Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Arkadi reached the center of the bridge in time to see a pair of familiar legs disappear over the side of the bridge.

“Piotr!” He flung himself forward, lunged, grabbed, but he was too late. His hands closed on empty air. He scrambled up to the edge and looked down, but there was nothing to see but blackness. “Piotr!” he shouted again. But the only answer was the roar of the rushing water below. Wait! What was…?

“Help!”

A faint cry reached his ears, but it wasn’t Piotr. It was a woman’s voice, Lady Sheela. It came again, but more faintly. The fast moving waters were carrying her away. Did she have the boy? He started stripping off his gear so he could go in after them but then a hand gripped his arm. It was Goldcamp.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” demanded his fellow armsman.

“The boy is in the water! Let me go!”

Goldcamp stared over the bridge and shook his head. “All you’ll accomplish is cracking your skull open again! You’ll never find him in this dark.”

“But I’ve got to…!”

“You’ve got to see to your command!” snapped Goldcamp. “The shuttle is landing and we’ve got the one alien and half the men are hurt! You can’t go off and leave them!”

“But…”

A ragged volley of shots interrupted him and several bullets chewed splinters out of the bridge nearby. Goldcamp tugged him away from the edge. “Come on! Or we’ll both be killed!”

Arkadi looked back at the water, but he knew Goldcamp was right: Flinging himself after the boy wouldn’t do any good. Piotr could be half a mile away by now. He needed to get downstream! He lurched to his feet and they both fled back to the men, crouching low. A hundred yards away, around a bend in the road, the shuttle was landing.

“Get aboard!” he shouted. “Fall back! Take the fallen! I’ll cover you!” He scooped up two of the rifles lying on the ground and quickly emptied them toward the far side of the bridge. He heard a faint cry and the enemy’s fire slackened a bit. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Goldcamp was carrying one of the wounded men away. Everyone else was gone. He drew his revolver and fired off all six rounds and then turned and ran.

He caught up as Goldcamp was loading his burden into the shuttle. “Dars and Jonathan are dead,” he said, “but I guess we’ve got room for them now. Especially seein’ as how you’re not coming, right?” His friend stared at him.

“No I’m not. Is Captain Hodgkins aboard?”

“Yeah, his horse is over there. You’ll probably need that.”

“Thanks, Andre. Get them back to the palace, will you?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right! Leave me to face the wrath of the Emperor and the Count! Think I’d rather stay.”

“You’re hurt, yourself, man,” he said pointing to Goldcamp’s blood-soaked sleeve. “Get yourself fixed up.”

“All right then. But you take care of yourself, too.”

“I will. Now get out of here. Those bastards will be coming soon.”

“Right.” Goldcamp pulled himself up into the shuttle and Arkadi went for the horse. The beast was skittish around the strange alien machine and he almost lost control of it when the shuttle took to the air. Hopefully the noise would keep back Vorstakof’s men for a while, too.

As the shuttle dwindled in the night, Arkadi guided the horse off the road and tried to find a path through the trees that led back to the river. He touched his microphone. “Ian, everything all right there?”

“Looks good, Arkadi. We’ll be back at the palace in thirty minutes.”

“Do you have a location on Lady Sheela?”

“Uh… south of your position, maybe a kilometer or so. Huh, it’s not moving now, so maybe you can catch up with her.”

“Good. Once you’ve unloaded your passengers, do you think you could come back? If I find them, we’ll probably need a fast ride out of here.”

“It might not be so easy leaving the palace a second time.”

“Yeah, but if I’ve actually got the boy they might be easier to convince.”

“Maybe. But Arkadi?  I’m starting to run low on fuel. I’m going to have to make a side trip back to the ship to fill up. What? Hold on.” Cummings broke off for a moment. “Arkadi? Tam is insisting I take him back to the ship right now. Mr. Goldcamp is objecting. But I really do need to refuel. If I go back to the palace I’ll have just enough to get back to the ship on the next flight, but nowhere else.”

Arkadi pondered for a moment. Did he trust Cummings to come back? Yes I do. The man had honor. “Go get your fuel, Ian. Let me talk to Goldcamp.” It took a minute to convince his friend, but he finally did.

“I’ll have your wounded back to the palace in about three hours,” said Cummings. “And we’ve got some pretty good first aid equipment on the ship, so don’t worry.”

“Okay, Ian. Thanks.”

“Good luck! I’ll be listening for your call. Now go find them.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

Arkadi headed south. Dawn was still four hours away.

* * *

Sheela pulled Piotr out of the water. She was gasping for breath and shivering almost uncontrollably. She couldn’t ever remember being so cold! The boy was limp but breathing. She dragged him higher up the muddy bank and looked him over. There was an ugly bruise and a small cut over his left eye. He must have hit his head when they fell into the river. She had some bumps and bruises from the rocks, too, but she was amazed they both hadn’t been killed.

But what was happening? She remembered falling off her horse, falling off the bridge—in spite of Piotr’s insanely brave attempt to save her—and then tumbling helplessly through the rapids. She’d held onto the boy and then managed to get her head above water. She’d never done much swimming, but somehow she’d stayed up long enough to grab a large floating branch. She’d shouted for help, but the current was incredibly strong and they’d been swept away.

She had no idea how far they’d floated, kilometers, surely. Finally, the river had become broader and the current weak enough that she could paddle into shallower water and then drag herself and the boy ashore. But where were they? Had the others gotten away? Tam and Arkadi? Well, she could find out…

“Shit…” Her communicator was gone. She ran her hand up and down the edge of her vest and the tiny microphone wasn’t there. Patting her pockets, both of the computer pads were gone, too. Even the earbud was gone. All washed away in those first frantic moments in the tumbling water, no doubt. The stunner had flown out of her hand when she first fell off the horse.

“Shit.” The situation called for stronger expletives, but she just didn’t have the energy. She was still shivering and she could see that Piotr was, too. They were both dripping wet and the air temperature couldn’t be that far above freezing. They had to find some shelter.

Groaning, she sat up and tried to rouse Piotr, but the boy remained asleep. Unconscious. Did he have a head injury? There was nothing she wanted more than to just close her eyes and lie down next to the boy. But if she did that they might never wake up. They could freeze to death out here. She stood up and stamped her feet, even though she could barely feel them. Then she stooped and picked up the boy and staggered upright. He was lighter then she’d feared, but she doubted she could carry him very far.

But she had to try.

