“Sir?” Leudast said blankly; this was the first he’d heard about a field kitchen. It was news to him that the Unkerlanter army boasted such things. In the field, even the Algarvians mostly cooked catch as catch can.
But Captain Recared nodded. “I’ve sent complaints west by crystallomancer, but you know what that’s worth. They might as well be written on the air. I really need someone to look into it. Why don’t you commandeer a horse or a mule or a unicorn and go raise a stink?”
“Me, sir?” Leudast squeaked. “I’m just a-”
“You’re a lieutenant,” Recared said. “And you’re not justa lieutenant. MarshalRathar personally promoted you, and everybody knows why. You’ll have my written authorization, too. I’ll make sure you take it with you.” He smiled a small, thoughtful smile. “The cursed thing is supposed to be somewhere not too far from a wide spot in the road called Leiferde. I expect you’ll be able to track it down in those parts, eh?”
Leudast stared at him. Recared looked back. No, he wasn’t so young and innocent as he had been. “Thank you, sir,” Leudast said.
“For what?” Recared answered. “You came back with that field kitchen and I’ll thank you. With it or without it, be back here in three days.”
“Aye, sir.” Leudast saluted. Leiferde was about a day away. That would leave him a day-or whatever was left of a day after he chased after a field kitchen{was there one somewhere near Alize’s village?)-to do what he pleased. And he knew exactly what he pleased. “Let me round up a mount…” He wasn’t much of a rider, but he would manage. After all, he had an incentive.
“You do that.” Recared sounded professionally brisk. “While you’re doing it, I’ll prepare your orders.”
Leudast took charge of a horse that had been pulling a wagon now down with a broken axle. Getting riding gear took rather longer than scaring up the animal. He felt very high off the ground when he rode back to Recared.
“Here you are,” Recared said. “Now you’re official. Go find that field kitchen-and whatever else you happen to find around Leiferde.” That was as close as he came to admitting he knew Leudast might have anything else in mind.
Saluting again, Leudast rode off. He wanted to boot the horse up to a gallop, to get to Alize’s village as fast as he could. Only the accurate suspicion that he would fall off on his head long before he got to Leiferde kept him at a more sedate pace.
Unkerlanter artisans had thrown a couple of quick bridges of precut lengths of timber across the Fluss. Military constables stood at the eastern end of the one Leudast approached. They inspected the order Recared had given him, then nodded and stood aside. “Pass on, Lieutenant,” one of them said, and grudged him a salute. “Youare authorized.” He sounded as if he’d turned back plenty who weren’t. He probably had.
More artisans were bringing up the timbers for another bridge. Leudast waved to them as he headed west past their wagons. He neared Leiferde early the next morning, after sleeping rolled in his cloak by the side of the road. Before going into the village, he went to the supply dump in search of the possibly mythical field kitchen.
To his amazement, he found a sergeant who knew what he was talking about. “Aye, Lieutenant, your regimental commander’s been bending everybody’s ear about the cursed thing,” the fellow said. “We’re bloody short of draft animals, is the trouble. You can haul it away with your horse there right now, if you want to.”
“I’ve got some other business on this side of the Fluss I need to take care of first,” Leudast said. “I’ll be back for it tomorrow morning.”
“Suits me,” the supply sergeant said. “It’ll be ready and waiting.”
It suited Leudast, too. He mounted the horse and rode into Leiferde. Most of the peasants ignored him: what was one more soldier, after so many?
He found Alize weeding the vegetable plot by her father’s house. She let out a squeal of delight and sprang to her feet. “What are youdoing here?” she asked.
He grinned. “I was in the neighborhood, so I just thought I’d drop by.”
Nine
Some people had always turned their backs on Talsu when he walked through the streets of Skrunda. They were the folk who thought no one could come back from a dungeon without giving himself to the Algarvians. Now that he’d come out of the constabulary building without visible damage, more people turned their backs on him. They thought no one could do that without telling the redheads what they wanted to hear.
Most of the time, Talsu was able to ignore such snubs. But when they came from young men who had been his friends before he was seized, they tore at him, no matter how much he tried not to show it. He sometimes wanted to scream at them. Mezentio’s men grabbed me because I was trying to fight back! echoed through his mind. What have you done since the Algarvians occupied Jelgava? Not a cursed thing, that’s what.
Holding in his fury led to a bad temper and a sour stomach. “It’ll all get sorted out whenKingDonalitu comes back,” Gailisa said one evening, trying to soothe him after he’d snarled at everyone in his family.
“Will it?” Talsu asked bitterly.
“Of course it will,” she answered in the quiet of the cramped little bedchamber they shared. “That’s why he’ll come back-to sort things out, I mean.”
She had a touching faith in the king. Once upon a time, Talsu might have had a similar faith in Donalitu. He tried to remember when he’d lost it. Before he went into the army: he was sure of that. “If he does come back, he’ll probably throw me in the dungeon for being too friendly with the redheads.”
That exercise in cynicism got him an appalled look from his wife. “He wouldn’t do such a thing!” she exclaimed. “He’d never do such a thing! The only reason you ever got in trouble was because you wanted to do something to the Algarvians.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re right about that.” Talsu didn’t think she was, but he didn’t feel like arguing with her, either. He had other things on his mind. The other things ended up making him happy and then sleepy. The bed wasn’t really big enough for the two of them, but they were young enough not to mind sometimes waking up all tangled together.
They were tangled together when they woke up that night. It was still dark: that was the first thing Talsu noticed. It was, in fact, pitch black. For a moment, Talsu couldn’t imagine why he’d awakened. Then he heard the bells clanging out an alarm.
“Fire somewhere?” Gailisa asked.
Talsu listened, then shook his head. “I don’t think so-they’re ringing all over town. That means dragonfliers overhead.”
“Aye, you’re probably right.” Gailisa untangled her legs from his and got out of bed. “We’d better go downstairs.”
They’d huddled behind the counter in the tailor’s shop during other visits from Kuusaman and Lagoan dragons. As Talsu got up, too, he said, “I wish we had a cellar here, the way your father does.”
“Do you want to try to get over there?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Getting caught in the open when eggs start falling is the last thing you want to do. I saw what happens then in the army-and the first time the dragons came over Skrunda, during the promenade in the square.” He swatted Gailisa lightly on the backside. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”
“I was,” she said. Talsu chuckled. He hadn’t had to swat her. He’d just liked doing it.
He would have pounded on his mother and father’s door, and on his sister’s, to get them moving, but they all met in the hallway-Traku had been coming down the hall to make sure he and Gailisa were awake. After some confusion, they hurried downstairs. They huddled between the counter and the wall just as the first eggs started bursting all over Skrunda.