The Red Hand Captains wanted to dismiss it as high spirits. Solis didn't say anything; he chose to allow Captain Cordus to do all the arguing for some sort of punishment instead. Finally, it was decided that the two who'd caused the trouble had to pull night guard duty for a week. Night guard duty consisted of one or two nights before falling to someone else, so a week wasn't such a stretch. I thought that was rather light punishment for slicing up your allies, but I wasn't in charge and wasn't going to be. Not of this rabble.
The rain had finally stopped when we set out the following morning, but we were going to be traveling over extremely wet ground, which meant the wagons would likely be stuck within the first hour or two. They were in the middle of the marching army, since they carried supplies. I'm not sure whom they expected to attack for what we had—the food was terrible.
Our combined army consisted of three thousand Farus troops, twenty-five hundred Red Hand soldiers and a contingent of teamsters, coopers and blacksmiths. I wasn't counting the small group of camp followers that trailed along behind, both male and female. Honestly, we might have been better off with only a few hundred troops since we were going to a massacre, but some people tend to go for overkill.
Solis and I rode along the south side of the marching army, with other officers scattered up and down the line. My poor horse was dubbed Brownie, and he was quite patient with me since I hadn't ridden anything after my short stint on Falchan. Yes, the ass was sore at the end of the day. I mentally told it to get used to this and went on.
There wasn't much chance for the Regulars and Red Hand to get into altercations while we were on the march, but they found a way once we stopped for the day. "Come on, let's watch blade practice while we wait for dinner," Solis turned our horses over to the Regulars assigned to picket duty. I'd been about to take care of the horses myself, but that didn't seem to be my job. Instead, I gave Brownie a pat and followed Solis.
The evenings were the time to get in blade practice, or in many cases, blade lessons. We watched some clacking away with wood blades, out on the muddy ground. The new grass on the practice ground was wet and slippery, too, and the heavy boots of sparring troops had mud churned up in no time. If the soldiers weren't careful, they'd lose their footing and fall right into the muck.
I drew in a deep breath and almost went around Solis when I saw one of The Red Hand troops challenging the boy who'd dropped his practice sword in the dirt the first day. I didn't think he'd improved much in the four days since then, and The Red Hand soldier was comfortable with a blade, I saw that right off. Solis grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I gave him a swift glance; his face was set.
Perhaps I should have done something other than stand there and watch The Red Hand mercenary give the boy a beating. And when the young man slipped in the mud, the mercenary deliberately delivered a hard blow to the head. I don't know whether the others heard it but I did—the boy's neck snapped and he collapsed like a sack of spilled grain.
Solis didn't stop me this time; in fact, he was striding angrily beside me as we watched the mercenary deliver a kick to the already dead teen. Solis' shout had the mercenary backing up, however, and one of The Red Hand Captains was coming in—he was probably worried there'd be trouble. He was right.
"The boy's dead," Solis knelt beside the body.
"I wasn't expecting him to fall," the mercenary whined his excuse. I wanted to kill him, right then and there. It was all I could do to keep my eyes and fangs under control.
"Take the boy and call the General," Solis snapped to the Regulars that came running up at his shout.
That's how we ended up at another judgment that night, with the General and the High Commander weighing in. All the Captains had come as well, from both sides. Apparently, the mercenary was the High Commander's prized blademaster. His malevolent nature had led him straight to the most inexperienced youth in the Farus army.
"If your man was as experienced as you say, then he should have been expecting the fall—the others were falling in the muck," Cordus complained to a Red Hand Captain.
"But no one can predict when the fall might occur," The Red Hand Captain defended his position and the mercenary. We had set up the judgment in a clear spot outside the camp, far enough away that prying eyes and ears wouldn't be privy to the proceedings.
The entire Farus army was angry over the incident, although they hadn't treated the youth very well, either. Red Hand had overstepped their bounds and I was beginning to wonder if it wasn't intentional. After all, the new King of Farus had sent the bulk of the army his country could afford on an errand, when a fourth that number might have sufficed. However, his advisors might have been worried over the number of well-trained troops the Pelipu was sending, and that, in my opinion, was a legitimate concern.
"Your soldier knew the boy had no training; how could he not? He should have asked someone with more experience to spar with him," Cordus snorted.
"He merely wished to teach the boy."
"He was not teaching; I have many witnesses to that."
"All the witnesses are your own troops." The Red Hand Captain sounded bored.
"This is getting us nowhere," the High Commander stood. "I suggest one of our own traditions to decide this. Our man, with a blade, against the best you have. The one that survives, wins."
"That is not how we handle things," the General rumbled.
"It's the quickest way to settle this. We could be at this for days," the High Commander yawned to get his point across.
"Let me," I said softly to Solis. He turned to give me a concerned look as I knelt in my accustomed place next to his campstool.
"You're good, but not that good," Desmun muttered to me from his seat beside Solis.
"I like this," the High Commander grinned maliciously. "Your smallest female, against my most experienced blademaster? That's a joke."
"Are you sure you can do this?" Solis asked me quietly.
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't volunteer. Who would go otherwise?" I asked.
"I would," Solis answered. I'd already guessed at that and wondered then if this whole incident wasn't a set-up. The High Commander wanted command of the entire army—had from the beginning. What better way to assert his authority and prove that he should be in charge, since his were the better troops and all? What better way to discredit the General's leadership as well? Prove to all that he was weak and worthy only to be second-in-command, if that? Yeah, I was extremely distrustful of the Pelipu, who seemed to have his own best interests and ideologies at heart. Too bad he wasn't here to be scrutinized.
"I want the female to go against Mardis." The High Commander was pushing his agenda, now.
