Ker licked dry lips. The common soldiers were scanning the room, the two Cohort Leaders stood shoulder-to-shoulder, eyes on the high table. Matriarch lifted her hand, and the silence finally became complete. Canlor, the Hall’s Senior Administrator, rose from his seat on the Matriarch’s right and took her hand in his. The older woman no longer had the lungs to be heard throughout the room, and the contact meant he would speak for her.
“You are welcome, Cohort Leaders. You have news?”
“Opal Cohort Leader Jen Sha’na, Matriarch, and yes, we do.” Like most officers, the Eagle knew how to pitch her voice to be heard. “Farama the Capital has fallen.”
It was not so much the silence, Kerida thought, as the wash of buzzing in her head. She was sure the noise was coming from inside, not out. The capital had fallen? Ker couldn’t feel her hands and feet, though her heart seemed to be thumping in her chest. Administrator Canlor had called for order, and the Seniors were bringing their charges into line by pounding their fists in unison on the tables in front of them. Gradually, the familiar rhythm steadied the younger Candidates, and the great room was quiet again.
“Impossible.” Canlor repeated Matriarch’s words, and echoed the thoughts of everyone else present, Kerida was sure. “We have heard about the signal fires, of course.” Ker shook herself and tried to focus. “But that was less than three weeks ago. How has this happened?”
A good question, and the Cohort Leader had an answer.
“Treachery, Matriarch.” Jen Sha’na kept her eyes on the old woman, as if she’d been the one who was speaking. “There were simultaneous landings on the coast, by Algrade, by Lebsos, and at Lavensa. And while we rushed to stem that tide, two more ships were already in the capital, disguised as scows from Tolnida Province. By the time word could be sent, it was already too late.”
Ker pinched herself, dredging her brain for military strategy that she hadn’t had to think about in ages. So the signal fires—they had been to say the enemy was already in the capital.
It was clear from Canlor’s reactions, and the looks on the faces at the high table, that this was news to the Senior Staff. There was regular communication between Halls. Obviously, however, no such news had arrived from the Hall of Law in Farama the Capital. Matriarch’s grip on Canlor’s hand seemed to have tightened, almost as though it was the only thing holding the old woman upright.
“They were in the city by the time the signals reached Camp Oste,” the Cohort Leader said, confirming what Ker had thought. “What little we know now, we’ve learned from those of the Emerald and Ruby Cohorts who managed to escape.”
The Emerald Cohort? Ker inched forward in her chair, fingernails biting into the palms of her hands. Had her sister’s Cohort had the duty in the capital this month?
“This is grave news, indeed.” Canlor’s voice was colorless. “Thank you for bringing it to us.” There was real appreciation in his tone, an acknowledgment that Jen Sha’na had set aside whatever rivalry she might have felt in order to bring this important news.
“There is yet more.” The Cohort Leader paused as if she were considering how to proceed. Then the woman squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before continuing. “The reports that have reached us say that the Luqs and all her family have been taken.”
Murmuring spread through the Hall, but Ker didn’t move, except to become even more quiet and still. Finally, control was asserted once more, and the exchange at the front of the great room could be heard.
“You have some proof of this?” Canlor was saying. “We all know how easily rumor can take wing.” Those words, more than anything the Seniors might do, helped to settle the younger Candidates down to something resembling normal discipline.
“I have something which may help us to proof, with your aid, Matriarch.” Jen Sha’na stepped up to the table and pulled a chain out from under her uniform tunic, separating it from the leather thong of her plaque. She lifted it over her head and set it down, along with the round object hanging from it, on the tabletop in front of the old woman. Kerida peered around the soldiers who stood in her way, but could only see that the object was small. Barid, in a better position, laid his left hand on the table where all could see him and tapped the index finger. A signet ring.
Kerida nodded. That, of course, was the real reason the Eagles had decided to stop here and beg an audience at a Hall of Law. If the situation wasn’t as serious as it was, Kerida would have grinned. She wondered whether this thought had occurred to anyone else, or whether it was her own military background that made her think of it.
