by Auryn Hadley
"Ya prolly do na wanna make a habit a that." His eyes slipped closed as he spoke.
"Of what?"
"Touching me, kitten. Each time ya do, yer sharin' yer secrets." He once again looked at her with his midnight gaze.
"You just read me?"
He shrugged and nodded once. "I can na control it, Sal. Ya touch me, I get somethan. And na all a us men are like the ones ya knew before. LT'd never treat ya like that. I've read him, too."
Sal felt her skin prickle. "How much have you gotten from me?" His words hinted at secrets she'd never shared.
"Enough." He sighed. "Enough ta know ya do na believe it when he says yer beautiful. Ya are, though. Strong, magnificent, brilliant. Even the humans see it, Sal. But ya do na know what yer instincts are screaming about, do ya?"
"No," she admitted. "I keep trying to ignore it. Cyno, I don't want to be a beast. I don't want to be the animal humans always say I am. I just want to be a damned good soldier!"
"Then maybe start listenin' ta what yer body's demanding. They call us beasts 'cause they're jealous. It is na 'cause they're better than us, it's 'cause they're scared of us, and they have damned good reason ta be."
"I'm sure growling, snarling, and biting don't help any. Not like any of that is exactly civilized."
"And lying, cheating, or backstabbing are? Being different does na make it better. There's more a them than us, and it's gotta be hard fer ya."
"What do you mean?"
"Being female," Cyno said, cocking his head. "Has na anyone told ya 'bout that?"
Sal shook her head. "No. I just keep hearing that we're rare."
"Only 'bout one female is born fer every four or five males. Of those, maybe one in ten is an alpha type. We call them kaisaes. Pack Leaders."
"How do you know all this?" Sal asked, amazed.
"I was raised iliri. Pretty rare ta find purebreds anymore, but that does na mean we do na still keep the traditions. That's why it makes so much sense for ya ta end up with LT. Ya both got the vis." He shrugged and glanced away. "Makes me a bit jealous, though. I'm na the type ta be ahnor, but does na mean I would na wanna be."
Sal just shook her head, confused. "Cyno, I think you just lost me. I don't know what half of those words mean."
"Damn," he whispered. "I can na believe I told ya that. Look, never mind, k? Yer a good friend Sal. Ya jus' happen ta be the best smelling friend I ever had. LT's a lucky man."
With a last glance at her, he kneed Raven into a canter and moved forward in line. She looked up and saw Blaec glance over his shoulder at the sound of hooves. His brow creased when he saw Cyno.
He's embarrassed, she sent to Blaec. He actually gave me a compliment and didn't know what to do next.
Do I need to talk to him?
No, that's the worst thing you can do, I think. He's good, he just wasn't sure how to tell me that he's ok with this.
Are you still ok with this?
I am, she told him. Stop worrying, Blaec.
I won't promise anything, he teased as he retreated from her mind.
"It will be hard for him, you know," a lilting voice said behind her.
Sal slowed her mare and fell in beside Risk. "For who?"
"Cyno. He trained you, he feels responsible for you, and he feels a connection with you." He stared at her with his amber eyes for a moment, then explained, "Where he comes from, iliri act nothing like humans and relationships are very different. He's trying to work that out. He trusts LT. He respects you. He's just not sure how to feel happy about something that goes against all his instincts."
"Where's he from?"
"Guttertown in Prin." Risk named the slum so notorious that everyone in the Conglomerate knew of it. "He got conscripted when he – let's say they caught him stealing food. LT saw him working on the walls of some outpost we passed and got his name. When we had the next round of applications, he sent for Cyno, even though he hadn't applied. Like you, he passed each test, except riding. Took us almost a year to get him in the saddle, which is why he'll only ride Raven, now."
"So how long has he been with the Blades?"
"He's the newest. I think he's been with us about two years. The others we got since him didn't live that long."
