Fene among the Firewalkers as they rode out. Lieutenant Norstrand and the others who were fit to travel rode with Captain Corban. When Java introduced Cah’Fene to her friends, he found himself being inspected like a young stallion.
Grinning at Jah’Moke he asked, “Do I have to behave with these women, Brother?” in Latté, not realizing that most of the Firewalkers spoke at least some Latté. The roar of laughter from those who were close enough to hear surprised him, and Jah’Moke shook his head.
“Have fun but be careful. Some of these women are a bit rough,” Jah’Moke replied, grinning at Ari.
Ari laughed, and replied in Latté, “I’m not rough. Just enthusiastic.”
Java led the column south toward Linkville. Jennin and her command were not quite late in relieving Maren and her women, but they would be if they went back to Whitehall first. They were met by Mesta while still a full day from Linkville.
“Java, are you all right? We didn’t get much in the way of details,” Mesta shouted before she reached the column.
Java waved and waited until Mesta was closer before answering. “Yes, I’m fine. What are you doing so far out, Mesta?”
“What do you think? Lieutenant Kelvin has had the entire command out in force ever since we got the warning. We’re spread pretty thin, but there are always ten of us together,” Mesta said as she slid Silky in beside Sugar. Leaning over she hugged Java without stopping. “We were so worried about you,” she whispered.
Java returned the hug. “No need. Lieutenant Norstrand and his men did a good job. Four of them died, but Jah’Moke, Cah’Fene and I were not hurt.”
“Who?” Mesta asked, looking into Java’s eyes.
“Jah’Moke’s little brother. He’s in the back with Beth and Shavrin,” Java said with a grin. “And a few others. The boy hasn’t slept much this trip.”
Mesta giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Looking over at Jah’Moke, she bowed her head in greeting. “Hello, Jah’Moke. It’s nice to see you again.”
Jah’Moke returned the nod. “And you, Mesta.” Nine more women joined the column briefly, greeting their friends, then Mesta led them back out away from the road. They had a patrol to complete.
The column traveled on, not stopping except to eat. The sun was low in the west before they reached Linkville. Another group of women greeted them as they topped the rise above town. This time Marta and Maren led, and Java was caught in a hug between them. “Oh, Java, we were so worried,” Marta whispered, then leaned back a little to look Java in the eye. “Next time send a more detailed report. If Jennin hadn’t already gone after you, we would have. The whole command has been worried sick.”
“We’re fine, Sir. I lost four of my Guardsmen, but we killed all of Frander’s men,” Java replied, straightening to give her report. “We were unable to determine if there were any other groups in the duchy.”
Marta nodded. “We have everyone out scouting the countryside right now.” Turning to Jennin, she nodded. “Lieutenant Tahoe, I want your women out as soon as they are rested. Duke Arten wants a sweep of the entire duchy. There are Guard units starting down from the north, so we are working up.”
Jennin snapped a salute and a grin at her former captain. “Yes, Lady Freeholm. The duke informed us of his plans before we left Whitehall. We’ll begin sending out teams tomorrow morning.”
Java remained wedged between Marta and Maren until they reached the Firewalker Compound. Captain Corban joined them as they reached the gates, riding up past the column to slide in beside Maren. “Princess Java, I hope you’re planning to stay in the fort tonight.”
“Yes, Lord Captain Corban, that was my intention,” Java replied primly. She still hated being called princess by her friends.
Stephen grinned, then nodded to the women beside Java. “Lady Freeholm, Lieutenant Kelvin, it’s nice to see you again. My men and I will be in town.” After receiving nods from both women, he left, satisfied that Java was safe. The Guardsmen rode on past the road to the compound as the Firewalkers entered the gates. Java relaxed a great deal when the gates closed behind her and the great bar was lowered into place.
Java saw to the stabling of Sugar herself, Jah’Moke, and Cah’Fene choosing stalls to either side of her for Joh and Chuff. When they emerged, they were met by Marta and the lieutenants.
“I want you on the inner side of the Officer’s Quarters, Java,” Marta said, looking into Java’s eyes.
