Indomitus Est (The Fovean Chronicles) (42 page)

    
“The Fovean nations?” Drekk asked.  “You think they will pay us to fight for them?  Why?”
     “Because the numbers in national armies are limited,” I said, “and the warriors are expensive to house and to feed.  They cost a lot to replace – we just gave Conflu a lesson in that.  It is more economical to use us than for the Fovean nations to fight their own wars.

    
“As well, there is no law against us.  Our actions are our own.  We can work discreetly to fulfill national objectives that might not otherwise get fulfilled.”

    
They were silent, digesting that.  These were intelligent people, with high ambitions.  They could read the plan.

    
“Where do you get the soldiers?” Genna asked.  That formed the crux to the whole situation.  If Genna asked it, then in her current state of mind she wanted to punch holes in the idea.

    
“From everywhere,” I said.  “Outcast people, treated unfairly, or just too beaten down to cope.  Free Legion soldiers will be the chaff of every nation, with allegiance to none.  They won’t care who we are fighting against, because they have a grudge against them all.”

    
“What use are such men?” Nantar asked.  “You can’t make an army from beggars and thieves – no offense, Drekk.”

    
Drekk had taken the platter and imitated my sandwich.  “None taken,” he said from greasy lips.

    
I had gotten the idea from the French Foreign Legion.  They never wanted for men, even today.  I told them about the land with a multinational army, held by one country, how little it cost to maintain, easy to recruit for and extremely efficient.  Sometimes men really only need a second chance to start over.

    
D’gattis’ manservant had returned with another platter.  He lowered it elegantly before me - a tomato, a few leaves of lettuce and a brick of cheese, reminding me of my muttered comment.  I took a few slices of the tomato and one of the cheese, and added them with a leaf of lettuce to my half-eaten sandwich.

    
Half the room watched me as Nantar beckoned to the man to bring him the meat platter.

    
“The world
is
full of outcasts,” D’gattis admitted as this progressed.

    
Now they were all nodding, chewing or both.

    
“Where do we go to find them?” Arath asked.

    
“Eldador,” Ancenon said. 

     There were private rooms for all of us; Shela and I actually had a pile of furs in ours.  Suffice to say we had christened them.

    
Afterwards she wanted to run errands in town.  I gave her my pouch with all of my remaining coins in it.  She kissed me and left without a comment.

    
Genna didn’t take long to find me in my room afterwards, leaning on my doorframe, blocking my exit.

    
“She’s pretty,” she said.  “Healthy.  Young.”

     I
shook my head.  “Yeah, I could tell how much you liked her.”

    
“Lupus, I just hope you are happy with her.”

    
I could see the strain in her face.  It hurt her to walk, to climb the tower stairs, to face me.

    
I had been dreading this and now I faced it.

    
“Genna, if I hadn’t taken her from Kills With a Glance I would have had to fight the whole tribe.”

    
“You seemed willing to fight the Confluni nation.”

    
“And if I could have taken one of their daughters instead, I would have done it.”

    
“So this girl is nothing to you?”

    
I didn’t answer.  I knew the answer, but I couldn’t say it to Genna.

    
Which told her the answer right there.

    
“Glad to see what we had meant so much to you, Lupus,” she said.  “You are a great guy.”

    
“Genna, I did not pretend –“

    
“No,” she shrieked, her hand on the hilt of one of her knives.

    
“You don’t leave me here, go out and round yourself up another lay, and then come back and tell me this is
my
fault, Lupus.”

    
“I am not saying –“

    
“You don’t tell me that I should have expected this.  You don’t tell me that what you felt for me meant nothing.”

    
I looked into her green eyes and held them.  She didn’t deserve this and it felt
so
wrong. 

    
But I couldn’t feel for her.  I couldn’t love her, and I couldn’t tell her that now.  No matter what I said, she would look at Shela and believed I had lied.

    
“I,” I said, then hesitated.  Tears ran down her cheeks.

    
“I am not trying to tell you anything.”

    
She left.  I heard the door to her room close.  I heard mutterings in the tower that I couldn’t make out, although I admit I barely tried.

     Later that night, I sat alone in the sitting room with Thorn, Shela’s head in my lap as she slept.  The rest had gone upstairs, except for Genna who had never come back down.

    
But now, I sipped the strong, warm ale from D’gattis’ vat and said nothing.

