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.
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.
"It's a farm." I saw no one understood and tried again. "There weren't any tailors or fancy cloths. We made our clothes from the wool we got from our sheep, and as I have three older brothers, most of mine were hand-me-downs. By the time I got them, they were brown, lumpy and scratchy—and you don't want to know what my ma's homemade soap did to them." My skin started to itch in memory. "Hell, lads, is wearing handwoven smalls," I said over the laughter, "and I've earned every fine shirt I have.”
After we finished dinner and the guard rota was set up, I crawled into my tent to sleep. I settled down in my bedding as the flap opened and Jeff came in. He was quiet as he got into his bedroll, and I started to drift off.
"You could have said something," Jeff said.
I blinked sleepily. "Huh?"
"You keep too many damn secrets, Rabbit."
"Said what?”
"About your parents. The magical. The feather."
I was waking up fast. "We all have secrets—" I began.
"Not like these. My secrets aren't anything like yours."
That was probably very true.
"Ibn Chause e Flavan," Jeff said.
"I'm still me," I said. "I haven't changed."
"Yeah, but who are you?"
When I awoke the next morning, Jeff was gone and his bedroll was neatly rolled up in the corner with his saddlebags. I took extra care over my prayers, figuring that I needed all the help I could get. I then grabbed my razor, soap and a towel, lifted the tent flap and went out into the sunshine. I came to an abrupt halt, though, as I ran into Captain Suiden. He and Lieutenant Groskin were in front of my tent, both facing Laurel Faena, Suiden with his arms folded, Groskin with his hand on his sword hilt. Behind the Faena stood the troopers, a few making warding signs against evil, but most with their hands also on their swords.
Laurel looked as he had when I'd met him yesterday. He had the same embroidered coat, the same staff, the same feathers and beads woven into his tawny head fur and ears. Both ears now were pressed forward as his eyes met mine. He gave a small bow, as if we were chance-met acquaintances on market day. "Lord Rabbit.”
A mutter went through the men at the honorific, and hard looks started coming my way too.
"Assure your men, honored captain," Laurel said, his voice a deep rumble, "that I mean no harm.”
"It's kind of hard to believe that when you're found slipping and sneaking into camp," Groskin said, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. A snarl of agreement went through the troop, and Ryson, standing a little apart from the rest, muttered something I couldn't hear. Several nodded and began to pull their swords from their scabbards.
Suiden cast a glance at the men and everyone quieted, those withdrawing their swords freezing midpull.
"What do you mean?" the captain asked, looking back at the cat.
"Peace," the Faena said, his whiskers sweeping back in what I'm sure he meant to be a harmless smile.
His sharp eyeteeth glistened white in the sunshine.
I could hear the breeze softly whisper over the lea's grass in the sudden silence. Then Laurel laughed, a deep chuffing sound, at Suiden's politely incredulous look. "I speak truth, honored captain. But perhaps we can discuss it in private?" He gestured at my rather goosepimply bare chest. "After Lord Rabbit gets dressed.” What the hell? I cast a wild look at the Faena at his intimation that I was to join their counsels, only to catch sight of Suiden's face. The captain's gaze rested on me for an eternity. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant," he said finally.
"Yes, sir!" I said and was by the cookfire before my next heartbeat. Behind me, I could hear Groskin growling at the men to put their bloody swords away and didn't they have duties and if not he could find some for them if they insisted on lollygagging about. There was the sound of hurried feet as the troopers cleared, fast.
I waited a moment for my breathing to even out and then asked the duty cook for hot water.
"Of course, Lieutenant," Basel said, saluting.
"Damn it, Basel, stop that," I said, scowling at him.
"Yes, sir," Basel said. He reached down and produced a bowl. "I found strawberries growing over there"—Basel indicated a sunny spot against a large boulder—"and I saved some for your porridge, knowing how particular you are in your food, Lieutenant.” Nothing like being toadied before breakfast.
Before I could respond, a sour smell washed over me. I checked my feet to see if I had stepped in anything.
"It's Lord Rabbit, Basel," Ryson said, several troopers trailing behind him. Far behind. The smell was coming from him, his wet clothes had mildewed.
"You're rancid, Ryson," I said.
"You've no idea," Ryson's tentmate muttered.
"Why didn't you put your clothes out last night to dry by the fire?" I asked.
"Of course, Lord Rabbit." He batted his eyelashes. "Forgive us, Lord Rabbit. We don't know clothes like you do, Lord Rabbit."
"That's enough, you sheep-biting, fornicating weasel—” Jeff grabbed my arm and pulled me away. No one wanted to touch Ryson, but a couple of the men got in front of him. Their eyes watered as the wind shifted. "Have your wits gone lacking?" Jeff asked, his voice soft. "You want the captain or Groskin to hear you?” Ryson and I stopped trying to get at each other and everyone did a quick search. The tension drained as we located Suiden and Groskin still standing with Laurel Faena.
I shrugged away from Jeff and went back to the fire. The water was gently bubbling. I took a washpot and poured some in it.
"If a Faena wants to call you high emperor of the universe, reign without end, you say fiat," I said, quickly lathering my face. "They see things that no one else does. A different reality."
"So this is your reality, Lord Rabbit?" Jeff said.
"I don't know. Don't call me that."
"Ibn Chause e Flavan. How many degrees are they?”
"Thirty-two and forty," Ryson put in. He smirked at my stare. "It's amazing how Commander Ebner's voice carries. Even in his office."
Eavesdropping, spying weasel—
"So, that's what?" Jeff asked. "Seventy-two ancestors you share with the king?”
I turned away from both Ryson and Jeff and began to shave. "Give it a rest. My parents laid that down before I was born. I can't come dancing in and pick it up again."
"Could've fooled me last night," Jeff said.
I paused in midswipe of my razor, remembering my snit when the men froze me out of setting up the camp. Well, how observant of him—and how nice of him to throw it in my face in front of everyone. I finished shaving and rinsed the soap off. "Yeah, well, you were all being twits—" I broke off as I caught Groskin moving over towards us. Laurel and Suiden were ducking into the captain's tent.
Ryson saw the same thing and blanched. He produced a tiny sliver of soap and began to strip. "Quick, Basel, hot water. Groskin said if I don't clean up, he's going to douse me in the stream back yonder.” We all cast a glance at the stream full of snowmelt running across the back of the lea, and a collective shudder went through us at the fear that Groskin might decide that we all needed a bath. Basel hurriedly poured water into another washpot while I emptied mine out. Jeff grabbed a stick and lifted Ryson's uniform into my pot, and Basel poured hot water over that too.
I sized up Ryson's fragment of soap and the size of his stink. "Here," I said, thrusting my towel and soap at Ryson.
"He'll need more," Jeff said. "I'll go get some." He took off at a trot and, after a moment, I did too, thinking to go finish dressing in my tent and play least in sight for a while.
Suiden didn't send for me until after breakfast. Until then, I joined the rest of the troop in doing small housekeeping chores, like mending my tack. It didn't look like we were moving out soon. Ryson had to relaunder everything, and he walked around camp with a borrowed blanket wrapped around him. This time he hung his clothes and bedding around the cookfire to dry out. (Groskin threatened to make Ryson wear his wet uniform again, muttering about the indignity of Ryson's bare arse and the camp looking like a wash yard, but Ryson's tentmate was very impassioned about the smells of manure and mildew in small tents, and the lieutenant relented.) I was standing at the edge of the lea staring down at the city, wondering how it got misplaced during our last patrol, when I felt someone touch my arm.