“But, Sir...”
“Officer’s Quarters, Java. It’s the most secure building,” Marta interrupted. “Besides, do you really want these two in the barracks? No one would get any sleep.” She grinned at Jah’Moke and Cah’Fene.
Java thought about that for a second, then giggled. “No, I think I want Jah’Moke closer than that. And Cah’Fene needs some rest.”
“I do not!” Cah’Fene said, his wide grin and wider eyes making Java giggle more.
Jennin laughed at that. “You may not, but my girls do. They’re on patrol at first light.”
Cah’Fene bowed low, crossing his arms over his chest. “As you wish, Lieutenant Tahoe.”
Java and Jah’Moke were both taken by surprise by Cah’Fene’s deference and respect toward Jennin but didn’t say anything. They followed Maren up to a room overlooking the compound. Java was surprised when she walked in the door.
“This looks like a plain old double, Sir.”
Maren grinned at still being called sir by a princess. “It is, Java. What did you expect?”
Java shrugged, looking about the room. “I don’t know. I just thought Officer’s Quarters were...I don’t know. Special somehow.”
“It’s the woman in the room who is special, Java,” Marta said from behind her. “Not the room the woman is in.”
Java grinned and looked at the floor. “Yes, Sir.” Looking back up she addressed Lieutenant Tahoe. “Would it be possible to put Cah’Fene across the hall, Lieutenant?”
Jennin nodded and opened the door. “This will do nicely,” she said, looking the boy in the eye. “Keep your weapons in your room, Cah’Fene. And don’t go out of the building without an escort. None of Maren’s women know you.”
“Yes, Sir,” Cah’Fene said softly, his eyes on Jennin’s.
Cah’Fene’s reaction to Jennin had the rest of the women looking at one another while Jah’Moke just grinned. Marta cleared her throat to get Jennin and Maren’s attention.
“We have arrangements to make, ladies. Java, get cleaned up and meet us in the captain’s office. I’ll ask the Quartermasters to see to your things.”
“Yes, Sir,” Java replied automatically. Dropping her saddlebags on one bed she pulled out a clean blouse and pants. “Come on, Jah’Moke. We should get our baths over first, so the rest of the command can bathe without having their eyes popping out.”
Jah’Moke laughed and called to Cah’Fene to join them. In the bathing room Java found herself blushing slightly because of Cah’Fene’s presence. Neither man seemed to notice, so she just concentrated on keeping her eyes on Jah’Moke. Their baths were completed quickly, none of them wanting to delay the meeting or the other women who were waiting to use the bathing room, and they made their way to the office.
Marta waved them to seats at the table and nodded. “We’re waiting on Jennin. Cah’Fene, I’m pleased to meet you. It seems that good looks run in your family.”
Cah’Fene bowed his head, though Java couldn’t tell if it was in thanks or from embarrassment. “I am honored, Lady Captain Freeholm. Carr’Bon Veer speaks of you with great respect.”
Marta smiled at that, then looked at Java. “How sure are you that they were really Scouts, and not just bandits with Frander’s weapons?”
Java
stood and came to attention to report, a move that had her seniors smiling. “Sir, the men we killed fought like Frander’s Scouts. They were also wearing leather armor and carried several control brooches. We destroyed them all, but they were insulated in tightly sealed leather. Master Sherefin told us a long time ago that the brooches needed to be in contact with the wearer to be effective. That leads me to believe that these were unassigned brooches and were meant for someone else, possibly me, or Arten and Naria. Also, the one I questioned spoke with an odd accent. The only other time I can recall hearing it was that lord who tried to make us surrender, Sir.”
“Lord What’s-his-name was from the duchy of Lederan,” Marta said, nodding. “They have a language of their own up there in addition to Fornistanian. So, they were definitely from Frander and after you. It sounds like either your fame has spread to Frander, or he was just after a way to keep Arten and Naria out of his next conquest.”
“Which is..? Did you hear something I didn’t, Sir?” Java asked, looking Marta in the eye.
