“I put aside some tubers for you, Lieutenant.”
I sighed. “Basel, you’ve known me for four years. You don’t have to call me lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. Here you go.” He gave me a plate filled with steaming hot vegetables.
I sighed again and, finding a spot upwind of the fire, sat down. To my surprise, Jeff joined me and watched me demolish the food on my plate. “Is it a Border custom that you don’t eat meat?”
“No, some are meat eaters.” I thought of the wolves, dragons, and others with sharp teeth. Laurel Faena had not looked like he subsisted solely on nuts and berries either. Or honeycakes. “And I eat fish. It’s just that the Border turns any notion of what’s ‘food’ on its head.” I forked up more food. “There was this farmer in the Weald next to ours who used to raise pigs, until one day he met a forest boar who spent the morning discussing with him the meaning of life and the purpose of the universe. He said afterwards that it sort of put him off pork chops.”
“You didn’t have any farm animals then?” Jeff asked.
“For food? Just dairy cows and laying chickens. But we also had horses, sheep, a couple of goats, dogs, and cats. Not to mention the snakes, owls and hawks that lived in our outbuildings.” Jeff stared and I explained. “They were there for the vermin. As man goes, so go rats and mice.”
“So it was a real farm,” Jeff said.
“It is a real farm. My family isn’t playing gentlefarmers,” I said. “They live off what they produce and sell the rest.”
“It’s just that—I mean, sheesh, Rabbit. You’re a fop,” Jeff said.
“Too right,” someone murmured.
“It’s a farm.” I saw no one understood and tried again. “There weren’t any tailors or fancy cloths. We made our clothes from the wool we got from our sheep, and as I have three older brothers, most of mine were hand-me-downs. By the time I got them, they were brown, lumpy and scratchy—and you don’t want to know what my ma’s homemade soap did to them.” My skin started to itch in memory. “Hell, lads, is wearing handwoven smalls,” I said over the laughter, “and I’ve earned every fine shirt I have.” After we finished dinner and the guard rota was set up, I crawled into my tent to sleep. I settled down in my bedding as the flap opened and Jeff came in. He was quiet as he got into his bedroll, and I started to drift off.
“You could have said something,” Jeff said.
I blinked sleepily. “Huh?”
“You keep too many damn secrets, Rabbit.”
“Said what?”
“About your parents. The magical. The feather.”
I was waking up fast. “We all have secrets—” I began.
“Not like these. My secrets aren’t anything like yours.”
That was probably very true.
“Ibn Chause e Flavan,” Jeff said.
“I’m still me,” I said. “I haven’t changed.”
“Yeah, but who are you?”
Chapter Five
When I awoke the next morning, Jeff was gone and his bedroll was neatly rolled up in the corner with his saddlebags. I took extra care over my prayers, figuring that I needed all the help I could get. I then grabbed my razor, soap and a towel, lifted the tent flap and went out into the sunshine. I came to an abrupt halt, though, as I ran into Captain Suiden. He and Lieutenant Groskin were in front of my tent, both facing Laurel Faena, Suiden with his arms folded, Groskin with his hand on his sword hilt. Behind the Faena stood the troopers, a few making warding signs against evil, but most with their hands also on their swords.
Laurel looked as he had when I’d met him yesterday. He had the same embroidered coat, the same staff, the same feathers and beads woven into his tawny head fur and ears. Both ears now were pressed forward as his eyes met mine. He gave a small bow, as if we were chance-met acquaintances on market day. “Lord Rabbit.”
A mutter went through the men at the honorific, and hard looks started coming my way too.
“Assure your men, honored captain,” Laurel said, his voice a deep rumble, “that I mean no harm.”
“It’s kind of hard to believe that when you’re found slipping and sneaking into camp,” Groskin said, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. A snarl of agreement went through the troop, and Ryson, standing a little apart from the rest, muttered something I couldn’t hear. Several nodded and began to pull their swords from their scabbards.
Suiden cast a glance at the men and everyone quieted, those withdrawing their swords freezing midpull. “What do you mean?” the captain asked, looking back at the cat.
“Peace,” the Faena said, his whiskers sweeping back in what I’m sure he meant to be a harmless smile. His sharp eyeteeth glistened white in the sunshine.
I could hear the breeze softly whisper over the lea’s grass in the sudden silence. Then Laurel laughed, a deep chuffing sound, at Suiden’s politely incredulous look. “I speak truth, honored captain. But perhaps we can discuss it in private?” He gestured at my rather goosepimply bare chest. “After Lord Rabbit gets dressed.” What the hell? I cast a wild look at the Faena at his intimation that I was to join their counsels, only to catch sight of Suiden’s face. The captain’s gaze rested on me for an eternity. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant,” he said finally.
“Yes, sir!” I said and was by the cookfire before my next heartbeat. Behind me, I could hear Groskin growling at the men to put their bloody swords away and didn’t they have duties and if not he could find some for them if they insisted on lollygagging about. There was the sound of hurried feet as the troopers cleared, fast.
I waited a moment for my breathing to even out and then asked the duty cook for hot water.
“Of course, Lieutenant,” Basel said, saluting.
“Damn it, Basel, stop that,” I said, scowling at him.
“Yes, sir,” Basel said. He reached down and produced a bowl. “I found strawberries growing over there”—Basel indicated a sunny spot against a large boulder—”and I saved some for your porridge, knowing how particular you are in your food, Lieutenant.” Nothing like being toadied before breakfast. Before I could respond, a sour smell washed over me. I checked my feet to see if I had stepped in anything.
“It’s Lord Rabbit, Basel,” Ryson said, several troopers trailing behind him. Far behind. The smell was coming from him, his wet clothes had mildewed.
“You’re rancid, Ryson,” I said.
“You’ve no idea,” Ryson’s tentmate muttered.
“Why didn’t you put your clothes out last night to dry by the fire?” I asked.
“Of course, Lord Rabbit.” He batted his eyelashes. “Forgive us, Lord Rabbit. We don’t know clothes like you do, Lord Rabbit.”
“That’s enough, you sheep-biting, fornicating weasel—” Jeff grabbed my arm and pulled me away. No one wanted to touch Ryson, but a couple of the men got in front of him. Their eyes watered as the wind shifted. “Have your wits gone lacking?” Jeff asked, his voice soft. “You want the captain or Groskin to hear you?” Ryson and I stopped trying to get at each other and everyone did a quick search. The tension drained as we located Suiden and Groskin still standing with Laurel Faena.
I shrugged away from Jeff and went back to the fire. The water was gently bubbling. I took a washpot and poured some in it.
“If a Faena wants to call you high emperor of the universe, reign without end, you say fiat,” I said, quickly lathering my face. “They see things that no one else does. A different reality.”
“So this is your reality, Lord Rabbit?” Jeff said.
“I don’t know. Don’t call me that.”
“Ibn Chause e Flavan. How many degrees are they?”
“Thirty-two and forty,” Ryson put in. He smirked at my stare. “It’s amazing how Commander Ebner’s voice carries. Even in his office.”