“It was given me by Prince Halnor,” Jen Sha’na was saying as she took a step back from the table. “I’ve had it some time, but it came from his own hand.”
Nothing more likely. Ker saw the exchange of glances among Tutors and Seniors as others came to the same conclusion. The prince’s preference for military women was as famous as his generosity. The Cohort Leader was a handsome woman, and just the prince’s type.
Matriarch had picked the trinket up in her own hand, not letting so serious a Flashing be done by someone else. It seemed the whole great room didn’t breathe while the old woman held the ring. Ker pressed her hands hard between her knees. She’d give anything to be able to Flash the thing herself.
“They are captives,” Matriarch said. “They are together. The Luqs has a small injury, but she is otherwise well.” The silence that followed these words when Canlor had repeated them was more frightening than the uproar Kerida had expected. But the soldiers had relaxed, ever so slightly, now that they knew the Luqs was living.
“Can you tell us anything more, Matriarch? Can you Flash where they are being held?”
The old woman shook her head, but slowly. “I do not know the building myself as it is new since I have been in the capital. It fronts on the southwest, and has two towers and red doors.” She closed her eyes again, waited, and gave the tiniest shake to her head. “The prince has not worn this in some years. That is all I can Flash.” She held out the ring.
The Bear Cohort Leader leaned forward and murmured in Jen Sha’na’s ear. She nodded as she stepped up to retrieve her ring. “We know the building, Matriarch, thank you.”
“May we ask what is planned?” Talents lived apart from the world, objective and neutral, but that didn’t mean they weren’t curious. And precisely because of the objectivity, and the neutrality, their curiosity could be safely satisfied.
“We are mustering in Bren’s Ford, along with the Onyx, Ruby, and Pearl Cohorts of the Eagles.” Jen Sha’na gestured at the Bears’ Cohort Leader, who gave Matriarch a short bow. “Three Cohorts of Bears have joined us from the transit camp at Oste. Together, we’ll rescue the Luqs.” Jen Sha’na’s tone was very quiet and serene, for all that she spoke loudly enough to be heard by the whole assembly. There was certainty in that tone, and Kerida sat up a little straighter. That’s the way her sisters would have spoken.
“We must travel as quickly as we can. May we ask food of you? Whatever is already prepared and can be easily carried would be welcome.”
The Senior Cook and two of his assistants were on their feet, but when both the Head Cook and Matriarch held up their hands, they sat down again.
“You know that if we grant you help, then we must help the invaders also, should they ask it of us.”
“Matriarch?”
Canlor took up the task of speaking. “If these invaders are from Tolnida, as you suggest, then they have received the benefit of the Law. There are Halls there, from which you would—and will—be able to ask for provision and aid. We are neutral and apart, and we must show ourselves as such. That is the Law.”
Tolnida. Sometimes the Halls of Law sent Talents into new areas before the military got there. Tolnida had been such an area. Another source of conflict and rivalry between the Halls and the Wings.
The Cohort Leaders exchanged a look, clearly
unhappy, though how they could have expected a different answer Ker didn’t know. How could the Halls serve everyone equally, and fairly, and be trusted, if they took sides? Ker hadn’t thought about it this way before she came to the Hall herself. Of course, they would help if they were asked, and if they could, but now that request would also have to be honored if the invading army asked it.
“We understand.” This time Jen Sha’na’s tone left little doubt that while she understood, she didn’t like it much. Ker had to confess she felt the same way.
“Then if you send to the kitchen, the staff there will see to it.”
This time the Senior Cook and his assistants were allowed to leave their places and head for the kitchen.
“Kerida.” Barid jerked his head toward the doorway. “Go and help them.”
