Dynasty of Rogues

by Jane Fletcher

  “You might be right.”

  Tanya’s bleak tone surprised Riki. “No, you’re fine as a corporal. It’s me who’s the lousy soldier.”

  “You’ve got a lot of skills a Ranger needs. You’re just lousy at doing what you’re told.”

  “Yeah. But isn’t that most of what being a soldier is about?”

  “Sometimes. Not always.” Tanya paused. She looked as if she was struggling to say something, but then curiosity took over. “That time when Gerry Baptiste told us to prepare our kit, and you vanished off. Where did you go?”

  “The moggies by the kitchen had just had a litter of kittens. I wanted to say good-bye to them before we left.”

  “The sergeant gave us an order and you wandered off to play with moggies?” Tanya sounded half amused, half disbelieving.

  “I knew my kit was good. If you hadn’t gone over it three times as hard as for anyone else, it would have passed muster.” Riki heard the bitterness in her own voice, more than she had intended.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right, I did. I wanted to find something wrong.”

  Riki’s anger died in amazement that Tanya so readily conceded the point. Obviously she did not want to get into an argument.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize just because I helped save your life.” Riki tried to turn it into a joke.

  “I might have ulterior motives.” Tanya’s voice was softer than before, underlain with meaning.

  Riki looked up from the ashes of the fire. Tanya had shifted closer and was staring at her intently. Riki’s heart pounded and a clammy sweat sprang up on her palms. She knew that she had just moved way out of her area of experience. Fighting a surge of panic, she hunched her shoulders and stared at the ground between her feet. Her mouth went dry, too dry to speak—not that she could think of anything safe to say.

  Tanya leaned still closer. “I’m pleased we’ve got this chance to get to know each other better.”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t feel that way for long.”

  Tanya drew back. Riki did not need to see her face to know that the attempt at humor had fallen flat. Riki wanted to reach out to Tanya, but her body would not obey her. She stared at her own fingers locked around her knees. Despite all attempts to loosen them, they stayed bound together in a death grip. Her brain had turned to petrified mush.

  “You don’t want to get to know me any better?”

  “Any reason why I should?” Riki cursed herself. She had not meant the words to sound confrontational, but that was clearly how Tanya interpreted them. She shifted back to her original position on the other side of the fire.

  “Nope. None at all.”

  “I didn’t mean I...” Riki swallowed. She could not work out what to say. See, I said you wouldn’t feel that way for long, did not seem like a good idea.

  Tanya was fumbling with the pack on the ground behind her. With her face averted she mumbled something Riki did not catch.

  “Pardon?”

  Tanya did not repeat it.

  Riki watched in despair. “Do you want me to tell you more about the moggies?”

  “No. That’s okay. I’m going to sleep.” Tanya pulled out her blanket and shook it free. The ends snapped like a whip.

  “Right.”

  Riki retrieved her own blanket and wrapped herself in it beside the remains of the fire, but she could not sleep. Had Tanya just been hitting on her? Had she completely blown it? Or had she had a couple of minor fits and missed chunks of the conversation? Because it had gone from amiable to disaster without any of the normal intervening steps.

  Riki licked her lips, trying to force herself to speak aloud. To say something along the lines of, Tanya, I didn’t mean that I don’t want to know you better. In fact, I’d like to get to know you incredibly well. But you surprised me, and I panicked, because nobody has ever hit on me before. That is, if that’s what you were doing. And I didn’t mean what I said to sound the way it did. So can we please try the conversation again and see if I can do better the second time around?

  She could not bring herself to say it. Riki rolled onto her side. She remembered her idea from earlier that day. Maybe I should deliberately do something stupid tonight, then she can put me back on her list of people she’d like to throttle, and we’ll be on familiar ground again. It looked as if she had succeeded on that one after all.