Step by step she moved away from the river. Did any people live in this wilderness? There must be some somewhere. She stumbled through the darkness, falling frequently, but the effort did warm her up. Her shivering stopped, but pains that had been numbed by the cold started appearing. Her left knee, in particular hurt like hell. Must have hit it on a rock…

When she fell for about the tenth time, Piotr suddenly cried out and then started coughing. The eastern sky was brightening and Sheela stopped and looked at the boy. His eyes fluttered open and wandered around in confusion.

“Piotr! Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

“Where…? What happened?” he croaked. His eyes focused on her.

“We fell off the bridge and got washed downstream. Are you hurt?”

“My… head hurts. But where is Arkadi?”

“I would guess that he’s looking for us. But I lost my communicator. I can’t contact anyone and they can’t track us anymore. It might take a while for him to find us.”

“Yes, he’ll find us.” The boy sounded very certain. “There will probably be other people looking for us, too… but no, if Vorstakof is dead…”

“Why do you think Vorstakof is dead?” asked Sheela puzzled. How hard had the boy hit his head?

“But… but… you were with him, weren’t you? Your stunner… that’s how you…” The boy suddenly struggled upright. “Don’t tell me you didn’t kill him either! Just like you left Vorfallon?”

“I just stunned him. I mean I couldn’t…”

“What is the matter with you people!” cried Piotr. “If Vorstakof was killed this whole rebellion would collapse! Oh bloody hell!” He shook his head and then winced. His hand came up to touch the bruise. “Ow…”

“You’ve got a nasty bump there. Here, let me see if I can make a bandage.” Sheela ripped a long strip off her sodden petticoat and gently tied it around Vorkosigan’s head. He was staring at her the whole time.

“Thank you for saving me, Lady Sheela,” he said. “I couldn’t believe it when you came through the door. That was very brave of you. Please forgive my harsh words just now.”

Sheela looked at him in wonder. “Are you sure you’re just ten years old, Piotr? You don’t talk like any ten-year old I’ve ever met.”

“I shall be a count someday. I must be ready for that duty. My father is having me trained for that day.”

And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re just a child, I’d say he was doing a really good job.

“We need to find a shelter,” she said aloud. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” She helped him to his feet and he could stand. He looked around. “How did we get way up here?”

“I carried you up from the river.” He looked impressed. “Komarran women are expected to be able to work like anyone else.”

“Indeed, milady?” he grinned at her and she smiled back. “Let’s go downhill. It’s easier and it will take us farther from Vorstakof.”

They started off, keeping well above the river, but staying in the valley it had cut through the hills. The sun came up and the temperature rose and it wasn’t nearly so bad as before. The effort of moving warmed them up. But they were exhausted and hungry and they needed a place to rest.

At one point the trees opened out into a meadow and she looked back the way they had come. “Oh,” she exclaimed, pointing. “That must be the Overlook way up there.” Far, far up the side of the mountain there was a gleam of reflected light. Probably off the windows of the big house. “We’ve come further than I thought.”

“But not far enough,” replied Vorkosigan. “Let’s keep moving, milady.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is the spot?” demanded Arkadi. “There isn’t anyone here!”

“I’ve got you plotted right on the same position as Sheela’s compad,” came Ian’s reply. “Within a dozen meters.”

“Damnation,” muttered Arkadi. It had taken him hours to work his way around back to the river and then follow it downstream to this spot. But there was nothing in sight. Just trees and the river. He began to spiral out in a search pattern, but he found nothing on the shore. He was steeling himself to look for a pair of sodden bodies when something gleamed from a pool at the water’s edge. The sun was just peeking over the far ridge. He trotted over and was both relieved and alarmed when he pulled one of the alien’s computer pads out of the water.

“Ian.”

“What?”

“I found Sheela’s computer, but there’s no one here.”

“She must have dropped it when she fell in the river. Damn! That means we can’t track her!”

“Not your way, anyhow,” replied the armsman. “I’ll have to do it my way. What’s your situation up there?”

“Just finished fueling. Tam’s throwing a fit, but I’ll start my de-orbit burn shortly. Uh… is your emperor likely to have me shot or something for all this?”

“No, he’ll save that for me when I get back. You’ll be fine. Talk to you later.”

Arkadi sighed and got back on the horse and pointed it downstream. He kept a sharp lookout for hostiles, but so far he’d seen and heard no one, not since the first hour when a swarm of Vorstakof’s men had come down from his lodge and swept the area around the bridge. It was entirely possible that they didn’t know about Sheela and the boy falling into the river. If they thought they’d all escaped on the shuttle they wouldn’t even be looking for them. That was a comforting thought. And if Vorstakof thought that he’d lost all of his bargaining chips, what would he do then? Flee? Try to negotiate a surrender? Fight to the last?

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. His only task was to find Piotr—and Sheela—and get them to safety.

He got on with it.

* * *

“There must be someone close,” said Piotr suddenly. Sheela stopped and looked around in alarm, but saw nothing but trees.

“How do you know?’ she asked.

“The smoke. Can’t you smell it?”

“What…? Oh, right.” Fire. People burned things to keep warm. What a novel concept. They’d been walking all morning. It must be nearly noon and she was very tired and very hungry. “Do we dare approach anyone?”

“There’s no way any news about us could have reached this far yet. We could see what it is. But…”

“But what?”

“Well, sometimes there are bandits in the hills. And you’re a woman. And we’re both unarmed.”

“What? Do you mean they might want to… uh, rape me?”

“Yes.” The boy blushed.

“Well, if they feed us, it might be a good bargain. I’m starving.”

“My lady!” The boy looked shocked.

“Just joking, Piotr. Well, not about the starving part, I’m afraid.”

“All right. Let’s see what it is. But we can’t let them know who we are. Except they’ll know we’re Vor just from our clothes.”

“Okay, I’m Lady Vor… uh, Vorlahn and you’re my nephew… Stanley.”

“Stanley?”

“Not a good name? What do you suggest?”

“Piotr’s a common name. That’ll do.”

“Okay, if you say so. Let’s go.” They started moving again and Sheela winced. Her knee was getting worse and it had stiffened up while they were talking. She must have really hurt it badly. She had noticed that Piotr was favoring his left arm. “Did you hurt your arm?” she asked.

“I didn’t, no. But it is hurt. The shoulder.”

“You mean that Vorfallon did it?” she asked in shocked outrage.

“Tryin’ to get me to talk, yeah. Didn’t tell him nothing, though.”

“Why, that monster!”

“That is his reputation. Vorstakof’s dog.”

“I should have cut his throat!”

