“Trooper Ryson.”
“Sir!”
“You will report immediately to the stable master for detail duty.” This time I was careful not to grin as Ryson hurried out of the barracks. Cleaning tack and shoveling muck while listening to Groomer Hedley’s funny stories might curb his appetite for weaseling.
The captain’s eyes shifted back to me and his brows rose at my robe. “Trooper Rabbit.”
“Sir!”
“I assume there’s a reason why you’re wearing that.”
“I was going to the baths, sir!”
“I see. If you would, then, please wait a moment.” He turned to Slevoic. “Is there a reason why you’re in my barracks, Lieutenant?”
“We just wanted to visit with our friends, sir,” Slevoic said.
“Oh?” Suiden asked. “You expect to find some here?” Slevoic opened his mouth, but the captain cut him off. “Dismissed, Lieutenant. Now.” Suiden didn’t say anything for a count of ten after Lieutenant Slevoic and company had left; then all he said was that we would wait for Lieutenant Groskin to arrive from the stables, which he soon did. Captain Suiden made sure we were all accounted for, then had Groskin shut the door.
“Listen up, men. You are to remain in the barracks by order of the commander. You will not leave nor will you receive visitors. Evening meal will be delivered.” The captain caught sight of my robe again. “So will ample water for those of you who desire to wash. Lieutenant Groskin, remain here to make sure that these orders are obeyed. That is all.”
“Captain?” Lieutenant Groskin asked.
“I will talk with you when I return, Lieutenant.” Captain Suiden turned to me. “Rabbit, you’re with me.”
“Permission to change into my uniform, sir,” I said.
Captain Suiden actually smiled. “No. Commander Ebner will get over the robe, eventually, but he wants us there a couple of moments ago.” At that, he turned and headed for the door as I followed.
When we arrived at the commander’s quarters, we were ushered immediately into his presence. We stood at attention, the candlelight highlighting my robe’s vivid blues, reds and purples, and I wondered what the commander had heard about me, because his mustache stayed still.
“At ease, men. Sit down,” Commander Ebner said, as his aide shut the door. We waited for him to sit; then we seated ourselves in the chairs drawn up to his desk. I made sure that there were no gaps in my robe, as I didn’t want to flash my superior officers.
The commander fished out a piece of paper from a neat stack. “Trooper Rabbit, no patronymic. Father, Lord Rafe ibn Chause, third brother of the current Lord Chause; mother, Lady Hilga eso Flavan, daughter of the current Lord Flavan—”
“They’ve taken the names Two Trees and Lark, sir,” I said.
“—who thirty years ago renounced their Houses and moved to the Border to become farmers”—Commander Ebner read a little further—”and weavers.” He sighed and set aside the paper. “Why did you leave the Border, Trooper Rabbit?”
How does one rebel against rebels? My parents had cast off the privileges of position and rank to raise their family in the Border, unfettered by hypocrisy and oppressing conformity, to embrace earth, cottage goods, and the fae that lived wild and free, uncorrupted by the effluence of human governance. Fiat.
So, how did I one-up that? I ran away to the city and became a horse soldier in the Royal Army of King Jusson Golden Eye.
“I wanted to see the world, sir,” I replied.
Commander Ebner looked back down on the paper. “Thirty-two degrees to the throne with Chause, and forty degrees with Flavan.” He looked up at me again. “You could have joined at Iversly and become an officer, perhaps even a royal guard.”
“I’m not an aristo, sir. I’m a farmer’s son.”
He looked at my robe. “Hmm. Yes.” He shifted in his chair. “You met a Faena during this last patrol.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know the history of Iversterre?” Commander Ebner asked.
“Yes, sir. Or at least a version of it.”
“Hmm, I’m sure,” the commander said. “We have our own version too. The truth probably falls somewhere in the middle.” I silently disagreed, remembering the long-lived elves’ tales of harryings, burnings and killings.
“There were magicals here once,” Commander Ebner said. “But as the kingdom expanded, the magicals withdrew—until Iversterre reached what is now the Border. Then all hell broke loose.”
