Covenants (2 page)

"A magical," Commander Ebner said. He smoothed his mustache. "This close to town."

"Yes, sir," Captain Suiden said.

"Dismiss your men, Captain, and come with me." Commander Ebner wheeled his horse and noticed the troopers still gathered in the horse yard. He waved his hand at them and the other captains gave orders to stand down.

"Lieutenant Groskin," Captain Suiden said. "Please dismiss the men." He then followed the commander to the stables.

We barely waited for Groskin's bellow of "Dismissed!" before scattering like beetles from under an overturned rock.

It was too much to hope for that the groomers hadn't heard what happened, but I managed to get out of the stables somewhat whole. (I was a little bruised when I accidentally bumped into Groomer Hedley while he was in the middle of a funny story about blind horsemen. I apologized and helped him up but darned if I didn't bump into him again. Clumsy me. I got to my barracks and headed for my cot. I needed to hide the feather and I figured the best place for it was in my footlocker. Under the guise of changing out of my uniform, I shoved the feather under a stack of my smalls and for the first time in days I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Sheesh, don't be such a priss, Rabbit. A little dirt won't hurt you."

I looked up and saw Jeffen at his cot next to mine. He grinned at me. "Who'd think that a farm boy from the Border would be such a coxcomb?”

"Heigh-ho, if you'd take a bath now and again, maybe, just maybe, you'd get lucky." I grinned back as I slipped on my dressing robe and shut my locker. "Then again, maybe not. A bath wouldn't improve your face.”

"Pound sand, peacock," Jeff said. "The lovely ladies lust after my luscious, uh, body.”

"Yeah, right." I turned away, thinking to go to the baths and hide out in the steam. "They'd have to use a shovel to find it first—"

"Border puke.”

Blast. I stopped. Blocking me was Lieutenant Slevoic. Lieutenant Groskin liked to browbeat gentlemen's sons. Slevoic liked to hit. Anyone. Next to him stood Ryson, and behind them Slevoic's nasties and hanger-ons.

"Sir!" I said.

"I heard that you were playing pattyfoot with a magic mutant, puke," Slevoic said.

"Captain Suiden hasn't given me leave to discuss that, sir!" I watched Ryson drop his smirk.

Slevoic laughed and leaned into me. "He's not here—"

"Heed Captain!”

At the shout I was very careful not to let any relief show on my face. I looked to the side, expecting to see Captain Suiden at the door and found myself staring into Suiden's face. Slevoic and friends were so intent on intimidating me that they hadn't noticed the captain's approach, and no one felt the need to inform them. I froze where I was and saw the captain's eyes shift.

"Trooper Ryson."

"Sir!”

"You will report immediately to the stable master for detail duty.” This time I was careful not to grin as Ryson hurried out of the barracks. Cleaning tack and shoveling muck while listening to Groomer Hedley's funny stories might curb his appetite for weaseling.

The captain's eyes shifted back to me and his brows rose at my robe. 'Trooper Rabbit."

"Sir!"

"I assume there's a reason why you're wearing that."

"I was going to the baths, sir!”

"I see. If you would, then, please wait a moment." He turned to Slevoic. "Is there a reason why you're in my barracks, Lieutenant?”

"We just wanted to visit with our friends, sir," Slevoic said.

"Oh?" Suiden asked. "You expect to find some here?" Slevoic opened his mouth, but the captain cut him off. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. Now.” Suiden didn't say anything for a count of ten after Lieutenant Slevoic and company had left; then all he said was that we would wait for Lieutenant Groskin to arrive from the stables, which he soon did. Captain Suiden made sure we were all accounted for, then had Groskin shut the door.

"Listen up, men. You are to remain in the barracks by order of the commander. You will not leave nor will you receive visitors. Evening meal will be delivered." The captain caught sight of my robe again. "So will ample water for those of you who desire to wash. Lieutenant Groskin, remain here to make sure that these orders are obeyed. That is all."

"Captain?" Lieutenant Groskin asked.

"I will talk with you when I return, Lieutenant." Captain Suiden turned to me. "Rabbit, you're with me."

"Permission to change into my uniform, sir," I said.

Captain Suiden actually smiled. "No. Commander Ebner will get over the robe, eventually, but he wants us there a couple of moments ago." At that, he turned and headed for the door as I followed.