“Yes, milady,” sighed the boy. “You should have.”

They pushed through the woods and the smell of smoke got stronger. Then they came to a clearing and saw some fences and planted fields and across the clearing was a small house with smoke drifting out of a stone chimney. Sheela didn’t want to try climbing the fence with her skirts and her knee, so they took the long way around. As they got closer to the house a dog started barking. Several of them, actually. “Oh dear,” she said, slowing down.

“It’s all right,” said Piotr. “They’re just to give the folks warning. They won’t attack unless we threaten the owners. Don’t you have dogs on Komarr?”

“A few do. But with the domes we live in pets can be awkward.” She’d seen dogs back home, but she’d never been fond of them. These sounded large—and dangerous. But the boy led the way and she had no choice but to follow. Soon she saw several large animals barking and growling. She had no intention of walking up to one of those!

But a moment later a man emerged from the house carrying a long thin gun of some sort. He was tall and brawny and full-bearded. A woman looked out the door from behind him. “Who’s that?” shouted the man.

“We’re friends,” said Sheela. “We mean no harm and we could use some help.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Sheela Vorlahn and this is my nephew, Piotr. We were out riding and… and our horses went into the river. We’re cold and wet and we could use some food. Will you help us?”

“You’re alone?” asked the man suspiciously.

“Yes. I imagine the rest of our party is looking for us, but the river carried us a long, long way before we could get out. Please, we’re both hurt.”

“I can give you five marks if you’ll help us,’ said Piotr, holding up a coin.

The man seemed to relax and he motioned to the woman. “Give them a hand. Max! Rogue! Heel!” Apparently the second half of his command was for the dogs. They settled down but still looked wary. The woman came forward and Sheela saw that she was quite young, probably younger than herself. She shyly took them into the house. The man relieved Piotr of his coin as they passed, but did not follow them in.

The house was built of logs, just as the Count’s Overlook had been, but it was far less lavish. Downright crude, actually. The floor was just packed dirt. But it was indoors and reasonably warm and there were a couple of wooden chairs and Sheela gratefully sank into one. The woman appeared with a mug of tea for each of them and Sheela wrapped her chilled fingers around it and drank. There was no sugar but she didn’t care. Oh, that was good! She could feel the heat seeping out along her limbs. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

“You and the lad need to be gettin’ out o’ those wet clothes, milady,” said the woman. “I might be able to find a shirt and trousers for him, but I have nothin’ fittin’ for a fine lady like yourself.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anything. Anything at all. What’s your name?”

“Merilee, milady.”

“Then whatever you have, Merilee. And thank you.” The woman blushed and made a curtsey and then scampered up a set of steps to a loft area that overlooked the main floor. Sheela could hear her rummaging around and after a moment she returned with clothes for Piotr.

“I’ve laid out a few things for you on the bed, milady. You can go up and change, if you like. I’ll have the food ready for you soon.”

Sheela tried to stand, but her knee was now so painful she could barely walk. Marilee helped her up the steps, but burning smells from below forced her to rush back to her cooking. Sheela sat on the bed and slowly and painfully stripped off her clothing. She discovered that she had an amazing collection of bruises, cuts and scrapes. She winced when she looked at her knee. It was twice its normal size and an ugly dark purple. Had she broken the damn thing?

Getting dressed again might have been impossible except that the clothes Marilee had to offer were vastly simpler than what she’d been wearing. Just a plain shift that only came down to her shins. Underwear was limited to a sort of loincloth that she wrapped around her awkwardly. Well, no one would mistake her for a Vor now! There was a towel, or something that she gingerly wrapped around her knee. Then she hobbled back down the steps.

Piotr was now wearing a set of trousers much too big for him. A piece of rope served as a belt and the cuffs were folded up five or six times. He was holding a shirt, but he looked helplessly toward her. “My lady, I… I can’t raise my arm to get this on.”

“Here, let me help.” She did so and then chuckled. “A fine pair we make! One with no arm, one with no leg!”

“But together we’re more than a match for anyone, aren’t we?” he said, laughing in turn.

“The food is on the table, milady” said Marilee. “I’ll hang your clothes up outside to dry. I’ll put your boots and stockings by the fire there.”

“Thank you.” They limped over to the rough table and sat and ate. The meal consisted of bread, those groat-things that they’d had at Vorkosigan’s castle, and thin slices of the scrapple. She hadn’t like the scrapple before, but now she wolfed it down and it wasn’t half bad. Hunger: Nature’s finest condiment.

Merilee came back in and then a few minutes later, the man. “No one else around,” he stated, looking closely at them. “Where’re you from?”

Almost completely ignorant of the local geography, Sheela knew she couldn’t bluff the man. “We were guests of Count Vorstakof at The Overlook. But like we said: we were out riding last evening and fell in the river. We were washed a long ways before we managed to get out again.” The truth might not be the cleverest thing to say, but she couldn’t think of any other story that wouldn’t raise all sorts of questions she couldn’t answer.

“So the Count’ll be lookin’ for you?”

“Well, I should hope so!” replied Sheela as haughtily as she could manage. “I’d hate to think he’d just assume we were dead and not bother!”

“Might be quite a while ‘fore he sends anyone to look way out here. Mayhap I could go into the village an’ get word sent up to him.” He raised an eyebrow and there was a hungry gleam in his eye.

Sheela hesitated. The last thing they wanted was word getting to Vorstakof about where they were! But to refuse would seem very strange…

“How long would that take?’ asked Piotr suddenly.

“If I started now, I could get to Holstin by nightfall. If Speaker Wilhem’s got a horse handy the word might get up to the Count’s place before midnight. He could send someone here to fetch you tomorrow I guess.”

A full day, almost. They could be long gone. “Oh, that would be splendid!” she said. “We—and the Count—would be very grateful for your help, Mr…?”

“Gundersun,” said the man, smiling for the first time. “Hans Gundersun.” He took a breath and then grabbed his gun from where he’d leaned it. “Then I best be going! Merilee, take good care of ‘em ‘til I get back, you understand?”

“Yes, Hans.”

Gundersun thumped out of the house, calling for one of the dogs, and was gone. The woman looked back at them anxiously. “Is there anything I can get you, milady? Milord?”

“For right now just a place to lie down, Merilee. We haven’t slept since the night before last and we’re very tired.”

“Oh! Of course! Come, you can use our bed!” she gestured to the loft.

Thinking ahead to their probably nighttime escape, Sheela shook her head. “I… I don’t think I can make it up the stairs again with this knee. Could you just bring some blankets down here? Right now I think I could sleep lying on a rock.”

