"I'm also supposed to help you with the bookkeeping," Elliot said. "For the travellin' medicine shows." He frowned heavily. "Do those things do any good, Professor?"
"Sure. Look, we send out a merc and a couple of local warriors and some junior priests of Yatar. They go out and make maps and get a resource survey. That's worth it all alone-Sarge, the maps here are really something else! Most of 'em have their own country bigger'n the Roman Empire, for chrissake!
"But there's more to it. They go to the towns and teach hygiene. Germ theory of disease. Antiseptic practices."
"Does it work?"
"Yeah, sometimes," Warner said. "And sometimes not, I guess. Sometimes we get the old 'what was good enough for Granny' routine-"
"So you convert Granny," Elliot said.
"Right-o. Or we try to." He drank another glass of wine. "Sarge, I had a thought. The Captain likes you around him. Is he going to base his Roman expedition out of here?"
"He may have to."
"Crap."
"You don't like that?"
"Don't like this place mixed up with war," Warner said. "Yeah, I know how that sounds, coming from me, but it's true."
"Funny, I agree with you," Elliot said. "More to the point, I think the Captain does too. But what else has he got? Anyplace else is controlled by the local lords-Larry, why do the lords hate Captain Galloway so much?"
"I would too," Warner said. "Lord Rick comes in and makes his pikemen and archers more effective than the knights, pretty soon the troops are going to wonder what it is the heavy cavalrymen do that makes them so important. It's a good question, too."
"How bad is it?"
"Bad enough that Captain Galloway had better wear armor any time he's got Tamaerthan lords around," Warner said. "Bad enough that you and I ought to keep lookin' over our shoulders, too."
"Yeah. All right, I'll do just that. Hey, have you got a drink? It's hot work, riding up these hill paths."
"Sure." Warner clapped his hands and a girl about eighteen years old came in. "Sara. Cold beer, please. Thank you-"
"She's a looker."
"Want to borrow her?"
"Hooker?"
"Naw, slave," Warner said. "Yeah, I know, the Captain doesn't approve of slavery. I liberated her, Sarge, but she won't leave. Where would she go? One day a freedman will marry her, I expect, but meanwhile she works here and she likes working for star-men-"
"Well, Larry, I don't have anybody to clean up for me-"
"I'll send her over to help until you get something permanent set up. One thing, be polite to her. I always am-ah. Thank you, Sara."
She set down two large tankards and curtsied. They drank. "Good beer," Elliot said. "Soft duty up here."
"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen me today," Warner said. "Working on fuels for the balloon. Hot air's all right, but I think I can figure a way to make hydrogen for the next one. If I can make a good sizing for the cloth to seal it so it'll hold hydrogen."
"Hydrogen. What's the matter, Professor, afraid you'll run out of hot air after the first one?"
"Ho-ho. Anyway, now that the cloth's here I can really get to work. Have any trouble?"
"I don't ever have trouble, Professor."
"Yeah." Actually, Warner thought, that must have been a hell of an expedition. Mercs, locals, Tamaerthan archers, pack animals for the trade goods, more pack animals for the fodder-taking a zoo like that over muddy roads and through the hills couldn't have been much of a picnic.
"Usual market for this stuff is Rome," Elliot said. "So we got it at a good price."
"Where? Rustengo?"
"Found a whole warehouse full about a hundred klicks north of there. With the roads to Rome closed off they were grateful for the chance to sell."
"Hmm. And the Romans really like the stuff-"
"That's what I hear."
"Maybe a good bargaining point for Miss Gwen. I think we'll send a messenger tomorrow to tell her."
"All right by me. I got a few other items of interest."
"Good. Seriously, did you run into any trouble?"
Elliot grinned. "Nothing I can't handle, Professor. Some bandits in the hills outside Viys. About two hundred."
"That's damned near an army, around here."
"We. unlimbered the H amp;K's," Elliot said. "No sweat." He seemed pleased at the memory. "Didn't have to use too many rounds, either. After that, nobody wanted to give us any gas. Word spread pretty fast."
"Yeah. No sign of Gengrich?"
"No. He could have been trouble."
Larry Warner nodded. "I hear he's set up as a pirate king. One of these days we may have to deal with him. More beer?"
"Sure. And don't forget to tell that girl 1 want to borrow her. You're right about Gengrich, they're scared of him down there. But they're scared of everything. The whole south's talking about the Roman situation. Half of 'em want the Romans to keep on fighting each other. Long as that war goes, the Roman frontier posts aren't manned, and the southerners have a place to send the refugees that keep streaming in.
"Then there's the others, who mutter about the lost trade, and how things are going to hell. And all the priests of Yatar are out soapboxin' about The Time, and how they better store up food against the years of famine-"
"They're right there," Warner said. "One reason for this University. We're as much an agricultural research station as anything else. And there's our travelling road shows-"
"Right. Captain said I was to help you get those organized." Elliot stretched elaborately. "Larry, things look pretty good, considerin' where the Cubans had us."
"Sure," Warner said.
"Relax. Captain Galloway knows what he's doing."
"I hope so," Warner said. "Damn, I hope so."
Rick put down the report from Sergeant Elliot and nodded in satisfaction. Tylara came and took it from the table. She puzzled over each word.
"I'll read it to you if you like," Rick said.
"I'll ask you to do so. Later," she said. She went on reading.
"Your English is getting very good," Rick said. "I'm proud of you."
"Thank you." She went on poring over the parchment, her finger resting at each word. Finally she looked up. "You have promised mediation in the Roman Wars," she said. "You had Elliot make that promise in our names."
"Yes."
"You did not consult me about this, yet the promise is as Eqeta of Chelm-"
"Dammit, I don't have to consult you! I am the Eqeta of Chelm!"
"So much for your fine promises," she said. "We rule as equals. But you are perhaps more equal than I."
"I am also Captain-General of Drantos, War Chief of Tamaerthon, and Colonel of Mercenaries," Rick said. "Posts I had before I married you. Do you tell me everything you do?"
"The important things. Must we quarrel?"
"That's what I was going to ask."
"Then let us not. I was going to say that I approve of your strategem in the south. It brought us the cloth at a lower price, and there is no way for them to know if you keep the promise. Soon no one on Tran will be teaching you anything about bargaining."
In spite of Tylara's heart-stopping smile, Rick wasn't entirely sure those words were a compliment. He frowned. "I intend to keep the promise and try to negotiate a peace, if we can't give Marselius a victory."