Their conversation drifted into companionable silence for a few miles, and then a few miles more. Throughout the day, the Blades moved through the ranks, entertaining themselves as they could. Sal took in scenery she'd never seen. Open plains turned to rolling hills and trees made lines along the horizon. Each night they cared for their horses first then set up the pavilions, finding their way into their beds by the time darkness took over the sky. Each morning she woke next to Blaec and made it her duty to pack the communal items of the camp. On the third evening, when the sky began to show streaks of pinks, the glow of a military encampment signaled their destination in the shadow of a foothill.
Riding at the rear of the column, Sal smiled when the Lieutenant pulled his horse to the side, looking for her. She squeezed Arden into a smooth trot, and pulled ahead of Risk and the pack mules, into an opening in the line. Seeing her, LT nudged Scorch over, reaching across to grab her hand.
"We're bunking down with the main army for a few days," he told her.
"I see that." She nodded toward the camp fires twinkling in the distance. "I guess this means I get a new roommate for the night?"
"No, stay with me." He flashed her a charming grin. "Let the men say what they will."
"How about a compromise. I'll visit you, but I'll bunk with Risk." She called over her shoulder, "If you're ok with it, that is?"
"Us scrubbers have to stick together, you know," Risk yelled at the couple.
"Keeps your reputation pristine and doesn't give any of those grunts the wrong idea about what I will do in my free time." Her pale eyes looked up at Blaec with a warning in them. "We both know there's going to be at least one scuffle. We don't need to add any fuel to that fire."
"Fair enough, but I plan to change your mind." He brought their entwined hands to his lips.
The moment his mouth touched the back of her hand, his eyes widened and his grip released. Scorch stopped in his tracks at an unseen command. Shocked, Sal reined Arden to a halt.
"Blaec?" she asked, his eyes staring at nothing.
Hold up! Risk sent into the minds of the Black Blades. LT's seen something.
Confused, Sal looked at Risk. "Is this normal?" Blaec still sat his saddle like a statue.
"Not exactly," Risk told her, while the other men nosed their horses closer. "It's his ability. Happens often enough that we know what it is, but not so often that we ever get used to it."
With a gasp, Blaec became animated, blinking and looking around him to get his bearings. When his eyes met hers, he relaxed.
"Sal, whatever you do, don't take the dun," he said with a calm intensity. "That's an order, do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir?" She was confused. "What dun?"
"I don't know," he said, looking to the Blades, seeking answers he didn't have. "I just know it'll break a leg, and if you choose the dun, you'll be under it. The bay is fast. If you take the bay, it will be ok."
"Sal," Arctic said, pushing Bazya beside Arden. "It'll make sense when it needs to. It always seems to."
"What else did you get, boss?" Shift asked.
"Damn, I hate this." Blaec rubbed his head. "We need to hit all targets when the moon is only a sliver. If we do it then – "
"That's tomorrow night, LT," Razor interrupted.
"Ok, then we go tomorrow. We'll drop each target if we do it then, otherwise, we'll miss two of them. I don't know why. Cyno?"
"Yeh?"
"Watch out for the son. He's going to make a late call on his father and may surprise you. Shift?"
"Yeah, boss?"
"The girl has to go. She'll seem like a working girl, but she's really his body guard. Take her out first and you can walk out the front door without anyone stopping you."
Shift nodded, and the Li
eutenant turned to Arctic.
"Don't try to go in. Just after the evening bells ring, he'll close the east windows. A good shot will take him down without you needing to be near."
"I can do that, sir," Arctic said.
"And Sal..." he broke off. "Guys, can I have a moment?" The Blades nodded and moved their horses, giving LT and Sal space to ride off the road, out of earshot. "Remember that promise I made you give me?" he asked. "About being faithful?"
"I do." she said nervously.
"Good. I meant it." He looked at her for a long moment, sadness in his eyes, until he came to a decision. "You're going to have to catch the Chancellor's eye tomorrow afternoon. He'll have his men secure you and bring you to his rooms. I'm sorry, love, but I don't know all the details, there's just too many options. I just know you'll be undressed, with golden hair and green eyes, kneeling over him in his bed. You'll be able to sneak through the halls – remember that the first room on the right has servant's clothes in it. Out the door, turn right, first door. Can you remember that?"