The woman looked dubious, but she quickly did her best to make them comfortable, even hauling down the straw-filled mattress from upstairs. Sheela and Piotr curled up side by side and wrapped themselves in blankets.

“We can’t stay here long,” whispered Piotr.

“I know, but we can’t get far without rest. We’ll leave after dark, all right?”

“All right.”

“Marilee? If we’re not up, please wake us for dinner.”

“Yes, milady.”

Sheela closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Arkadi studied the tracks and sighed in relief. Two sets. Two. The boy was alive! The relief he felt was as great as when he found the drag marks on the bank of the river. He’d spent hours searching the shoreline for some trace of Piotr and the woman. He’d come miles downstream without finding anything. It had been well after noon before he found those first marks. Someone had pulled themselves out of the water at that point. But from there only one set of tracks had led away. Boot prints, larger than what a boy would wear. The woman, Lady Sheela’s boots. So only she had made it out of the river? Where was Piotr? He’d nearly despaired.

But he followed the trail she’d left and after almost a mile he’d come to here where the brush was flattened down. And leading away were two sets of tracks! One large and one smaller. The woman must have been carrying Piotr! He looked back the way he had come and silently whistled. She’d carried him all this way? Exhausted and probably hurt herself, he was impressed. Very impressed. I misjudged you, my lady.

His instinct was to follow immediately, but he was nearly exhausted himself. He pulled a strip of jerky out of a pouch hanging from his belt and chewed on it. As he ate, his communicator suddenly came to life. “Arkadi? You there? It’s Ian.”

“I’m here. I just found their tracks. They’re both alive.”

“Well thanks God for that! That’s great news! But… uh, I’ve got some bad news.”

“What? Where are you?”

“At the palace. All your injured are in good hands, but…”

“Are you under arrest or something? Let me talk to the Count!”

“No, no, he’s right here and I just told him about his son. He says that he wants a word with you once you all get back, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, I’m having some trouble with the shuttle. The number two anti-grav unit is off-line. I almost crashed this heap right into the palace! Just barely got it down! Damn it, I told Tam that we needed to overhaul this piece of junk before we left Komarr, but nooo, it cost too much, we wouldn’t need it on this trip! “

“Ian…”

“The penny-pinching git just doesn’t realize that you can’t put things like that off until…”

“Ian!”

“What?”

“Can you fix it?”

“Well… probably. Yeah, I can fix it up good enough to take off and get back to the ship, but I don’t dare try a landing again until I can tear this thing apart and really fix it. That’ll take at least a couple of days with the facilities I have.”

“So you can’t pick us up.”

“No. I’m sorry, Arkadi, but it would be suicide to try. Odds are I’d crash trying to land or not be able to take off again if I did manage to land in one piece. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. We’ll just have to get out of here on our feet. I ought to be able to catch up with Piotr and Sheela before dark. We’ll keep following the river down into the lowlands. Give the Count my position and see if he can have the Emperor send a column of cavalry to meet us, all right?”

“Will do! Good luck, man!”

“Thanks.”

Arkadi sighed, stood up, took the horse’s reins and got moving.

They can’t be too far ahead of me.

* * *

“I can’t make it any tighter without cutting off your blood, my lady,” said Piotr. He looked at the splints he’d made for the woman with sticks and strips of cloth. Her knee was terribly swollen and he feared it was broken. Arkadi had taught him the arts of first aid in the field and he’d learned well. But there wasn’t much more he could do for an injury like this.

“It’ll have to do,” she replied. “And for God’s sake call me Sheela, will you? I’m no lady.”

“Yes you are. A very great lady in my eyes. But I will call you Sheela if you wish. But once we’re on our way perhaps I can find something to make you a crutch or a walking stick.”

“That would be good. “ She pushed herself out of her chair and hobbled around the room for a bit. She winced, but at least she could move. Piotr’s shoulder still hurt, but not as badly. He had a large lump on his head, but it only hurt if he touched it.

At a noise from outside Sheela quickly resumed her seat and brushed down her skirt. The woman came in carrying their clothes.

“I think these are dry, milady,” she said. “I’ll have supper for you in a little bit.” She busied herself at the fire.

“We should probably not wear those, should we?” whispered Sheela, nodding toward their clothes. “They’d make us pretty obvious, wouldn’t they?”

“Well, our boots would still give us away to anyone looking close. But yeah, if we want to blend in, we should keep wearing these.” He indicated their loaned clothing.

“When should we leave?”

“Farm folk sleep early. We should lay down right after the meal and she probably will, too. We can sneak out after she’s asleep.”

“Okay.”

So they let the woman serve them dinner, which in content was little different from the earlier meal. They talked very little, which probably suited their host perfectly. The woman seemed very unnerved having to share her house with a pair of Vor. After the meal, he and Sheela lay down on their mattress and pretended to go to sleep. The woman cleaned up and puttered around for a while, but then retreated to the loft. Piotr wasn’t sure what she was sleeping on.

It was a struggle not to fall asleep for real. It had been a very long and trying couple of days and the five or six hours they had managed in the afternoon weren’t nearly enough. But they had to get out of here while they could. Enemies probably wouldn’t arrive until morning, but they needed to be far away from here before they did.

They waited at least an hour after the woman had stopped moving around, although it seemed far longer. He and Sheela made whispered plans about what they ought to take with them. A blanket apiece to ward off the cold, some bread, a couple of knives…

“I feel bad about stealing these things,” whispered Sheela. “These people are so poor.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “We’re leaving our clothes in exchange and they’re probably worth more than this whole farm. They’ll make out all right.” He didn’t say anything about what might happen when the Count’s men arrived to find their quarry gone…

Finally, they could wait no longer. They silently rose and Piotr collected what they would need, so Sheela didn’t have to move any more than she had to on her bad leg. He handed her a small knife and he grinned when she slid it into the sheath in her boot. The dying fire in the fireplace gave him all the light he needed. The dirt floor made no sound beneath his boots. He eased the door open and motioned to Sheela for her to follow.

They had gone about twenty paces when the dog started barking.

“Shit!” hissed Sheela.

“Come on!” said Piotr and they hurried toward the woods as fast as they could.

* * *

“No sign of them, my lord,” said Lord Vorfallon grimly. “We scoured the area and found nothing. They must have all gotten aboard the flying machine. They’ll be back in Vorbarr Sultana by now.”