    
“Genna didn’t take this well,” Thorn said.

    
“There’s an understatement.”

    
He regarded me.  He had been there and I could see that even he had his doubts.  Why shouldn’t he?  I did.

    
“You know,” I finally said, “I thought I had married her.”

    
“Shela?”

    
“Yeah.”

    
Thorn looked at me.  “There was no ceremony.”

    
“No,” I said.  “I come from a land where the slaves were emancipated.  We think it is a good idea to have none.”

    
“Ah,” Thorn nodded.  “I think Shela will want no emancipation, Lupus.”

    
I smiled and stroked her long, black hair.  “She does seem so committed.”

    
“She is doing her tribe proud,” Thorn said, leaning forward, very serious.  “For you to marry her, you would have to join the tribe, and that would mean a certain amount of scarring, knowing the ways of the plains, the other tribes.  It would require being accepted by the whole tribe, and every beast in it.  That would take you years.

    
“In this way, she can still bear you sons and have no worry that they are raised outside of our tradition.  By keeping you happy and safe, she makes her personal sacrifice for the Long Manes, and walks proud among them, even though, by our laws, you could trade her any time you wanted, change her name, even beat her in public.”

    
I smiled even wider.  “I think that this one doesn’t lend herself to being beaten in public.”

    
Thorn laughed and took a long pull of his drink, then got up to his feet, grunting.  “That one is a Sorceress, Lupus.  In the North, they have Wizards, who study in universities and squint over parchment to cast intricate spells.  In the South, we have Sorceresses, born to Power, taught in the oral tradition.  They are few, but they are mighty.  There are few Wizards looking to fight a Sorceress to the death, because they do
not
win.  Or do you think that a common slave girl could back down our D’gattis?”

    
I didn’t know or hadn’t considered any of this, and said so.

    
“Then know this, Lupus,” he added, walking for the stairs.  “I saw her eyes when we came to the tribe, and knew her for what she was.  She fell for you when you rode up on that big, white horse in your bright, shiny armor.  She could have taken that horse from you and made us all believe that you gave it, and Kills isn’t above that at all.  It is probably why he brought us to his tribe.”

    
Then he stood and climbed up the stairs, leaving me to think.  When I looked down at Shela, her eyes were open.

    
“You heard it all?” I asked.

    
“I wouldn’t dishonor you by going to sleep before you, unless you told me to.”

    
“Is it true?”

    
She closed her eyes, long enough for me to believe that she wouldn’t answer.  Then she opened them and looked up into mine. 

    
“Yes, I am a Sorceress,” she said, finally.  “And yes, my father wanted that horse, and he knew that I could take it.  I suggested that he make the trade.  What more do you need to know?”

    
I stroked her hair, and then tweaked her nose to make her laugh.  “Nothing.”    

    
“Well,” she said, “know this.  I knew, as well, that you thought that you were marrying me.  In your heart, you took me as your wife.  In my heart, I gave you that, even though it would shame my whole tribe.  It would ruin me inside if you were to decide that I was anything less than the woman you married, White Wolf, who is called Lupus, who is called Rancor and Mordetur and perhaps by other names.”

    
“You mean with Genna – “ I began.

    
She shook her head.  “This Genna’s sickness speaks for her, White Wolf.  You feel guilty for the happiness you feel, and you look to cloak the happiness in the guilt.

    
“Genna’s misery is her own and you partake of it of your own will.”

    
This stunned me.  All the guilt, all the pain, Genna crying –

    
“I am your slave, White Wolf, but I would have the spot in your heart that is reserved for a wife,” she said.  “You can choose not to give it, but
that
is how you would ruin me inside.”

    
“The only way I plan to ruin you inside,” I said, leaning down to kiss her, “would be to let you know that, in my family, the children are usually born with
very
large heads.”

    
She kissed me, then she punched me several times, smiling with a tear in her eye.

    
“And now there is a thing I would know,” she said.

    
Ugh – I knew what that meant.  Did you love her, do you love her, does Shela have to worry?  How do you answer those questions, when you
know
the person asking has already made up their mind on the answer?

    
“Anything,” I said, and braced myself.

    
“What was that wonderful thing we ate?”

    
I felt my face open up in a smile.  What could have better expressed the mind of this woman, my slave girl, my
wife
, Shela.