  Chapter Sixteen—Spadehorns In The Marsh

  The journey across the region of sandstone hills lasted for three days and then their route descended into a wide basin filled with swampland, reminiscent of the area around Southwater. However, the plant and animal life were noticeably different, due to the water being fresh rather than salt. The scenery was not shown to its best by the weather, which had turned to rain the evening before. A network of low islands stood bleak and forlorn amidst the reed beds, crowned with clumps of drooping trees. Gray clouds blanketed the sky and the temperature was cold for late August.

  Fortunately, the rain was holding off, no more than the occasional splatter of light drizzle. Tanya looked around, shivering in ankle-deep water, while waiting for Riki to wave her forward. They had considered detouring around the marsh, but Riki had been sure she could find a way across, and there was no saying where they would be taken if they tried to go around.

  So far, Riki was doing well, although progress was slow and Tanya was fed up with wet feet. She considered the rising ground at the other side of the swamp. At their current rate, they would reach it well before nightfall. Tanya tried to cheer herself up with thoughts of building a fire, warming up, and drying off.

  Riki was four meters ahead, testing the ground cautiously with a long stick. Tanya came behind, leading the ponies. The risk of getting trapped in mud made riding too dangerous. For their part, the ponies were clearly very happy for the chance to take it easy and chomp on any water plants they liked the look of. One species of floating blackweed was a particular favorite. As well as the wet feet, Tanya was getting fed up with having her arm wrenched every time a pony spotted another clump.

  “This way,” Riki called, pointing to her right.

  Tanya advanced another dozen meters. The water now reached mid-calf. A larger island, maybe a quarter kilometer in length, lay just off their course. At its peak, it stood a dozen meters above the water level. The trees on it formed a modest wood.

  “Riki!” Tanya called out.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think we could head there for lunch?” Tanya pointed to the island.

  “Sure.” Riki returned to her scouting.

  Tanya studied her back. In the three days since their conversation by the campfire, Tanya had not been fair, and she knew it. To say that she had been cold-shouldering Riki was an understatement, and Tanya was well aware that her behavior was unjustified, petty, and immature. Riki was perfectly entitled to reject any unwanted advance, and she was not interested. That much she had made clear by the way she had responded, as much as what she had said. Her body language had screamed back off and don’t touch. She had clammed herself shut, head down, refusing eye contact, arms clasped defensively in front of her.

  Tanya derided herself. Had she really expected anything else? The enmity between them had faded, but this did not mean Riki had to be interested in anything other than friendship. Tanya was not arrogant enough to think that every woman in the world was going to want her. Clearly she was not Riki’s type. But just what sort of woman did Riki go for? She had never given any clue.

  Maybe Riki had been a tad curt in her brush-off, but from then on she had been making a manifest effort to be friendly, although nothing even faintly suggested a sexual overture. Tanya had been the one who responded coolly, keeping a distance and blocking all conversation beyond the mundane. She could not help herself. She wanted Riki.

  Tanya knew she had to accept that it was not going to happen. The knowledge hurt. Tanya realized just how much she had allowed herself to become fixated on Riki. Even now, cold, miserable, and soaked
to the knees, Tanya knew she was ogling, watching Riki’s head tilt as she studied the marsh, her arms held out for balance, the way her clothes tightened across her hips and shoulders as she moved. Unless Tanya could pull back and get her emotions under control, she was going to carry on hurting.

  The pack pony lunged for another wreath of blackweed, almost jerking Tanya off her feet. She moved her foot sharply into a wide straddle for balance and the resulting splash sent cold water as high as her waist. It trickled down unpleasantly under her belt. Tanya yanked on the reins, venting her ill temper. The pony looked at her reproachfully and continued chewing.

  Riki called out and waved her forward again. Tanya looked at the island, now less than half a kilometer away. With luck, another ten minutes would see them there. She wanted a break.

  *

  Riki barged her way through the band of reeds and stepped from muddy water onto watery mud. However, in a few more paces, the ground had firmed up. This swamp was not tidal like a salt marsh, but seasonal flooding meant the lower areas spent months submerged, which killed most seedlings. Hence, an uneven band of knee-high grass, a dozen meters wide, ran the length of the island between the reeds and the trees.

