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Frays In The Weave 23 Sacrifice: 1

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"Don't understand them. Never have," Kalvar said. "They shrug away a mage sp.a.w.ned khraga, no offence Ma'am," he nodded at Gring who bared her tusks in return, her version of a smile, "but a woman in command has them take leave of their brains."

"You had better apologize to the lady anyway. Mage sp.a.w.ned and khraga in one sentence was twice uncalled for." Trindai smiled. Gring wouldn't take offence where none was meant, but Major Terwin could do with the occasional reminder of politeness.

Kalvar reddened slightly. "I apologize Ma'am. That was rude. Not many mage sp.a.w.ns nor khraga where I come from." He had a twinkling star in his eye. The only man Trindai knew who was able to smile from his eyes down to his lips.

"Good thing you have both honour and bravery. One could mistake you for a true warrior-born human." Gring showed even more tusk.

Kalvar visibly straightened, and Neritan, who had been silent this far, filled the tent with laughter. Trindai soon drowned it with a happy roar of his own.

"What?" Kalvar sagged slightly in his chair.

Darkness, but she's a quick study. "You've been had man, twice, and you didn't even notice it!" Trindai rose and slapped the major on his shoulders. "Who'd known. Not a mere imperial major this one, but rather a fierce khragan warrior."

Kalvar darkened, but then he lit up again and shrugged. "I deserved that, I did. I'll buy us a bucket of ale when we pa.s.s Lianin's wagon next time."

"Good to see some good use of your shiny coins," Gring answered, and then she managed to show even more of her tusks, a sign that she wasn't finished by far yet, "but what will you have to drink?"

"Eh?"

"You mean to share a single bucket? Maybe not a warrior after all."

Trindai saw the tent flaps pulled aside and made room for Captain Weinak and Major Berdaler as they entered.

"I thought we were called to a war council," the latter said.

Trindai moved aside to give Ingeld Berdaler the full worth of Kalvar's stricken face.

The tent exploded in another round of laughter.

Trindai waited for the mirth to settle down. They had deserved a good laugh, needed on. "This is a war council I'm afraid," he said, and at once the friendly banter was gone and he faced the stern expressions he'd come to recognize. Unholy G.o.ds, but they're tired! "We have a problem with the outworlders."

That met with more surprise than consternation.

"From what I've seen Major Goldberger runs a superb command," Ingeld suggested.

"He does. Not a problem with personnel. Logistics." Trindai dug his fingers into his beard. More ash than earth in there now, he thought. Same with my hair as well. I'm growing old. "The hovercraft will run until long after we're all dead, Mindwalker Hwain excepted, of course," he added guiltily, "but the body walkers they use aren't as st.u.r.dy. They fuel them from the hovercraft but small parts of the machines are breaking down and they have almost no spare parts left."


Nakora stared blankly, but Kalvar came to her rescue. "So they need to resupply. When are they leaving?"

"Leave? They can't leave." Nakora suddenly looked scared.

And you have reason to. "That's our best scouts and screen," Trindai agreed. "Strange how fast you take outworlder wonders for granted." He gave Nakora an unhappy look. Seems I can't see you in that uniform for a while, and now for the worst. "They were sent here. Somehow. Still doesn't make them our soldiers. I'd commit treason if I allowed them to enter Keen unescorted."

Nakora sunk deep into her chair. "How many," she asked, and her voice was but a hollow whisper.

"Half I'm afraid. We'll travel on the hovercraft, so the horses will have to stay. The horse masters stay with the horses, and I'll leave a full squadron under you command."

"Thirty men."

Thirty men, and only twenty of them fully trained. Handling horses took a skill of its own. He knew. "I've spoken with young Graig. You are his commander as well now."

Nakora brightened a little. With Karia Graig's twenty riders her command would be back almost to full strength, but Trindai knew the young n.o.bleman from Belgera and his men were not a fair replacement for the superbly trained soldiers he was about to take with him.

"Mindwalkers Khat and Hwain will stay. Keep them close. I don't trust that sorry excuse for a command they forced on you in Ri Khi." There, now it was in the open. Nakora paled. Unholy G.o.ds! What p.i.s.s poor kingdom gives soldiers to a commander she has good reasons to fear more than an enemy? "Not even under major Terwin's command," Trindai added.

"Kalvar stays?" A glimmer of hope spread over her face.

"Major Terwin stays," Trindai confirmed, and Nakora let out a long breath of relief. "He's promised to keep up their training." Which should have them too tired to show any interest in you, and keep their resentment firmly aimed at Kalvar.

"A bit unruly. Should still be possible to make good soldiers of them," Kalvar said and grinned.

"Maybe you can," Trindai lied in return. They would never become good soldiers. Too important, too powerful. Soldiers should never be powerful. Soldiers were weapons, nothing more, and no one should be ruled by a weapon.

They had to leave. He hadn't been entire honest with them. The outworlders had spent a lot of time guarding the hovercraft the last eightdays. The craft was breaking down, and Goldberger had been adamant about it posing a greater danger to them all than any nomad band bent on attacking the caravan.

Nor were the outworlders running out of spare parts. Major Goldberger had said as much. Half of their body walkers were beyond repair, and the nightmarish battle in Belgera had left them with insufficient ammunition even for the three that still functioned. The weapons they had captured were more than enough for their needs on the way back to Verd. Trindai has asked for them to be left with his remaining men, but unlike crossbow quarrels ammunition for outworlder weapons could never be reused, and there was simply not enough of it left for training. In the end they had agreed to mount one gun fitted with field gla.s.ses on a wagon. Close to two hundred outworlder missiles. Enough for hunting gherin.

He walked out into the sunlight. The ground was already baking hard under his feet. The days of struggling with mired wagons were over. From now on they would make good progress on their way home. There was at least that.

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Frays In The Weave 23 Sacrifice: 1 summary

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