Count Vorstakof nodded and took another gulp of brandy from his glass. Gone. The aliens and his hostage were gone. His last hope was gone.

“My lord,” said Vorfallon. “Imperial troops have broken through the militia we had along the rail lines. Our people are falling back, but the enemy could be in Vorstakof Savoy in less than a week. Other reports say that cavalry columns are heading in this direction. It’s obvious they knew we were here all along.”

Vorstakof nodded. The end. The end was coming.

“My lord,” persisted Vorfallon. “We have to make plans.”

“Plans?” snorted Vorstakof. “What plans could we make now that would make any difference?”

“If Dorca’s troops take the crossroads we’ll be trapped here. We need to move…”

“Where? Where could we run that Dorca won’t find us? It’s over!”

Vorfallon came closer. “It’s not over while we breathe, Viktor! As long as you are alive, as long as your son is alive we still have hope. Did you give up when your father died? Now snap out of it man!” Vorfallon took the glass out of his hand and set it aside.

Anger flared briefly in Vorstakoff, but then it passed and he nodded. “Forgive me, my friend. The strain of the last few days…”

“Nothing to forgive, my lord. But come, let’s take a look at the map.”

Vorstakoff pushed himself out of the chair and walked over to the large map on the wall of his study. Perhaps there might be some way out…

While they pondered and talked, he heard a horse galloping into the compound, but he paid it no mind. Men had been coming and going all day and all night bringing bad news. But then there were rapid steps in the hallway and excited voices and both he and Vorfallon turned toward the door. It opened after only the most perfunctory knock and several breathless men, including Vorjervis burst in.

“What? Dorca here already?” muttered Vorstakof.

“My lord!” cried Vorjervis. “A messenger! A woman and a boy answering the description of Lady Sheela and Lord Vorkosigan have been sighted!”

“What? Where?” exclaimed Vorstakof.

“A little village called Holstin, my lord. Maybe twenty miles southeast of here!”

He turned back to the map and squinted. “Damn it, bring that lamp closer! Where…? There! How the hell did they get there?” he asked incredulously. It was every bit of twenty miles in a straight line. Much longer by any road. “Are you sure?”

“The woman called herself Lady Vorlahn and she said the boy was her nephew Piotr. They claimed they had fallen in the river and been washed downstream, my lord.”

Vorstakoff traced the river with his finger. “It might be possible…”

“The men did report a commotion on the bridge during the fight and they found a dead horse there afterwards, my lord,” said Vorfallon. “They couldn’t see what had happened, but maybe…” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, my lord! We have no choice but to assume it is them!”

“Yes… yes…” He shook off the fog the brandy had put in his brain and tried to think. Any chance of getting the aliens’ weapons was gone. Unfortunately, he believed what the drunken alien captain had said. No help would come on that front. But Vorkosigan’s boy… yes… such a hostage would never overthrow Dorca, the bastard would sacrifice anyone and everyone to hold his crown. But Vorkosigan’s son might just buy the life of his own son. He doubted that anything could save his own life now, but his son… Perhaps the Vorbarra’s overthrow would have to wait for a new generation.

He turned to Vorfallon. “Go at once, Anton. Get the boy. I’ll follow as soon as I can collect everyone from here. The woman means nothing now, but get the boy!”

“Yes my lord!” Vorfallon was out the door in an instant.

Chapter 9

Arkadi peered through the leaves at the farmhouse. A faint curl of smoke came from the chimney and a dog slept near the back door. Nothing else was moving in the gray pre-dawn light. The trail had led here; was Piotr inside? With the woman? It looked like a simple farmer’s homestead, why had they come here? Because they were tired and cold and hungry, you idiot! Just like you!

He’d hoped to have found them long before this, but when night fell the day before he’d lost their trail. He’d stumbled around in the dark trying to find it again, but at last he’d given up and collapsed to wait for daylight. In truth he’d badly needed the sleep himself. He’d been on the go for how long now? He couldn’t remember.

He was awake again at the first glimmer and was chagrinned to find their trail scarcely a hundred paces from where he’d slept and this farm less than half a mile further on. If he’d just had another fifteen minutes of light…!

The trail led here, but were they inside? He was afraid to just go barging in. The dog would give an alarm and the last thing he needed was to have his brains blown out by some terrified farmer! He faded back into the woods and collected his horse again and began to circle around to the other side of the place. Maybe he could see something from there.

He reached the south side of the farm and saw the small vegetable patch, the stack of split wood and the block on which it had been split. All completely ordinary. Maybe he should just shout a halloo and see what happened.

He moved a bit farther and stopped dead. There were tracks in the ground at his feet. He squatted down. It was them! Sheela’s and Piotr’s boots! By this time he knew their shapes by heart. Two sets of tracks and they were heading south, away from the farm! Perhaps they hadn’t stopped here after all. But where were they now? Surely they must have had to stop for rest somewhere.

He led the horse and followed the tracks for fifty yards into the woods when he heard a noise behind him. Hoofbeats! A lot of them! Someone was coming to the farm! His first instinct was to keep going, but he wanted to know who this was and if they were the enemy. It could affect what he’d do next. Leaving the horse, he silently made his way back to edge of the woods. He drew his pistol, keenly aware that he only had a dozen rounds left for it after the fight at the bridge.

Eight or ten riders were coming up the narrow track leading to the farm. The dog was barking noisily and there was another dog running up with the horsemen. As he watched a woman emerged from the house and he sucked in his breath when for an instant he thought it was Sheela. She was wearing Sheela’s vest, but it wasn’t the alien woman. But she must have been here! Was she still inside? The tracks said no, but maybe she’d doubled back. He readied his pistol.

The riders slowed to a halt and a big man jumped down from his horse awkwardly, surely not an experienced rider. The others spread out to surround the house. And one of them… Vorfallon! Damnation, it was Vorstakof’s number two man! Arkadi had seen him a number of times in Vorbarr Sultana. Vorfallon guided his horse up behind the bearded man who had come up to the woman. Several of his men went to the door of the house and rushed in. Arkadi tensed. Twelve bullets and ten of them, not good odds at all.

But there was no sound except for the dogs and shortly the men emerged. “No one here, my lord,” said one of them. “But they were here!” He held up a bundle of clothes.

“What?” roared the bearded man. He turned on the woman. “Where are they?”

The woman fell to her knees in terror. “They ran off! In the middle of the night!” she sobbed. “I tried to stop them, really I did! Hans, please!”