  The top of the hillock was densely wooded, mainly by spindly bogash. Coils of stinger vine filled the spaces between the trunks, sending tendrils spilling across the grass. Riki grimaced. Just touching the vine leaves resulted in serious acid burns that could even be fatal in extreme cases. Fortunately it was no more resilient to full immersion than the bogash, and the grass was clear of it, apart from the shoots that had crept out since the last spring rains.

  Riki walked up the incline, feeling the water in her boots squelch with each step. An old tree had fallen across the grass, forming a functional bench. Riki trudged over to it and sat. She considered taking off her wet boot, but there was not much point. The grass was soaked from the morning rain. A fire would be needed to get anything dry, and without boiling water, they could not prepare the dried food.

  Tanya was a couple of meters behind, leading the ponies.

  Riki waited for her. “Do you want to stop here long enough to get a fire going? I don’t mind doing it.”

  Tanya’s shake of the head looked more like an irritated twitch. “No. I just wanted a break from standing around in water.”

  “Okay. I’ll see what we’ve got to eat.” Riki tried to sound as upbeat as possible.

  “Do that.”

  “The ponies will like the chance to graze.”

  “If they eat any more they’ll burst.” Tanya was definitely angry at something.

  Riki thought it wiser to say nothing more. She undid the bag where fresh food was stored. A little rooting around produced flat bread, cooked on the campfire the previous night, cheese and dried fruit, also a water flask. She refastened the bag before giving the pony a shove on its flank, sending it to join the others grazing by the waterside.

  Riki sat on the fallen tree and handed a half share of the food to Tanya, who received it with a grunt of acknowledgement, and then ate quickly in silence. Riki was still only halfway through her lunch when Tanya had finished.

  Tanya stood and flexed her arms, as if trying to rid herself of an ache. “I want to unwind. I’m going to practice my archery for a few minutes.” She kept her back to Riki and threw the remark over her shoulder.

  “Sure.”

  Riki watched her stomp to her pony and yank the bow from its pack. Tanya was clearly in a bad mood. She had been in one for three days. Riki flipped her thoughts to the conversation that had set it off. Had Tanya been hitting on her by the campfire? Or had Tanya been after something completely different? If so, Riki had completely failed to pick up on it.

  Riki even wondered if she had suffered a minor brainstorm, announced I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, and then forgotten she had said it, because it was hard to think of any other justification for the way Tanya was acting.

  In the distance, the air was streaked brown with rain. Riki fixed her eyes unseeing on the line of hills. Was it her fault? Maybe she really had lost the ability to get along with anyone. Or maybe it was nothing to do with what she had or had not said. Maybe Tanya had never stopped disliking her, and now that they were away from the Guards, the need for pretense had gone. Since leaving Southwater, Riki had done her best to be friendly and Tanya had flung it all back in her face.

  A burst of huffing recalled Riki’s attention to her surroundings. Something had excited the ponies. Their foraging had taken them farther down the island, but they would not stray far. Riki’s gaze moved on. Beyond the ponies, an extended family of coppons were rooting through the mud offshore, their white ear tufts flashing semaphore messages. Overhead, a gissard hovered, on the lookout for reedmice. A female spadehorn was wading through the water a hundred meters from the island.

  Riki’s focus settled on Tanya, who had her bow strung and was using an isolated tree stump as a target. Tanya’s body was athletic and well proportioned. Her face in profile was finely chiseled. The bogash stump, a clear thirty meters away, already bristled with a tight ring of arrows. Riki sighed. The woman was good-looking, capable, brave, and as much fun to have around as a hangover. And Riki had taken enough. If Tanya wanted to be antisocial, Riki could play the same game. She’d had plenty of practice.

  Riki considered the reeds bending in the wind. Rain was on the way. Riki tried to judge when it would reach them, hoping they would be out of the marsh before then and settled under canvas—ideally with a nice fire going as well.