When we arrived at the commander's quarters, we were ushered immediately into his presence. We stood at attention, the candlelight highlighting my robe's vivid blues, reds and purples, and I wondered what the commander had heard about me, because his mustache stayed still.

"At ease, men. Sit down," Commander Ebner said, as his aide shut the door. We waited for him to sit; then we seated ourselves in the chairs drawn up to his desk. I made sure that there were no gaps in my robe, as I didn't want to flash my superior officers.

The commander fished out a piece of paper from a neat stack. 'Trooper Rabbit, no patronymic. Father, Lord Rafe ibn Chause, third brother of the current Lord Chause; mother, Lady Hilga eso Flavan, daughter of the current Lord Flavan—”

"They've taken the names Two Trees and Lark, sir," I said.

"—who thirty years ago renounced their Houses and moved to the Border to become farmers"—Commander Ebner read a little further—"and weavers." He sighed and set aside the paper.

"Why did you leave the Border, Trooper Rabbit?”

How does one rebel against rebels? My parents had cast off the privileges of position and rank to raise their family in the Border, unfettered by hypocrisy and oppressing conformity, to embrace earth, cottage goods, and the fae that lived wild and free, uncorrupted by the effluence of human governance. Fiat.

So, how did I one-up that? I ran away to the city and became a horse soldier in the Royal Army of King Jusson Golden Eye.

"I wanted to see the world, sir," I replied.

Commander Ebner looked back down on the paper. "Thirty-two degrees to the throne with Chause, and forty degrees with Flavan." He looked up at me again. "You could have joined at Iversly and become an officer, perhaps even a royal guard."

"I'm not an aristo, sir. I'm a farmer's son.”

He looked at my robe. "Hmm. Yes." He shifted in his chair. "You met a Faena during this last patrol."

"Yes, sir.”

"Do you know the history of Iversterre?" Commander Ebner asked.

"Yes, sir. Or at least a version of it."

"Hmm, I'm sure," the commander said. "We have our own version too. The truth probably falls somewhere in the middle.” I silently disagreed, remembering the long-lived elves' tales of harryings, burnings and killings.

"There were magicals here once," Commander Ebner said. "But as the kingdom expanded, the magicals withdrew—until Iversterre reached what is now the Border. Then all hell broke loose."

"The Border War, Rabbit," Captain Suiden said.

"Yes," Commander Ebner said, "with the Border army led by these Faenas." He smoothed his mustache.

"We were spanked hard, trooper, and sent to bed without our supper. A most shocking and humiliating defeat. We were very fortunate that they allowed us to sue for peace, and now we ignore the Border, hoping very hard that it ignores us back.”

It didn't. The Border was very much aware of its southern neighbor, like a pebble in the shoe or a grain of sand in the eye.

"My grandfather was one of the lucky few to come home," Ebner said. "Grandpapa used to tell us stories of how even the trees—" He broke off. "Well, enough of that."

"Yes, sir," I said.

The commander leaned forward. "Now one of my units comes back a week late from what should've been a routine patrol saying that they were lost a half day's ride from and in plain view of home, that there was a magical—a Faena!—where there've been none since before my greatgrandfather's time, and that a trooper made a pact with it. After which this Faena showed said troop the way home. What do you think the Lord Commander will say to that?"

"Uh," I said.

"Right." Ebner sat back in his chair and I watched his mustache ruminate. Captain Suiden was staring at a candle. The garrison commander sighed again. "Well, there's no help for it. We have to find out what's going on."

"Sir?”

"And since you're the only one who has any knowledge of these Faena outside of old war stories and children's tales, I'm sending you.”

"Me, sir?"

"Captain."

"Sir," Captain Suiden replied.

"You and your men will leave tomorrow morning and go back to where you found the magical."

"Yes, sir.”

"There you will find out what it wants and report back to me." Commander Ebner stood and we did likewise. "I trust your judgment, Suiden." The commander's mustache flattened against his cheeks. "Just don't start another war. I don't want to have to fight trees.”

The trumpet awakened us all at sunrise and from three cots down I could smell Ryson, ripe from his tour of duty in the stables. Apparently he had fallen into bed without undressing.

