“There is that,” Cort admitted. “ Still, a barren woman is a poor wife for any man who wants heirs.”
“I’m not sure that Dirk does.” Gar remembered a few of his friend’s more bitter comments about the nature of human life. “It could very easily be that he wouldn’t care about that little problem.”
“Let him leave this world with none to come after him?” Cort exclaimed, scandalized. “No, my friend! If you care for your companion at all, you’ll try to keep him out of a marriage where he would be so woefully used!”
Gar turned to him with a frown. “Not too fond of women, are you?”
Cort turned away, face turning thunderous. “Let’s just say that I’ve finally come to realize how treacherous they are.”
“Very recently, too, by the intensity of your emotions.” Gar’s tone was sympathetic. “Either that, or you’ve been jilted more than once.”
“Only the one time,” Cort growled, glaring at the road ahead, “but that was enough. I’ll not give it the chance of happening again.”
“The hurt is very recent, then,” Gar said softly. Cort gave him a short nod.
“I know it’s too soon to be saying much about it, lieutenant,” Gar went on, “but I will remind you that one goose in a flock of swans doesn’t lessen the beauty of the rest.”
Cort frowned up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That one woman who’s too young to know her own heart is no proof that you won’t find other women who are mature enough to be true,” Gar said. “It would be a shame to deprive yourself of joy only because of the risk of pain.”
Cort’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “And yourself? I didn’t notice you making overtures to the beauty!”
“Touché.” Gar nodded, mouth a grim line. “I’ve taken hurts enough in my time, lieutenant, but they don’t drown the hope that some day I’ll meet a woman who will make me forget all the pain, make me think only of the joy of her presence.”
“A child’s tale,” Cort scoffed, “one that the old wives tell to beguile young boys into yearning to grow up to be husbands. After all, why should a healthy young man go to waste when he might be earning a living for a woman?”
Gar sighed, lifting his head. “I know it seems so to us now, lieutenant, when grief makes us bitter. We have to try to remember that a woman has a right to change her mind, though—a right, and a duty, too, to us as well as to herself, because no heartbreak can be so bad as being condemned to be bound for life to a person you don’t love, who will gradually come to despise you.”
Cort felt anger surge, the more because he recognized the truth in Gar’s words. He demanded, “Why haven’t you married, then, if you have so high an opinion of women?”
Gar shrugged, his face bleak. “I’m still waiting for the right one, of course, lieutenant: the one with whom I fall in love, and who falls in love with me—and I’ll wait for her half my life, or all of it, rather than marry the wrong one.”
Empathy stirred in Cort’s breast, and the anger faded. He studied his new sergeant’s profile, brooding on the senselessness of feelings. “What if she never comes, sergeant? What if you never find her?”
Gar shrugged. “Then I’ll take what joy I can from life, lieutenant: the solid satisfaction of seeing the few people I can help better off than when I met them; the delight of watching children play; the inspiration of a sunrise on a clear, chill day.”
“Is that all?”
Gar shrugged. “Measured against the lifetime of grief I’d receive from the wrong woman, and the constant pain of knowing I’d made her miserable? I’d count the small, quiet joys to be quite a lot, yes.”
“What of roistering?” Cort demanded. “Most men count their lives rich if they can swill and whore to their heart’s content.”
“I’ve already learned that physical pleasure doesn’t bring joy,” Gar told him, “or bring happiness that lasts any longer than the pleasure itself. I don’t intend to spend my life running from one sensation to another to try to forget my sorrow. I’ve seen people who did that. They became bored with their pleasures, and had to search more and more frantically, for ever more extreme sensations. As each pleasure lost its ability to distract them, they had to rush after the next, until some of them were actually amusing themselves with pain.” He shuddered. “None of that for me, thank you. The quiet pleasures last, and lead you steadily to greater and greater delights.”
“If you say so,” Cort said, rather doubtfully. “If I understand you rightly, you’re saying that the pleasures of women never pall, as long as you don’t touch their bodies.”
“Unless you’re in love with one, yes.” Gar nodded. “They’re wonderful, charming creatures, and just being near them can be a pleasure.”
“You’re too much the sage for me,” Cort sighed, and wondered why the big man laughed, and why his laughter was so sardonic.
At noon they had come down from the slopes into flat land, and came near the river that marked the boundary of Quilichen. Cort halted their little column. “The Hawks have probably had the good sense to withdraw,” he told his sergeants, “but they’re still between us and our headquarters, and if I were them, I’d be waiting in ambush not very far past the stream just far enough to lull our suspicions.”
Sergeant Otto nodded in approval of his pupil. “Very likely, lieutenant. Shall I scout out the territory?”
“No, let’s leave that to our newest recruits.” Cort turned to Gar and Dirk. “Sergeants, it’s your turn. Reconnoiter.”
“Huh?” Dirk came out of a brown study. “Oh. Yeah, sure, lieutenant. I mean, yes, sir!”
“We should be back in an hour or two,” Gar promised. He gestured at the meadow across the river. “After all, it’s so flat over there that there isn’t much place to hide.”
“They could be crafty,” Cort warned. “Think like a sneak.”
Gar grinned. “That should be easy enough. Come on, Dirk.”
The two rode away.
“Why them, lieutenant?” Otto asked, frowning. “Because they’re used to faring on their own,” Cort explained, “and they don’t have Blue Company livery yet. Besides, if they only joined us out of expediency, this gives them their chance to get away from our danger.”
The other reason, of course, was to give Gar a chance to talk with Dirk alone. Love was all well and good, but a man moping about like a sick cow wasn’t going to be any use to Cort when his unit was in such danger.
Gar wasted no time. Even as he and Dirk rode across the bridge, he said, “I thought love made a man feel better, Dirk, not sunk in gloom.”
“Huh?” Dirk looked up, startled, then frowned, thinking it over. “Yeah, I guess I am in love.”
“Worst case I’ve ever seen,” Gar assured him. “So why aren’t you happy?”
Dirk heaved a sigh. “Because I can’t see her, Gar, and probably won’t, ever again.”
“Stuff and nonsense! As soon as peace breaks out, you can ride back there for a visit. You aren’t put off by this nonsense about her being barren, are you?”
“Barren? No. I’ve got it too bad for that to worry me much.” Dirk smiled suddenly, a sardonic contraction. “Besides, there’s no chance I could marry her, anyway.”
“Why not?” Gar asked, frowning. “I admit I usually think of you as an ugly young cuss, but she obviously doesn’t. In fact, judging from the number of women who have flirted with you on four planets now, I’d have to say you were reasonably handsome.”
“Thanks for small praise,” Dirk said sourly. “But a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman like that? A born leader, a natural philanthropist, a…”
“Spare me the list.” Gar held up a hand. “It’s good to see you start looking lively again, but I have a feeling you could go on for an hour. I’ll grant she’s beautiful and wonderful. All the more reason why you should court her.”