Ker tried not to look too eager as she shot to her feet. Anyone else would think his order was part of her punishment, but Barid understood how much she would value a chance to speak with the soldiers who would be sent to fetch the food. She couldn’t thank him aloud, she could only hope her gratitude showed in her eyes as she scurried to obey. A small taste of her old life and maybe a chance to learn something about her sister.
Minutes later Ker stood ready at the door to the storeroom to fetch and carry as needed. The Senior Cook and his first assistant were walking through the storage area consulting with each other, nodding, making notes on their lists, and pointing out what was wanted. Ker carried the selected items out to the big worktable in the center of the kitchen, cleared off now in preparation for the morning. The second assistant cook had brought Cana to help her, and the two of them stayed in the storeroom to set aside exact duplicates of what Kerida was carrying out. That, of course, was what made the Senior Cook’s discussions with his first assistant so complicated. The exact amount of whatever was given to the Eagles and Bears had to be set aside for the invaders, in case they also asked for help. That was the only way everyone could be sure that the Hall remained scrupulously neutral. It was a testament to the Senior Cook’s organization that the decisions on what could be spared were made so quickly.
The flow of food and supplies piling up on the big worktable slowed and finally stopped. Ker ran her eye over the result and calculated. Ten soldiers to a Barrack, ten Barracks to a Company, five Companies to a Cohort, five Cohorts to a Wing. There was enough food here to feed a whole Cohort for two days, though that wasn’t likely to be the way it got parceled out. Packs of hard travel cakes wrapped in oiled cloths had come out of the storeroom first, followed by small sacks of flour, corn and oat meals, and a dozen jars of preserved fruit. The Senior Cook and his two assistants counted over everything again, finally stopping to discuss the six fat, round clay pots, well-sealed with wax, that had come out of the storeroom last. From the markings, four of them contained roasted peppers preserved in oil, and two held cooked sausages congealed in their own fat. Neither would last anywhere near as long as the travel cakes, or even the jars of preserved fruit, but they wouldn’t last any longer here in the Hall. At least this way the officers of the Eagles and Bears would have a few days’ treat before they went back to eating the same travel cakes as everyone else.
Ker’s stomach growled, and Cana smiled. “Me, too,” she murmured, her eyes carefully looking elsewhere. She could have been talking to herself.
“They should bring their own sacks.” This was the Senior Cook, coming out one final time from the storeroom, leaving his assistant to close up behind him. “If not, they may use these.” He indicated a pile of very worn hessian sacks that had been used for bringing kindling into the kitchen.
Ker nodded; she knew better than to speak, but the others were already on their way out of the room. She grinned at their backs. They thought they were leaving her to the most menial part of the job, dealing with the soldiers who would complain about how little they were given, and perhaps even show their resentment, depending on what kind of officer came with them. But Ker found her spirits lifting. This would be a chance to speak to someone from the outside world. Perhaps even someone who knew her sister.
Finally, a knock came at the courtyard door. Smiling, Ker went to open it. The squad who arrived with their own packs to collect the food were led by one of the tallest men she had ever seen, wearing the purple tunic of the Bear Wing, the left sleeve red/brown for his Cohort, and the right sleeve green to show which Company he belonged to.
This soldier couldn’t be much older than she was, but he was at least a head taller. His skin was dark, but his hair was sandy, bleached by the sun to the color of a linen shirt that had been washed too many times, and his eyes were a pale gray, almost as colorless as his hair. Kerida knew the look of a broken nose when she saw one, and there was a scar along the outside of his left cheek.
He had to be an officer of some kind, but not important enough to have been one of the people with the Cohort Leaders in the great room—if he had been, Ker would have remembered him for his height if nothing else. No, he’d be some Barrack Leader, or a Third Officer at most. Someone more or less on her own level, in fact. At least the level she had when she wasn’t being disciplined.
He smiled at her when he walked in, and Ker smiled back. “These are your supplies,” she said. “On the table.”
The officer stayed close to her, letting the three soldiers with him go up to the table by themselves. “It’s not very much, is it? But I suppose that’s not your fault.” He smiled at her again. She hadn’t thought eyes so pale could look so warm.