“The Border War, Rabbit,” Captain Suiden said.
“Yes,” Commander Ebner said, “with the Border army led by these Faenas.” He smoothed his mustache. “We were spanked hard, trooper, and sent to bed without our supper. A most shocking and humiliating defeat. We were very fortunate that they allowed us to sue for peace, and now we ignore the Border, hoping very hard that it ignores us back.”
It didn’t. The Border was very much aware of its southern neighbor, like a pebble in the shoe or a grain of sand in the eye.
“My grandfather was one of the lucky few to come home,” Ebner said. “Grandpapa used to tell us stories of how even the trees—” He broke off. “Well, enough of that.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
The commander leaned forward. “Now one of my units comes back a week late from what should’ve been a routine patrol saying that they were lost a half day’s ride from and in plain view of home, that there was a magical—a Faena!—where there’ve been none since before my greatgrandfather’s time, and that a trooper made a pact with it. After which this Faena showed said troop the way home. What do you think the Lord Commander will say to that?”
“Uh,” I said.
“Right.” Ebner sat back in his chair and I watched his mustache ruminate. Captain Suiden was staring at a candle. The garrison commander sighed again. “Well, there’s no help for it. We have to find out what’s going on.”
“Sir?”
“And since you’re the only one who has any knowledge of these Faena outside of old war stories and children’s tales, I’m sending you.”
“Me, sir?”
“Captain.”
“Sir,” Captain Suiden replied.
“You and your men will leave tomorrow morning and go back to where you found the magical.”
“Yes, sir.”
“There you will find out what it wants and report back to me.” Commander Ebner stood and we did likewise. “I trust your judgment, Suiden.” The commander’s mustache flattened against his cheeks. “Just don’t start another war. I don’t want to have to fight trees.”
Chapter Three
The trumpet awakened us all at sunrise and from three cots down I could smell Ryson, ripe from his tour of duty in the stables. Apparently he had fallen into bed without undressing.
As I rose and stumbled through my morning routine, I kept catching eyes on me. I hadn’t been pumped about my meeting with the commander and captain because Groskin took Suiden’s ban on visiting to extend to us gossiping, so the air was heavy with speculation, all aimed at me. Finally I took refuge from the covert glances by sitting back down on my cot and working through my morning prayers.
“Heed Captain!”
At the shout, I quickly finished and opening my eyes, stood. I wasn’t exactly the last but close enough to get the eye from Lieutenant Groskin, who had followed the troop captain into the room. I checked to see that my trousers were draped properly over my boots, and looked up in time to see the lieutenant suck in a deep breath.
“Lieutenant,” Captain Suiden said.
Groskin sputtered as the air escaped again.
“At ease,” Captain Suiden said. He waited until we were somewhat relaxed. “Our leave has been canceled.” It was the troop’s turn to suck air as we stared at our captain. He looked back, his brown eyes calm.
“You are to outfit for an extended tour. The mission’s parameters will be explained once we are en route. That is all. Lieutenant Groskin, with me.” They both left the
building.
I went to my footlocker to start packing, ignoring the now outright stares from my mates.
“What the poxy hell is going on, Rabbit?” Jeffen whispered at me.
“I can’t talk about it, Jeff.” I bent over to open my locker.
“It’s about that damn feather, isn’t it?”
I straightened so fast I felt my spine pop and stared at Jeff. “You’ve been in my locker.”
“No. As if I didn’t see you with it. Bright red, Rabbit, just like the ones the magical had,” Jeff replied.
I looked down at the drab of my uniform and realized that the feather had to have glowed against it. I raised my head again as the aroma of stables engulfed me.
“Border freak,” Ryson said, crowding close. “What the hell did you do?” The rest of the troop gathered around, listening hard.
“Back off, Ryson,” I said, bringing my arms up to shove him away.
“What’s going on here?” Lieutenant Groskin growled from behind us.
My arms dropped and my spine popped again as we jumped to attention.