"I can."
"When you get to the stables, they'll raise the alarm. The boy will try to stop you. Don't let him. If you wait, they'll catch you. If you stop to incapacitate him, they'll catch you. And don't take the dun. Please, Sal, swear to me you won't take the dun?"
"The bay, Blaec, I promise."
"I just saw the dun go down, pinning you beneath it. A guard cuts your throat..." He blinked and looked at the sky. "Sal, I can't let you do this."
"You already said it'd be fine, so long as I don't take the dun. I swear to you, dearest, I will walk before I climb on any dun." She slid from her saddle, ducked under Scorch's, neck, and moved to Blaec's stirrup.
The Lieutenant dropped beside her, wrapping his arms around her. "I saw you try to call my name while you bled out, and I saw myself kiss your hand when we found your body." He buried her head into his chest.
"But the bay is fast? You said the bay is fast."
"Yeah, I saw you on the bay, racing for the top of a hill. Fuck, I know what hill that is, too." He sucked in a breath. "I need a map! If you can make the hill, Zep's there with a squad of infantry. They'll hold off the guards and you can make it back. You'll have something... I don't know what, but you'll have something we need."
He bent and kissed her, then looked in her eyes for too long, something still worrying him, before turning back to his horse with the thought unspoken. Sal ducked back under her own mare and swung into the saddle easily. Blaec was already moving toward the men before she found her stirrups and nudged Arden forward. She caught the tail end of the conversation.
"Ok, I'll have someone meet you at the edge of the camp where we need to set up," Blaec said before he turned his horse and raced off toward the army encampment, Arctic on his heels.
Sal fell into line again while Shift and Razor led them at a sedate walk toward the camp.
They went to find a map, Shift told her. LT said it's important. What's with the dun?
If I take the dun, Blaec said I'll die. That's all, Sal sent back calmly.
Oh! Damn, girl, then don't take the dun.
I know. Swore to him I'll walk before I ride a dun, now.
Shift chuckled. "Risk, remember to tell Tilso no duns for Sal or LT will fire him."
The men laughed. It had a hint of nervousness to it, but even Sal felt the tension ease.
Chapter 24
Sal pulled the clean, but well-worn, clothes onto her new form. "I need a name and a reason to be in the Chancery."
Blaec nodded. "That we have. You're Arisha Jocose, the daughter of the washer woman. She took ill recently – the washer woman that is – and we bribed her with medicines to get you in. Her husband served the Conglomerate but was lost in the first battle. She does have a daughter, but the real Arisha has been living in Prin with an aunt for a decade. She started telling people that her girl would come visit since she's ill, so it'll be no surprise when you show up."
"Can I meet her? Does she know why I'm here?" Sal asked.
"You will, and all she knows is that we need you to get inside the building any way possible. You sure you're ok with this, Sal?"
"Arisha, and yes. I'm sure."
"Ok." He turned to the door. "Let me introduce you to your mother, then." I'm sorry, but I can't touch you like that. You might as well be any normal human the way you look.
That's a good thing, Blaec. If you don't recognize me, then no one else will either. Make it up to me later.
I will, I promise.
She followed him through the tent flap and into a small pavilion a few rows down. Ducking inside, she found herself next to an elderly woman.
"Pardon me," she said.
The old lady looked up, her rheumy eyes a pale shade of green that had been vibrant in its youth. "She'll do," the woman said to LT when he entered behind her. "She looks enough like me at her age, no-un'll doubt she's mine."
"Good," Sal said. "So what shall I call you?"
"Risha allus called me Mam. I'm Mrs. Jyor Jocose, though. Round here, they just call me Vina, if they call me anythin' atall."
"Ok, Mam. Tell me about myself. What do I like, what have I done?"
As the old woman told stories of her daughter, Sal couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Most likely the real Arisha was selling her body or dead by now. Prin was a hard place for a girl this age.
She sent a thought to Zep. What's the going price for a whore in Prin?
High class or Guttertown? he sent back.
Both. And where would a washer woman's daughter, living with her aunt, end up?