“No. Not yet, at least. However, Frander is not likely to sit back and lick his wounds for long. I would expect that we’ll be hearing from him soon.”
* * *
Java spent three days with the Firewalkers in Linkville. Captain Corban was not overly pleased with her decision but agreed that she was safe enough in the compound to suit even Arten’s over-protective streak. Her decision suited the Guardsmen as well. Most of them were young, handsome, and adventurous. Whenever there were a group of Firewalkers in town, the Guards flocked to them. Not everything was fun and games though.
Sergeant Halloway caught Mesta off guard in the Silver Skull by sitting down next to her. “Corporal Wainwright, I would like to have a word with you, if I may.”
“Just a word? Why bother talking when there are so much better ways to spend our time?” Mesta shot back, grinning.
“No, that is not...I mean, I’m flattered but...”
Mesta burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you’re so bashful about it.”
Sergeant Halloway regained some of his composure after he had sputtered for a moment. “Corporal, I have a question about the princess.” At Mesta’s nod, he continued. “Corporal Wainwright, the men from Blackburn told us that the princess ordered the execution of the wounded men in the ambush. I was there when she was attacked in Whitehall, but I didn’t believe she was that bloodthirsty. Is she really that fond of killing?”
Mesta’s mirth had evaporated in an instant. “No. Java hates killing. But she hates Frander even more.” Mesta leaned forward to look the sergeant in the eyes. “Sergeant, you didn’t see the things we saw on the border. You can’t imagine the horror. Java is so sweet and gentle that she used to come back to camp weeping over finding dead refugees in the forest. And sometimes live ones who were too far gone to save. Believe me, if any of the rest of us had been there instead, they would have died just the same.”
Sergeant Halloway nodded and stood, bowing to Mesta before he walked away. “What was that all about, Mesta? Did he turn you down?” Darla asked, grinning as she set her beer beside Mesta’s.
“No. He wanted to know if Java was really as bloodthirsty as she seems sometimes. He was one of the ones who failed to protect her in Whitehall, and now he’s disturbed by her ordering the death of the ambushers herself instead of letting the duke do it. After all, she’s just a girl.” Mesta’s sour look had Darla giggling.
“I bet his daddy is a noble. One of the quill and parchment set who don’t get their hands dirty.” Mesta’s eyes went wide at Darla’s suggestion, and both of them giggled until a nearby trooper spoke.
“His father was Lord Darby, ladies,” the distinguished-looking young Guardsman said softly. “If he’d been born on the right side of the sheets, these would be his lands now.”
Mesta looked him in the eye and smiled. “Is that why he doesn’t like Java? Because she got what he thinks he should have gotten?”
The trooper picked up his ale and came to sit with them. “No, he’s actually rather fond of her. What disturbs him is that she doesn’t know her place. His mother raised him on the notion that women were made to make babies, not war.”
“And your mother..?” Mesta asked, looking into his eyes with a bold, appraising look that made most men squirm.
“...Was a mercenary. Ma was a Cavalrywoman with the Black Reapers,” he answered, smiling at the surprise in their eyes.
“And your Da?” Darla asked, grinning.
“Master Gold Merchant Canbury of Watertown. He and Ma had a serious relationship one winter, and I arrived the next. Ma was old enough to want to settle down, so he settled her on a small farm. I was accepted into the Guard because of him.”
Mesta smiled and nudged Darla. “So, what’s your name? I’m Mesta, this is Darla.”
“Corwin,” he replied, smiling at both of them.
* * *
“...So we both took him upstairs. Ooo, Java, what an artist,” Mesta said, grinning broadly.
“You two had better be careful. Stephen isn’t going to be happy with you if you cripple one of his men.” Java grinned, then took on a more thoughtful expression. “So Sergeant Halloway is one of Lord Darby’s sons. I’ll have to speak to him sometime. Let him know that when he’s ready to retire he’ll have a place of his own.”
“You’re just too nice sometimes, Java,” Darla said, grinning at Java and Mesta.