The man reared back and struck her and she fell flat, still sobbing. “Fool! Idiot!” he shouted. But then he turned back to Vorfallon. “But milord! They were here! I didn’t steer you wrong! It’s not my fault that this worthless woman…” Vorfallon’s pistol cut off the man’s protest in mid-sentence. The man clutched his chest and collapsed. The woman shrieked for a moment before a second shot silenced her. Two more shots took care of the dogs. Vorfallon’s face was twisted in fury.

Keep going you swine! Shoot a few of your men, too, and I’ll take the rest of you on! Arkadi’s fist clenched his pistol.

But Vorfallon shot no one else and his face regained its usual icy stare. “Search the area!” he shouted to his men. “Find their trail! They can’t have gotten too far! Georg, you will stay here and wait for the Count to arrive with the others and then lead him after us!”

His men rushed to obey and Arkadi quickly retreated back into the woods before he was seen. He grabbed the horse and followed the trail for a hundred yards or so until he came to a spot where it grew faint. He then quickly obscured the next dozen paces the best he could and then took his horse and walked it in a circle, leaving very obvious prints in the ground. Then he mounted again and headed east, toward the river. With any luck a tracker would think that he’d intercepted the pair and hoisted both of them onto his horse. If he was very lucky, they would follow him instead of Piotr and Sheela.

Now all he had to do was lead them off on this false trail and then double back and find the real trail again. And then find them.

But where the hell are they?

* * *

“I’m sorry, Piotr, but I have to stop for a while!” gasped Sheela. Without waiting for an answer she flopped to the ground with a groan of pain.

Piotr sat down next to her. They hadn’t gone nearly fast enough, but he could tell the woman was in agony from her knee. “Is it worse?” he asked.

“Maybe… hard to really sort out unbearable from excruciating anymore, y’know?” She gave him a weird grin and he instinctively patted her shoulder. “How far do you think we’ve come?”

“Oh, six or seven miles.”

“Is that all?” she sighed. “We’ve been walking for hours!”

“Not in a very straight line. And we’re not going very fast.”

“I’m sorry I’m slowing you down, Piotr. If they catch up with us, you have to run as fast as you can.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“I thought your father was teaching you about duty? It’s your duty to get away. I’m of no use to them anymore, I don’t think. Now that they know there aren’t any weapons close at hand. But they could still use you against your father and the Emperor.”

Piotr stared at the woman in amazement. He’d thought these aliens were all cowards, people without honor. And here she was reminding him of his duty! But there was no way he was going to abandon her to Vorstakof. He suddenly got up. “I’m going to make you a better crutch. You rest for a while.”

He searched the forest floor and eventually found a stick that might do. It was sturdy and about the right length and had part of a fork at one end that would do for Sheela to fit under her arm. A little work with his knife and it was pretty good. He then cut off the cuffs of his much-too-long pants and wrapped one piece around the forked end to give her some padding and the other around the other end in hopes that the stick wouldn’t sink into the ground every time she put her weight on it. He took it back to her and she was surprised and pleased and he helped her get up and try it.

“Oh! That’s much better! Thank you, so much! Let’s get moving.” They started off and she did seem to be able to move more easily and they made better time. He only had a vague idea of where they were or where they were going. The river valley they were following should connect with the Gershwon River at some point and that would take them out of Vorstakof’s district and into friendly territory. And surely they would run into Imperial troops before that! But how far or how long, he really couldn’t guess. When he got out of this, he was going to memorize every map he could lay his hands on!

After about an hour they stopped and ate the last of their purloined food. He wasn’t sure of the time, clouds had been building all day and he couldn’t see the sun. Afternoon, he guessed. They’d have to find some sort of shelter before night. It looked like rain and there was a chill breeze coming up. He pulled the stolen blanket closer around him.

They got moving again and suddenly Sheela made a noise of surprise. “Oh! What happened here?”

Piotr looked and was confused for a moment and then understood. They were just crossing the top of a ridge and the opposite slope was a mass of red and brown vegetation. No trees at all. Not a speck of green, either. “Oh, that’s the native Barrayaran plants, my… Sheela. I guess no one’s bothered to burn this area out and try planting Earth plants. There are lots of places like this, especially in the mountains. And I’ve heard that most of South Continent is like this, too.”

“Really? But yes, I should have realized. We saw so much of this from orbit. They look… nasty.”

“Some of them are. They’ll give you rashes and a few are deadly. Try not to touch any with bare skin while we go down.”

“I guess we can’t go around them…” they looked along the ridge, but it was a solid mass of red-brown, except where there were rock slides where nothing would grow.

“Not unless we want to go a long way out of our way. Come on, it won’t be too bad.” They started down, but Sheela was beginning to falter.  She looked near exhaustion. They weren’t going to be able to go much farther today. He wasn’t in much better shape himself.

They were about halfway down the slope when Piotr looked back and then stiffened. There was a horseman silhouetted against the sky at the top of the ridge! “Shit!” he shouted. “Come on! We’ve got to get to the trees at the bottom!”

They increased their pace and slid and scrambled as fast as they could. There was a stream at the bottom, some tributary of the river, and green trees lined it. More forest was on the opposite ridge and if they could reach there, they might find somewhere to hide. He looked back again, but he could see nothing now. Were they being chased? There were no shouts, no gunfire, had he imagined seeing the figure?

But they didn’t dare stop. They reached the trees and then the stream. It was shallow, but rocky and before he could think to help her, Sheela was down. By the time he had her up and out, they were both soaked to the skin in the cold water. They were struggling up the other side when Sheela suddenly gasped.

Standing in front of them, holding a horse, was a tall figure.

“Well,” he said. “You’ve certainly led me on a merry chase!”

“Arkadi!”

* * *

Sheela couldn’t do anything but stand there, leaning on her crutch, and gape. It really was Arkadi Kurzov. The tall armsman was dirty and unshaven and his clothes were torn, but he was still a beautiful sight.

And then, to her amazement, she saw Piotr transform from the frighteningly disciplined future Count Vorkosigan back into a ten-year old boy. He dashed forward with a shout of delight and flung himself into Arkadi’s arms, nearly knocking the man over. But the look of joy on the boy’s face disappeared and then he was sobbing into the man’s shoulder.

And then, then, the last thing she would have expected, the gruff bodyguard closed his arms around Piotr and hugged him close. His face was twisted into an astonishing expression of relief and—was it possible?—love? There was a glint of moisture around his eyes and then he saw her staring and he turned partly away so she couldn’t see.

“I knew you’d find us!” sobbed Piotr. “I knew you would!”