She could go either way. Guttertown gets about twenty-five pents and is measured in two hour sessions. High class whores in Prin can get up to a krit a night. They also have courtesans, but they only serve the elite and start out at ten krits.
Ok, Zep, where would a girl like this one likely be? Blonde with green eyes, if that matters.
Hard to say. Humans can have blonde hair, but it's usually considered an iliran thing. Mostly depends on the shade, really. Tan or yellow?
Yellow, Sal replied.
So, an iliri mutt. That'd put her in Guttertown. If she doesn't have the accent, she might do a fair trade in the working class areas regardless of her coloring. If her teeth are dull? Yeah, she'd make plenty. Lot of well bred men want to see what your kind can do. Why? You're thinking something, aren't ya?
Yep, she told him. Don't tell Blaec, but I have a feeling a whore is much more interesting than a washer woman's daughter. Considering the Chancellor is known to have a fondness for young blondes? I just need to know how to play it.
I can help you with that, Zep thought smugly. Grab me when you're done. I'll give you a burning of some memories – and only of the good ones I've been with.
Thanks, I think.
While she chatted with Zep, Blaec had been asking the old woman questions about her daily routine and explaining what they needed. Mrs. Jocose was adamant that no one could get into the Chancery. The only people allowed past the servants' area were those invited – or detained. From Blaec's questions, it was obvious he was trying to play it safe. Not that it mattered. The Chancellor was a paranoid and private man. Sal wasn't going to be able to just walk in. She had to be invited. That meant she needed to get the Chancellor's attention, and the Lieutenant wouldn't like it.
Excusing herself, Sal left Blaec to explain their plan to the woman. She headed straight to Zep. In less than fifty meters, a young soldier stepped into her path.
"How much, miss?" he asked.
Sal-as-Risha smiled at him coyly. "Forty pents for a ride, sixty for the night."
The youth reached into his pocket, checking his money by feel.
"Get lost, kid," Zep said, striding up behind him. Sal had to smother a laugh when the soldier blanched and nodded.
"Sorry, sir." He gulped. "I didn't know she was spoken for."
"Get yer ass over here, wench." Zep grabbed her by her arm and hauled her around
the corner. Nice, he thought. You're a natural at this. Did I mention I have sixty pents for a blonde?
Keep dreaming, Zep.
Ok, figured I'd try before you see this. Hang on.
He pushed his memories to her. Unlike the bright flames Blaec had shared with her, Zep's hit like a sledge hammer. They burned brightly in her mind, but gave off only light – no heat. When Sal focused on the glow, faces of girls passed across her mind. Each one was involved in a sexual act with "her," since the perspective seemed to be from Zep's eyes. Also, they were all iliran crossbreds.
The impact of the images made her stagger. Zep didn't have the mental skill to compartmentalize his memories like those with iliran ancestry. Instead of a stream of consciousness, the jumble of partial thoughts made her feel almost dizzy. As her knees went weak, he grabbed her and held her against his massive chest until she sighed.
Sorry, kid, he said. I warned you it'd be rough.
Just the packaging was, she replied, patting him to show she could stand on her own. And by the way, nice tattoo.
She'd caught a few glimpses of a tattoo on the inside of his hip, a place where few would see it. It was hard to make out, but looked like an intricate swirl. The ink was silver. From the taste of his memories, she knew it signified something important.
Yeah, thanks. His black skin turned a deeper shade. Just, get what you need from that and meet me on that hill, ok?
Ok, big boy, she teased, leaving him standing between the tents, blushing.
Chapter 25
It was late afternoon before "Mam" turned the cart toward the Chancery. Sal had been collecting filthy clothing and piles of unwashed bedding then returning baskets of clean linens for hours. Her shoulders burned in a way that sword work never caused. The weight of the baskets made her soft hands red and raw, causing a new appreciation for the work civilians did each day. It'd been years since Sal had done this type of thing and sworn she would rise above it. When she was conscripted, she never thought she'd miss the calluses. She could just add a few to her body, but it wouldn't help her image any. Sighing, she leaned against the cart.