"Liss, are you sure?" Solis asked again.
"Most definitely," I nodded. Mardis deserved to die. He wasn't expecting to do anything other than kill whoever came against him and then hand total control of both armies to the High Commander. He had his sights set on Solis, who was the General's best swordsman.
"Bring Mardis," the High Commander smiled. Torches were brought, as was Mardis, and a fighting square was set by placing a torch in each corner. We had to stay in that area to fight. I was learning the High Commander's rules—if you stepped outside the square, you were declared the loser and beheaded as a coward. He had some fucked up rules, all right.
Solis, Cordus and Desmun all pulled me aside to talk to the General. "I'm not familiar with your skills, Liss, and I am placing my trust in you over this," he said softly. "If you are able, take him down swiftly."
"How fast do you want this to be?" I asked.
"As fast as possible." The General wasn't comfortable with this, I could tell. I could see the concern in his face, and that surprised me. The concern wasn't for what this might do to his command if I lost—the concern was for me.
"I'll make it fast," I nodded. Solis walked with me to the edge of the square. Mardis, wearing trousers only, was already inside the fighting square. He made quite a show of flexing bare arms and shoulders. Well, if there was a bigger asshole on Vionn, I hadn't met him yet.
I drew both my blades and checked them over, just to have something to do. "Think you to frighten me with two?" Mardis snorted. I didn't answer him. I was tempted to launch into a diatribe over what filth and scum he was, and that wouldn't do. Dragon and the other Falchani let their blades do the talking. Mine were about to sing.
"On my signal," the High Commander stood on the perimeter of the fighting square, as did the General and the Captains from both sides. I watched Mardis. There was no way I wanted any surprises from this asshole. I watched his left hand (which was gloved and clenched), and then noted where he was standing, extrapolating the movement he'd have to make if he threw something in my eyes. Yeah—he was a jerk on top of being an asshole. A deadly jerk.
The High Commander shouted and Mardis moved swiftly to fling his handful of pepper flakes, but not swiftly enough. I had enough time to close my eyes against the pepper he'd tossed in my face, but his head was already severed. I stood there, sneezing violently as our audience watched Mardis go to his knees and then topple over, his head rolling out of the fighting square.
I was led away between Solis and Desmun, still sneezing, my eyes watering from the pepper flakes that clung to my skin. I'd sheathed my blades, but I'd have to clean them when I could see properly again.
"Here," Solis handed a small towel that he'd drenched in water to me.
"The calf-brained idiot planned this," Desmun swore and paced along one wall of Solis' tent.
"More than likely with the High Commander's blessing," Solis agreed quietly. "Keep your voice down, Desmun. Do you want the spies to hear?" Solis watched me as I blinked; I was finally seeing better after washing my face twice. The sneezing had stopped, thankfully.
"Who taught you how to fight with blades?" Solis asked when things settled down and Desmun's curses had softened.
"My father-in-law," I answered honestly. If I'd done things my way, I'd have gone to mist, those pepper flakes would have gone right through and my claws would have severed Mardis' head.
"You're married." Solis said it flatly.
"Yes. Is that a problem?" My answer caused Solis to look up at Desmun.
"I'll never tell," Desmun muttered. "I've never seen anything like that. Those skills don't need to be hidden away in the home."
"Were you not aware that married females aren't supposed to join the army?" Solis was grinning at me, now.
"Had no idea. If it becomes a problem, though, just let me know. There are other things I can do." I could go to the opposition, to sit and wait for everybody to clash together before I made my final decision.
"I don't think I want you anywhere except right where you are," Desmun said. Solis nodded in agreement.
"We may move you over to the General, though," Solis said. "Warn, his bodyguard is good, but he's not the best. I can trade off and take Warn for mine. Shouldn't be a problem."
"Message for Captain Solis," a runner stood outside our tent. Desmun went to pull back the tent flap, inviting the young man inside. He handed the rolled-up scroll to Solis, who broke the seal.
"The General is thinking the same thing," Solis said, standing up and stretching. He and I had been sitting on the two campstools he had inside the tent. "Come on, Liss, you'll be guarding the General from now on. Mind you, if he isn't kept safe, you'll answer to me." I gathered up my things and followed Solis and Desmun from the tent, the nearly forgotten runner trailing behind us.
"Warn, I trust you don't mind acting as bodyguard to Captain Solis," the General said.
"Of course not, sir," Warn dipped his head to the General.
"Take your things to my tent," Solis said, and Warn nodded to him as well before leaving to gather his belongings.
"Desmun, go out and see what the Regulars are saying about Mardis' death. I want to know if there are any rumors we need to dampen," the General ordered. Desmun nodded and left the tent. "I'd like to know what Red Hand is saying as well, but they've tightened their perimeters and we can't get a single spy through right now," the General raked a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Now, young woman, I want to know where it is you learned to fight like that."
"Her father-in-law taught her," Solis grinned.
"Laws were made to be ignored, eh?" The General laughed.
"I think I might be able to sneak over, if you really want to know what Red Hand is saying," I told Solis and the General.
"Liss, that could cost you your life and I wouldn't be able to stop them if they caught you," the General said. "Maybe in a night or two, when things have settled down. They have spies, I have spies. It's a terrible world when you can't trust your allies, isn't it?"
"Allies," Solis snorted. "This is the cat inviting the tiger to help him hunt the mouse. It's not just the mouse in danger, here." I felt the same way, but I wasn't about to voice my opinion and I wondered why these two were suddenly discussing everything so freely in front of me.
"We have a weapon against you, should you turn against us," the General smiled grimly. "You can be put to death for enlisting as a married woman."