“’Course I did, ‘course I did,” said Arkadi in a husky voice. “But you shouldn’t go off and get lost like this, you know.”

“We weren’t lost! We were escaping from the enemy!” Piotr scrubbed the tears off his cheeks and looked scandalized.

“Yes, of course you were. And you did a good job of it, too! Well done, my lord.” He held the boy away from him and they both grinned.

“It was Lady Sheela who got us out,” said Piotr, pointing at her. “You should have seen her, Arkadi! She just had that stunner, but she blasted anyone who got in our way! She shot Lord Vorfallon! And then when we fell in the river, I got knocked on the head. I would have drowned for sure, but she pulled me out!”

Arkadi stared at her with a strange gleam in his eye. He set Piotr down and stepped over to her and sank to one knee. “Then I am forever in your debt, my lady.”

“Oh don’t be silly,” she said automatically, but in reality she was quite touched. “I was saving myself, too, don’t forget.”

“I won’t forget anything, my lady. Ever.  But you’re hurt and here I am yapping away!”

“Oh, it’s nothing… well, no, it’s not. Yes, I am hurt, pretty badly, I’m afraid.”

He reached for the hem of her shift. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

He slowly lifted the hem until her knee was exposed and he grimaced. “Yes, you’re hurt. Well, that settles any question about who rides the horse! This tired beast can hardly carry me any farther, but he might be able to carry you for a few miles more. You can walk, can’t you, my lord?”

“Sure!” said the boy.

“Are we being pursued, armsman?” she asked.

“Yes. But I think I’ve thrown them off the trail for a while, at least. They’ll find it again, but I don’t think they’ll be able to catch up to us before it gets dark. We need to find a good hiding spot for the night.”

“But… but you’ve still got your communicator, don’t you?” asked Sheela with a growing feeling of dread. “Can’t you just call Ian and have him pick us up in the shuttle?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady. He tells me that some part of the machine—I don’t pretend to know anything about it—has broken and it will take him several days to fix.”

“Oh hell…”

“So, we will have to use our feet, and the hooves of the horse for as long as they last, to get ourselves out of here. But your friends can still track me, or us, actually, here I found your computer.” He handed her one of the devices, but she just held out her hands helplessly.

“I don’t have any pockets anymore.”

“Well, perhaps you can hold onto this, my lord?” Piotr took it eagerly.

“How does it work?”

“I can show you later,” said Sheela. “So I guess we need to keep moving?” She desperately wanted him to contradict her, but unfortunately he didn’t.

“I’m afraid so. You left a very plain trail to follow up to here. We need to go at least a few more miles—and much more carefully. And then find a concealed spot for the night.” He looked up. “It will rain before morning, so some shelter would be good, too. And you are both soaked, we need to get you dry.”

“Shouldn’t you at least tell everyone you found us?”

Arkadi twitched and then shook his head. “I keep forgetting I can do things like that!” He contacted Danno on the ship and they all exchanged greetings and the jump-pilot promised to pass the message to Weitzl, who, presumably, would pass it on to the Emperor’s people.

“But now we need to get moving.” He carefully lifted her up onto the horse, who seemed rather unhappy about the new rider. With Piotr leading the horse and Arkadi picking the path, they started up the opposite ridge. The uneven motion of the horse sent waves of pain through her knee, but there was nothing for it. It was better than trying to walk on it at least.

She tried to see just how Arkadi was avoiding leaving a clear trail, but she was too tired to concentrate and soon fell into a sort of doze. She’d jerk awake from time to time to avoid tumbling off the beast and look around and see nothing but trees which looked just like all the other trees. If it weren’t for the steady waves of pain, she’d swear they weren’t moving at all.

A large rain drop hit her square on the nose and she realized the horse had stopped. Arkadi was pacing around and Piotr was watching him. “All right,” he announced, “this should do. We can stop here for tonight. With any luck the rain will wash away any tracks we’ve left.” He came over to her and helped her down. She couldn’t put any weight on her leg at all and he put her right on the ground and wrapped a blanket around her. There was a cleft in a small rock cliff behind them and Piotr and Arkadi started gathering leaves and pine branches to make a sort of nest.

“We can’t risk a fire, I’m afraid,” said Arkadi. “We’re going to have to huddle together for warmth.” The rain was coming down heavier now and it was getting very cold. The men managed to roof over the cleft—more or less—and the three of them crowded into it, parking the horse just in front of it. Arkadi had a few strips of some sort of dried meat which they shared. It barely relieved Sheela’s pangs of hunger, but it was better than nothing.

Arkadi carefully removed the splints Piotr had put on her leg—and pronounced them well done, much to Piotr’s satisfaction—and wrapped a cloth loosely around the knee to give it some padding. But there wasn’t much else he could do. After quite a bit of repositioning, they finally ended up nestled like spoons: Piotr’s back snugged against Sheela’s front and her back against Arkadi, who wrapped his arms around both of them. The two blankets almost covered them all.

By this time the rain was coming down steadily and a fair amount was leaking through their impromptu roof. But Sheela was far more aware of the big armsman holding her so closely. His steady breathing blew on her hair and was strangely comforting. She fell asleep thinking about those amazing tears in his eyes.

* * *

Arkadi woke up before dawn and was shocked to find that sometime during the night Sheela had somehow rolled over and they were now lying face to face. He wasn’t sure how that could have happened without his noticing…

There were things he needed to do, but he lay for a while longer, looking at her face, just barely visible in the gloom. She really was a fine looking woman. And brave. He knew how much pain that knee must have been causing her, but she’d never complained. And she fought her way out of Vorstakof’s stronghold and saved Piotr! Hell, she’d probably saved him and Goldcamp and the other five men, too, because there hadn’t been a chance in a thousand his crazy plan would have worked. Well, three of the others men, anyway, since two of them had died. That’s your fault, man. Yes, quite a woman. Brave, honorable… and she’s not Vor… That last thought came out of nowhere and shocked him. It led placed he didn’t want to go.

So instead, he carefully disentangled himself from the other two, tucked the blanket around them, and emerged from the cleft of rock. It had stopped raining, but the clouds looked like it could start again. He took the horse and retied it in a patch of grass so it could graze and then began to scout around. There was no sign of any danger, but it might not be far off. Before they’d stopped yesterday he’d spotted a rocky bluff a little farther on. Perhaps he could get a view of the countryside from there. He hiked up, working the stiffness out of his muscles, and scrambled up the rocks.