“Sir! We were just wondering if Trooper Rabbit had anything to do with our canceled leave, sir!” I heaved a mental sigh. Ryson had less sense than a defective sheep.
“Oh, so you think Trooper Rabbit tells the commander what to do?” Groskin asked. My spine stiffened even more at his smile.
“Sir, no, sir! But maybe he had something to do with us getting lost in the first place, sir!” Ryson replied.
Groskin’s smile widened and his eyeteeth seemed to lengthen. “How, trooper?”
“Uhm, he’s from the Border, sir?”
“And?”
“Maybe he knows some, uh … I mean, he’s always praying, sir!”
“So that got us lost?”
I was praying hard that Groskin’s response to Ryson’s stupidity wouldn’t spill onto me. “He has a feather, sir. From the magical,” Jeffen said.
I felt as if I had been slugged in the gut.
“You think that we don’t know this?”
It was quiet enough to hear the flags gently flapping in the breeze outside on the commongrounds. Inside, we all stood so straight that we could be used as straightedges, our faces as impassive as stone. I could hear the lieutenant purr as he looked us over and I realized that we had reached his ideal—completely cowed.
“Ryson, you smell like manure.” Groskin walked over to a water barrel and thumped the side to see how much water was in it. “You will launder yourself, your bedding, uniform, and anything else you’ve touched before we leave. Is that clear, trooper?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“The rest of you, pack!”
We packed.
After breakfast I went back to my locker for one last check to make sure that I hadn’t forgotten anything. I saw the feather, red against the white of my smalls. I picked it up and, after a moment, took a pin from my kit and fastened it to my tabard. I turned and saw I had everyone’s attention, so I grinned, showing all my teeth.
“A Border custom.”
We assembled in the horse yard prior to departure, the sun just peeking over the garrison’s walls. Commander Ebner was there, his mustache stiff against his cheeks. All of our faces were on the haggard side, with the exceptions of Lieutenant Groskin, who was still purring, and Captain Suiden, who was his usual self. His brown eyes rested on my pinned feather for a moment, then moved on, scanning the rest of the troop.
Satisfied, the captain told Lieutenant Groskin to relay the order to move out. He waited until we were all in motion, saluted Commander Ebner, and joined us. The commander didn’t say anything as we passed. I supposed it was for drama’s sake that he stood there. I could hear future bards sing of our mission:
The sun shone bright that fateful morn,
As the brave young lads rode out to war,
O, mustache, waving us on in the gentle breeze—
The melancholy broke and I fought not to laugh, just in case Suiden did have a third eye in the back of his head. I had grown up with Faena and I knew that one Faena does not a war make. Unless war was declared first, and Commander Ebner said we weren’t going do that. I hoped not—I didn’t want to fight trees either.
Chapter Four
We reached the mountain lea as the sun hovered a handsbreadth above the horizon. I looked around, feeling as though it was a lifetime since we were last there instead of just yesterday. At the lieutenant’s order, I dismounted and walked over to where Laurel and I shared honeycakes and covenants. I wasn’t surprised to see no sign of him now.
I caught a faint whiff of the stables and saw Ryson ignore me as he walked by, his tabard still damp. All his uniform changes had been dirty and he had to wear one wet after Groskin’s command to clean up. I shivered in sympathy.
“Listen up, men,” Groskin called out. “The captain requires your attention.” He saw me and waved me over to him. “Rabbit, the captain wants you with him.” I followed the lieutenant to Captain Suiden and stood next to him, Groskin on the other side of me. The captain waited until everyone had gathered around and I frowned as I noticed how his brown eyes seemed bright green in his dark face. I then figured that they were probably reflecting the last rays of the sun.
“We have been charged by Commander Ebner to discover the reasons behind our recent adventures,” Suiden said, “including the appearance of the magical. To this end, we will search for and make contact with said magical, ascertain why it’s here, if it had anything to do with us being lost, and what, if any, threat it may pose.” The captain nodded his head at me. “Trooper Rabbit, due to his Border experience, is promoted to lieutenant for the duration of this mission.” I forgot the captain’s eyes as my own widened. What the bloody hell?