“No, it isn’t. I mean.” Kerida cleared her throat. It really had been a long time since she’d spoken to anyone not in the Hall, but surely that wasn’t enough to tie her tongue? “I meant, it’s as much as we can spare to you.”
“A village would give us more than this.” One of the soldiers spoke without looking up from the goods he was packing.
“But they need your protection, and we don’t.” The last thing Ker ever expected was to find herself defending the Hall. “What we give, we give freely.”
“And to all.” The officer’s tone neither approved nor disapproved. His words were more a reminder than anything else. He turned to smile at her. “We weren’t able to bring a lot of supplies from Oste, so it’s good the Hall is in the mood to share.”
Ker leaned her hip against the station where she’d been cleaning the pots earlier and folded her arms, watching the officer out of the corner of her eye. The style of harness he wore was familiar to her; she’d had one like it herself. Straps of leather as wide as two fingers went around the waist and up over the shoulders, held in place by thinner straps and buckles. To this harness could be attached short sword and dagger, and the waist pouch that any traveler would carry. The harness was set up in such a way that mail could be worn under it, or body armor attached to it, depending on the wearer’s rank, and on the contents of his purse.
“Yes, it’s a brand-new harness.”
It had been days since anyone had spoken to her in such an open manner, and Ker started, taking half a step back before she realized what that might look like, and stood her ground. She wouldn’t want the soldier to think she was afraid of him. He smiled and moved a little closer.
“I think it looks rather fine, don’t you agree?”
Ker snorted and rolled her eyes. Now she was on comfortable ground. “Don’t hate yourself, do you?” She was pleased when his grin grew wider and his face even more open. She grinned back. “Anyone could tell your harness is new,” she told him. “It looks stiff as a billet of wood. Don’t you have any grease to soften the leather?”
“What do you know about it?” But still the tone was friendly.
“I’ve got two sisters in the field,” she answered. “One with the Emerald Cohort of the Eagle Wing. The other with the Panthers in the Battle Wings.” She felt a bit shy of mentioning her sisters’ ranks and, now that it came to it, Ker was afraid to ask about Ester. Not that
this Bear would be likely to know anything, she told herself.
“Really?” His interest seemed genuine and his face even friendlier. Ker was not surprised when his shoulders relaxed further and he stuck out his hand. “Tel Cursar,” he said. “At the moment, Third Officer, Green Company, Carnelian Cohort, Bear Wing.” Just what his sleeves had told her.
Ker grasped his wrist in the military way. His skin was warm, and his grip on her own wrist firm. Already Third Officer? He was young for that, but the Battle Wings promoted quickly, everyone knew that. “Kerida Nast. At the moment, fourth assistant kitchen serf, Questin Hall of Talent. I know where there’s a pot of grease no one will miss.” It seemed to her that Tel let go of her wrist more slowly than was necessary.
Yup, really doesn’t hate himself, she thought as she reached into the shelves under the cleaning stations. But she smiled as she thought it. “Here you are.”
Tel took the pot from her and tucked it into his pouch. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave, and Ker leaned on her washtubs once more.
“So with all your family connections, did you never think to come into the military?”
“I did, I was.” Ker frowned. She was acting like the kitchen serf he thought she was. “In fact, I had almost thirteen months with my sister’s Cohort after I left school.”
“Wait a minute. Your sister is Ester Nast? Emerald Cohort Leader of the Eagles? What happened? How did you go from that to, to ah . . .” Tel cut short his gesturing at the kitchen, as if he realized that any such reference could be offensive, and lose him any points his smiles and friendliness might have gained. “Were you injured?”
“No. I told you I was only the fourth assistant kitchen serf ‘at the moment.’ The rest of the time, when I’m not being disciplined, I’m a second-year Candidate here.” Now, since he knew who her sister was, it seemed a good time to ask. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me—”
Halls of Law Page 3