  Her eyes moved back to Tanya and her head flipped around completely. Maybe the situation could be resolved. Perhaps she should talk to Tanya, ask what was wrong, and see if there was a way to sort things out. What did she have to lose by trying? Riki sighed. More to the point, why was she unable to put Tanya out of her mind for longer than five seconds?

  A loud snort made Riki look back to the marsh. The female spadehorn had changed direction and was wandering closer. It was a fully grown adult, two meters high at the shoulder. The huge herbivore was in its summer pelt, though the heavier fur would come through soon. Its rump was bulky, showing the accumulation of summer fat that would see it through winter. The flat, shovel-like protrusion on its nose was half a meter long. In cold weather, the spadehorn used it for digging through snow. Currently it was proving just as effective in loosening roots in the soft mud.

  Riki was unworried by the animal’s approach. Spadehorns were placid animals, too large to fear predators. Furthermore, they had weak eyesight. Ears and nose were their keenest senses. Since this one had certainly never smelled a human or a pony before, even if it caught their scent, “strange and inedible” would be the only message it would take, and for any animal that translated into, “Leave it alone.”

  Riki returned to the archery display. Tanya had shot all twenty-four arrows, and from what Riki could see, not missed once. However, the exercise did not appear to have cheered her up. Tanya had been staring in Riki’s direction, but as soon as Riki looked over, she turned away sharply and marched off to reclaim the arrows. From the body language, Riki wondered whether Tanya had been toying with the idea of using her as the next target.

  Tanya reached the stump and started pulling arrows from the rotten wood. Watching her, Riki again battled to understand how she could find anyone so infuriating and upsetting, yet still want them to spend as much time together as possible. Riki closed her eyes and sank her head into her hands. What was going on with her head, and how was she going to sort it out?

  With her eyes shut, the quieter marshland noises rippled through Riki’s thoughts, attracting her attention for the first time. Under the whisper of grass and hiss of waves among the reeds, Riki noticed a soft, breathy sound. It came from the wood behind her, half chirp, half grunt, and had been there for some time, Riki realized, just below the level of notice. Her mind had been so preoccupied she had failed to pick up on it before, but now she did.

  Riki leapt to her feet,
shocked by her lapse. Of all oversights a Ranger could make in the wilderness, ignoring the murmur of a young spadehorn was one of the most suicidally stupid.

  Riki looked around frantically. Tanya was at the tree stump, the adult female was in the marsh, and the baby was in the wood. The mother spadehorn must have left it while she went foraging. Regardless of the youngster’s exact position, she and Tanya were between mother and baby, and that was a bad place to be.

  Riki moved down the slope, waving her arms, in the hope of catching Tanya’s attention. They needed to back away quietly. She did not want to call out—the mother spadehorn would hear and respond, yet Tanya was not in any hurry to turn around. Riki looked at the female spadehorn. It was no more than twenty meters from land and unmistakably wading in Tanya’s direction, coming back to reclaim its offspring.

  Still Tanya would not look around. What was wrong with her? Surely she was not so intent on reclaiming arrows that she could not hear the approaching spadehorn. Despite the risk of making noise, Riki had to do something. She opened her mouth to shout when she saw a movement between the trees. The baby spadehorn appeared, directly above where Tanya was standing. The youngster was under a meter high, one of that year’s births. The horn on its nose was merely a bump.

  “Tanya. Spadehorns. You’re between a mother and baby.”

  Riki kept her voice as low as possible, but it did no good. The young spadehorn had seen Tanya. It might have no idea what she was, but for a young spadehorn anything unknown was frightening when its mother was not nearby. The baby gave a warble of alarm. Immediately, the mother responded, bellowing and breaking from a peaceful shuffle into a charge.

  Tanya had jerked around at Riki’s call. Now she took off, leaving the way clear between the two spadehorns. However, the mother was close enough to see her, and the angry animal had clearly identified her as a threat to its young. The adult spadehorn veered around, changing course, and still pursuing Tanya.