“But he’s a just a farm boy from the Border,” Ryson blurted out.
“Lieutenant Rabbit’s father is ibn Chause and his mother’s eso Flavan.” The captain waited a beat as the troop stared back, stunned. “Any other questions?” It was a rhetorical question but we all answered “No, sir!”
“You are dismissed.”
The breeze played with the pinned feather as I went to help set up camp, but as soon as I touched a bundle it was picked up by a trooper. I stared at him but he didn’t make eye contact.
“You’re an officer now, Rabbit,” Lieutenant Groskin said as he stood beside me.
“A pox on that. Sir.” I turned back to grab another bundle but they had all been taken. I walked over to where the tents were being put up and was ignored by the working men. I waited a few moments to see if anyone would acknowledge me, but I was thoroughly snubbed and I felt my face flush. A picture rose up of my da when the Weald council became more impossible than usual, and I drew myself up and looked down my nose.
“Lieutenant Rabbit,” Captain Suiden said.
My head snapped around and I stared down my nose at him.
“You need to get your tent up before the light goes,” he said. The sun was just sliding beneath the horizon and the wind picked up.
“Sir, as stated in the regulations and procedures, troopers will set up camp, sir!” Ryson said.
Sheep-biting weasel.
“Lieutenant Rabbit will have the same duties and responsibilities he’s always had unless and until I say otherwise,” Captain Suiden replied. “Have I made myself clear, Trooper Ryson?”
There was silence as we all digested this.
“Have I made myself clear, Trooper Ryson.” The captain’s voice rose just a little.
“Sir, yes, sir!” Everyone, including myself, Lieutenant Groskin and maybe a few of the horses, shouted.
The captain turned away and we all let out a silent breath. I went to get my tent and found it with Jeff.
“I guess we’ll be sharing still as they didn’t bring an extra one,” he said.
“Yeah.” I looked over my shoulder at the captain silhouetted against the last rays of
the sun. “Uh, Jeff, did you notice how the captain’s eyes—” I broke off at Jeff’s blank stare and shrugged. “Never mind.” When we finished setting up the tent, we went to the campfire where Trooper Basel led the duty cooks in fixing dinner. There were rabbits roasting over the fire and I felt my gorge rise as the smell washed over me. I went back to my tent where I had dumped my saddlebags and got bread, cheese and fruit. As I walked back to where the men were, Basel waved me over.
“I put aside some tubers for you, Lieutenant.”
I sighed. “Basel, you’ve known me for four years. You don’t have to call me lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. Here you go.” He gave me a plate filled with steaming hot vegetables.
I sighed again and, finding a spot upwind of the fire, sat down. To my surprise, Jeff joined me and watched me demolish the food on my plate. “Is it a Border custom that you don’t eat meat?”
“No, some are meat eaters.” I thought of the wolves, dragons, and others with sharp teeth. Laurel Faena had not looked like he subsisted solely on nuts and berries either. Or honeycakes. “And I eat fish. It’s just that the Border turns any notion of what’s ‘food’ on its head.” I forked up more food. “There was this farmer in the Weald next to ours who used to raise pigs, until one day he met a forest boar who spent the morning discussing with him the meaning of life and the purpose of the universe. He said afterwards that it sort of put him off pork chops.”
“You didn’t have any farm animals then?” Jeff asked.
“For food? Just dairy cows and laying chickens. But we also had horses, sheep, a couple of goats, dogs, and cats. Not to mention the snakes, owls and hawks that lived in our outbuildings.” Jeff stared and I explained. “They were there for the vermin. As man goes, so go rats and mice.”
“So it was a real farm,” Jeff said.
“It is a real farm. My family isn’t playing gentlefarmers,” I said. “They live off what they produce and sell the rest.”
“It’s just that—I mean, sheesh, Rabbit. You’re a fop,” Jeff said.
“Too right,” someone murmured.
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