As I rose and stumbled through my morning routine, I kept catching eyes on me. I hadn't been pumped about my meeting with the commander and captain because Groskin took Suiden's ban on visiting to extend to us gossiping, so the air was heavy with speculation, all aimed at me. Finally I took refuge from the covert glances by sitting back down on my cot and working through my morning prayers.

"Heed Captain!”

At the shout, I quickly finished and opening my eyes, stood. I wasn't exactly the last but close enough to get the eye from Lieutenant Groskin, who had followed the troop captain into the room. I checked to see that my trousers were draped properly over my boots, and looked up in time to see the lieutenant suck in a deep breath.

"Lieutenant," Captain Suiden said.

Groskin sputtered as the air escaped again.

"At ease," Captain Suiden said. He waited until we were somewhat relaxed. "Our leave has been canceled.” It was the troop's turn to suck air as we stared at our captain. He looked back, his brown eyes calm.

"You are to outfit for an extended tour. The mission's parameters will be explained once we are en route.

That is all. Lieutenant Groskin, with me." They both left the building.

I went to my footlocker to start packing, ignoring the now outright stares from my mates.

"What the poxy hell is going on, Rabbit?" Jeffen whispered at me.

"I can't talk about it, Jeff." I bent over to open my locker.

"It's about that damn feather, isn't it?”

I straightened so fast I felt my spine pop and stared at Jeff. "You've been in my locker.”

"No. As if I didn't see you with it. Bright red, Rabbit, just like the ones the magical had," Jeff replied.

I looked down at the drab of my uniform and realized that the feather had to have glowed against it. I raised my head again as the aroma of stables engulfed me.

"Border freak," Ryson said, crowding close. "What the hell did you do?" The rest of the troop gathered around, listening hard.

"Back off, Ryson," I said, bringing my arms up to shove him away.

"What's going on here?" Lieutenant Groskin growled from behind us.

My arms dropped and my spine popped again as we jumped to attention.

"Sir! We were just wondering if Trooper Rabbit had anything to do with our canceled leave, sir!” I heaved a mental sigh. Ryson had less sense than a defective sheep.

"Oh, so you think Trooper Rabbit tells the commander what to do?" Groskin asked. My spine stiffened even more at his smile.

"Sir, no, sir! But maybe he had something to do with us getting lost in the first place, sir!" Ryson replied.

Groskin's smile widened and his eyeteeth seemed to lengthen. "How, trooper?"

"Uhm, he's from the Border, sir?"

"And?”

"Maybe he knows some, uh ... I mean, he's always praying, sir!"

"So that got us lost?"

I was praying hard that Groskin's response to Ryson's stupidity wouldn't spill onto me. "He has a feather, sir. From the magical," Jeffen said.

I felt as if I had been slugged in the gut.

"You think that we don't know this?”

It was quiet enough to hear the flags gently flapping in the breeze outside on the commongrounds. Inside, we all stood so straight that we could be used as straightedges, our faces as impassive as stone. I could hear the lieutenant purr as he looked us over and I realized that we had reached his ideal—completely cowed.

"Ryson, you smell like manure." Groskin walked over to a water barrel and thumped the side to see how much water was in it. "You will launder yourself, your bedding, uniform, and anything else you've touched before we leave. Is that clear, trooper?"

"Yes, sir."

"I can't hear you."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"The rest of you, pack!"

We packed.

After breakfast I went back to my locker for one last check to make sure that I hadn't forgotten anything.

I saw the feather, red against the white of my smalls. I picked it up and, after a moment, took a pin from my kit and fastened it to my tabard. I turned and saw I had everyone's attention, so I grinned, showing all my teeth.

"A Border custom.”

We assembled in the horse yard prior to departure, the sun just peeking over the garrison's walls.

Commander Ebner was there, his mustache stiff against his cheeks. All of our faces were on the haggard side, with the exceptions of Lieutenant Groskin, who was still purring, and Captain Suiden, who was his usual self. His brown eyes rested on my pinned feather for a moment, then moved on, scanning the rest of the troop.

Satisfied, the captain told Lieutenant Groskin to relay the order to move out. He waited until we were all in motion, saluted Commander Ebner, and joined us. The commander didn't say anything as we passed. I supposed it was for drama's sake that he stood there. I could hear future bards sing of our mission: The sun shone bright that fateful morn,