In the silence that fell between us we could hear the dinner party leave for the vice admiral’s ship. “Are you sorry you’re going to be missing that?” Groskin asked.
“Not really,” I replied.
“What? The food was no good there too?”
“The opposite. But they served a roast and the vice admiral carved it right in front of me.” A shudder ran through me at me memory.
“Roast beef?” Groskin asked, his eyes fastened on mine. “What else?” I described the dinner and dessert, and his eyes glazed over.
“A roast beef dinner with all the trimmings and the captain takes a damned roots and berries eater, and a ghost,” Groskin said when I was finished, shaking his head.
It became quiet once more. The lieutenant packed the last of his gear and shut the lid. He then looked up at me and sighed. “If I say I’m sorry again, it wouldn’t help much, would it?”
I shrugged, finding the shadows cast by the lanterns fascinating.
Groskin sat down on his locker and a quick glance showed me that he too was very interested in the overlapping shapes of light and dark. “You know, I didn’t believe in the magical growing up—like everyone else I thought it was just stuff in children’s stories or tricksters doing sleight of hand, and even that was frowned upon by the Church elders. Then I got assigned to Veldecke.” He shifted, the locker creaking a bit. “It’s a plum posting and I mought I was on my way: a captaincy, get my majority, garrison commander, and then who knew? Lord Commander Groskin of the Royal Army, and shield bearer for the king.”
“What happened?” I asked, interested in spite of myself.
“Discovered that the magical was more than pantomimes that I wasn’t allowed to see as a lad.” Groskin raised his head and met my gaze. “Did anyone tell you why I was sent to Freston?”
“Only that something happened to you at Veldecke.”
Groskin lowered his head and shook it. “No, not to me, it didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “There was a rape—”
I made a sound between a gasp and a growl, every muscle stiffening.
Groskin, his head still down, held up his hand. “I didn’t.” His hand fell to his lap. “I did not, but I watched it happen and did nothing.”
“Why?”
“Because she wasn’t human.”
I felt the wind at my back, whispering words I couldn’t make out. Basel ghosted out of his corner, his haunt’s eyes wide on me as he shook his head. His lips moved and I could make out “Rabbit.” I grabbed hold of the ladder, feeling the wood under my hand, the rune tingling, then turning warm.
“Damn it, Rabbit!”
I looked up and met Groskin’s stare.
“You started to—I don’t know, blur.”
“It’s happened before.” My voice was hoarse. “Who was she?”
Groskin’s face changed and he looked aside. “Some fairy.” He sat silent for a moment. “A bunch of the lads and I had sneaked over the wall to the woods on the Border side. We’d liberated some wine from a supply shipment that had just arrived and we figured that was the best place to enjoy it in private. She happened upon us, wearing the filmy things they always do.” He ran his hand over his face, his mouth pulling down. “She was found the next morning in the forest. She had killed herself.” I dug my fingernails into the rung, feeling the wood splinter.
“The Weald Faena came for us. He was a fire salamander. I remember the flames as he spoke in the garrison commander’s office, white hot.”
“Yet here you are,” I said, my brows coming together. “Free.”
Groskin shrugged. “The commander pointed out that I hadn’t actually participated.”
I ignored the hairsplitting as my frown tightened. “And the others?”
Groskin shrugged again, this time looking up, his mouth hard. “They said they couldn’t remember who did what, each one claiming to have been too drunk to do much of anything and all of a sudden it was my word against theirs. One went so far as to say that maybe I had raped the creature—” Groskin stopped at my expression, then sighed, lowering his eyes. “That I had done it, as it seemed that I was the only one sober enough.”
“But the Faena,” I began, then stopped.
“Oh, the commander told the Faena that they would be punished,” Groskin continued, “but they were lords’ and officers’ sons. They got a slap on the wrist for taking the wine, and were sent to other posts, as there was no proof beyond a tipsy lieutenant.” He raised his eyes again to look at me. “Only I was sent to Freston—for drunkenness and failure to control my men.” The wind started whispering again, but I shook my head and it fell silent.
Groskin leaned back against the cabin wall and folded his arms, staring at the floor before him. “I’ve always told myself that she wasn’t like my sisters, but instead a soulless, poxy nymph who probably serviced more than a hundred whores combined. Besides, it was all political—the lord’s sons were let go while I was judged expendable. So I’ve said.”
“So you’ve said,” I repeated, frowning.
Groskin’s mouth twisted. “Then you and the cat come along and say that we have all been translated. That we’ve become as magical as those in the Border. That I was the same as the fairy.” He looked up and met my eyes. “If that’s so, then what did that make me?”
“Someone who stood by and did nothing while a person was gang raped by a bunch of drunken soldiers,” I said, focusing back on the lieutenant.
Groskin closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Then left her there in pain and distress so great that she killed herself.”
“Yes.”
I held up my hand, the rune glowing in the berth’s dimness. “No wonder this caused you to go berserk.”
Groskin’s eyes snapped open, a wary expression coining over his face.
“Tell me, did the fire Faena touch you with it?”
Groskin nodded, shuddering, his face still wary.
“But not the others?”
Groskin shook his head. “They—the commander and the Faena—said that as I was the senior officer—”
“What the bloody hell does that have to do with holding an inquiry?” I interrupted.
Groskin shook his head again. “It’s what they said.” His eyes stayed fixed on my palm.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you.” I dropped my hand and Groskin let out a relieved breath. I stared a moment over the lieutenant’s shoulder at the cabin wall, and then looked back at Groskin. “So the Faena showed you the truth, but you called it a lie and thrust it away from you.”
“Yes,” Groskin said.
“Then you do the same thing with me and Slevoic. Stand back and let him have at me to his heart’s pleasure. And because of that, the Vicious felt bold enough to murder Basel.”
“I know.” Groskin surprised me by agreeing. “When I saw Basel dead, it was like a fog had lifted and I could see clearly what I had done—”
“I bet you could, all sixteen points of it lying there with his throat slit.”
“—and I thought that was it. My days in the Royal Army were over.”
“Your ‘days in the Royal Army’? Slevoic killed Basel and you worried about your army career?”
Groskin nodded again, glancing at me and Basel, then away. “The Faena cat came to see me after Basel’s funeral.”
I paused at the conversation shift. “So?” I asked, my voice cautious.
He studied his fingernails. “You wear that blasted braid and your prissy clothes and don’t eat meat, and bedamn to anyone who doesn’t like it. But I do care what others think.” I discovered my mouth was open, and closed it with a snap.
“Well, not so much think, as what they see.”
“Appearances,” I managed.
“Yeah, something like that.” Groskin’s mouth turned wry. “I was connected to the Doyen of Dornel, and through him to all kinds of big hats, including Obruesk. God forbid that anything I do reflect badly upon the Church.”