“No, not really. I just...Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve any of this. If Arten and Naria hadn’t made me lady here, he might have inherited anyway. There aren’t any legitimate children, so one is as good as the next.”
Darla moved over and hugged Java. “You deserve everything you’ve received, Java. Even Jah’Moke.” Her comment had all three of them laughing and telling stories, just like the old days.
Marta knocked on the door, interrupting them. “Java, a messenger just arrived from Whitehall. Naria says to get your butt back home immediately. In those words.”
“Yes, Sir,” Java said softly. “Will you please call the company together? I’d like to say goodbye.” Marta smiled and nodded as she turned to go. “Mesta, be careful out there. I don’t want to hear that you let one of Frander’s men get close enough to get a shot at you.”
Java walked out into the sun to find all the women who were not on patrol in formation waiting for her. Disdaining the platform where Marta and the lieutenants were waiting she walked into the formation and began hugging her friends. She saved Ari for last. “Ari, I...”
“I know, Java. We all do,” Ari whispered back, then grabbed Java in a rib-cracking hug.
Jah’Moke and Cah’Fene had been warned as well and were waiting for her with Sugar already saddled. “Captain Corban sent a runner up with the message that they would be ready when you are, Java,” Jah’Moke said softly as she mounted. When she simply nodded he led off, Sugar naturally taking her place at Joh’s side. They could see the Guardsmen filing out of Linkville to line the road and await her arrival. When Java still did not react, Jah’Moke nudged her.
“Are you awake over there?”
“Just sad, Jah’Moke. I hate saying goodbye,” she whispered, and he nodded.
Stephen and his men fell in behind the royal party and began the trek home. Java recovered enough to begin leading after a few hours. The trip was a short one. It was late spring, and they were able to make good time on the roads. Whitehall appeared before lunch on their fifth day. A rider had been sent ahead to announce their arrival, and the gates stood open to them as they rode through. Stephen accompanied Java and her party to the palace.
Arten and Naria were on the palace steps when they arrived. Arten was obviously anxious to see her, and Naria was just as obviously angry. Java took the path of least resistance and went to hug Arten first. It didn’t save her.
“Java, what in the name of all the Gods do you think you’re doing?” Naria asked softly, all but growling in her anger.
“Hugging Arten?
” Java asked. Naria was obviously very angry.
“Not this time, kitten. You knew you should have returned straight here, not gallivant off to Linkville,” Naria said quietly, letting Java know that she was really mad. Naria yelled if she was annoyed. When she got quiet, it was time to hide.
“Mother, I...”
“Not a word, Java. Not one word. I’m too angry right now,” Naria whispered, and Java shrunk back a little.
“Yes, Naria,” Java said in a subdued little girl’s voice that almost made Arten laugh. It took a lot to make Java cower, but Naria seemed to have found it.
Java was called to Arten’s study later in the day, after she’d had a chance to clean up. She walked in wearing her uniform, knives and all, and Arten chuckled. “Ready for a fight, darling?”
“No,” Java answered softly, looking about the room curiously. “Where’s Naria?”
“Cooling off. We’ve been worried about you, Java. You should have returned here immediately. You may have been safe with the Firewalkers, but you were needed here for court and planning sessions. The existence of Frander’s Scouts in the duchy is a rude surprise, and we need to start making more plans on how to deal with them. I sent a request to Linkville with the messenger to have Lieutenant Kelvin stay on with her women. That gives us four hundred Firewalkers on patrol. I’ve also sent for the Reapers and the Dragons. Two additional mercenary companies may be an expensive step to take, but we feel it’s a necessary one.”
Java nodded when Arten finished speaking. “Yes, Sir. Why is Naria so angry? I was safe in Linkville. It can’t just be because I missed the planning sessions.”
Arten put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Java, I think you know how Nari and I feel about you. You are very dear to both of us, but especially to Naria. You are the only child we’ve ever had. You can’t blame her for feeling protective toward you. During the war, it was different. You had to be there for Sammy. She knew and understood that. But now she wants to shield you as much as she can. Having you so far away when she wanted to shelter you was driving her to distraction.”
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