There was a good view, as he’d hoped, so he stayed low to avoid giving anyone a view of him. Yesterday he’d deliberately headed a bit west, away from the most direct route to safety. Their pursuers would expect them to keep following the smaller river down toward the Gershwon and the Emperor’s troops. Hopefully they wouldn’t have expected them to head in this direction, higher into the hills. The move seemed to have worked since they hadn’t been found yet.

Unfortunately, the move also let their pursuers get between them and help.

Arkadi squinted and peered to the east. There was a heavy mist down toward the river and it made a backdrop that silhouetted a nearer ridge. He looked closer… Damn. Yes, there were two or three tiny specks moving along that ridge. There would be no reason for any locals to be up and out there this early. They must be Vorfallon’s men. Or in any case he’d have to assume they were. They were almost due east and headed south—right across the path they needed to take. But fortunately, they weren’t headed this way… yet.

His initial thought was that perhaps they could let these men go on and then cut across behind them, get to the smaller river, cross over it somehow, and then head southeast on the other side. But then he remembered what Vorfallon had said back at that farm: Count Vorstakof was going to be following with all the rest of his men. Apparently he was abandoning the Overlook and getting out while he still could. If Arkadi tried to cut across the rear of Vorfallon’s advanced party he might run right into the rest of them. No. East and southeast were not directions he wanted to go today.

He used the communicator to call the aliens and get an update on the overall situation. As he’d expected, the shuttle was still broken, although it had reached the alien ship and Ian was working frantically on it. Imperial troops were moving on Vorstakof Savoy and the resistance seemed to be collapsing. A strong column expected to reach the Overlook by tomorrow. Unfortunately, there was no route for them to cut across country and come directly to where Arkadi and the others were located. They’d have to come the long way around and that might take three days. On the other hand, there was a regiment of cavalry—the Emperor’s Own Lancers, no less—that had been shipped by rail from Vorbarr Sultana and made a forced march and were now in the town of Yardly, only forty miles away to the southeast. Unfortunately, that was the direction they dare not go.

“Well,” said Arkadi to the alien pilot, Danno, who was relaying information, “the only thing that really matters now is for us not to get caught. I don’t want to stay here, we’re too close to the enemy, but if we headed west, we could put some distance between us and then just wait until the troops can get to us or Ian can fix your vehicle.”

“That might be best,” replied Danno. “But there is one thing. I’ve been watching the weather patterns in your area and there looks to be a big storm headed your way. If I’m seeing things right, the higher elevations are getting a lot of snow. You really need to find some shelter.”

Arkadi frowned. It was the very end of summer down in the lowlands and farther south. But up here, this far north, they often got autumn snowstorms in the mountains. As exhausted and hungry as they all were, he wasn’t sure they could survive a heavy snow.

“There’s a little village, just a few houses, about ten kilometers, er, maybe six miles, west of you, Arkadi. Maybe you could head that way.”

It would be risky, but not as risky as staying out in the open. No heavy clothing, only two blankets, no tent, no food, not daring to make a fire… “Okay, thanks, we’ll move that way today and see how the weather turns. We’ll let you know what we decide when we get there.”

“Right. Good luck.”

He came back down off the bluff, being careful not to expose himself—those riders on the far ridge might have binoculars—and went back to where he’d left the others. They were both awake and looked relieved to see him. “Where did you go?” demanded Piotr.

“Just scouting,” he replied. “The enemy is off to the east, so we are going to be moving west today. Uphill, I’m afraid, but we need to avoid them until help can arrive.”

“And how soon is that likely to be?” asked Lady Sheela.

“At least two days, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, but there it is. How is your knee feeling?”

“I don’t know. I’m so cold I can’t feel anything.” She had a blanket wrapped around her, but she was shivering. He was feeling pretty well warmed up from his exertions and the sensible thing would have been for him to share his warmth with her, but for some reason he found himself very reluctant to touch her. You’re being stupid. Stop it. He went over and sat down next to her and had her lean against him while he rubbed her arms and back vigorously. She said that it was helping although it was probably warming him more than her. He noticed Piotr stamping his feet and walking in circles. And all of their stomachs were growling. Yeah, we have to find real shelter before the storm gets here.

He looked at their camping site and reluctantly concluded there was no hope of concealing the fact that they’d been here with less than an hour’s work and they didn’t have the hour. They had to get going.

He examined Sheela’s knee and told himself that it looked a little better. He re-wrapped it, but did not put the splints back on. “We need to move. There’s a village to the west and we’ll get food there.” Neither of them tried to argue. He lifted her up and got her on the horse. He was worried about the horse, too. He’d been pushing the beast without mercy and he wasn’t sure how much farther it could go. He made sure they took Lady Sheela’s splints and crutch with them just in case.

At first they made pretty good time, although he had to pick their path carefully. Climbing the eastern slope they would be exposing themselves to any watcher farther east just the way he’d spotted those riders earlier. So they stayed in the trees as much as possible, forcing them to take a roundabout route. By mid-morning they had crossed over the ridge and ought to be out of sight from the east. But shortly after that the horse threw a shoe and it was quickly apparent the poor beast could go no further. At least not carrying a rider on this sort of ground.

So the splints went back on and Arkadi put Sheela’s arm over his shoulders and they struggled on. Piotr did the scouting now, while leading the horse, and the boy was as careful and cautious as he could have wished. By noon the clouds, which had thinned somewhat during the morning were becoming gray and ominous again and a cutting wind was whipping down from the northwest. He checked in with Danno and got a fix on their position. The village was just another two miles away.

They caught sight of the village just about the time the first flakes of snow started falling. Arkadi insisted on scouting the place thoroughly before they went in, but he realized they didn’t have much time before Piotr and Sheela would be risking frostbite. He left them in some thick bushes and then quickly went forward. He returned about fifteen minutes later.

“W-what did you s-see?” asked Piotr, shivering in his blanket.

“It looks to be all right. Nothing unusual, no crowds of horses. Most of the houses are closed up against the storm. There’s one house a little apart from the rest. There’s smoke coming out of the chimney so someone’s there. I think we’ll try that one.”

“F-four walls and a r-roof and a fire is all I ask right now,” said Sheela.

“And you shall have that, my lady! But we are still in Vorstakof’s district so we have to be careful. I think we should pose as a family on a trip who has gotten lost. Piotr, we’ll pretend to be your friend Daren’s family. You are Daren Dakman, I am Boris Dakman and Lady Sheela you are Gina Dakman, all right? Good. Come on, let’s go.” He helped her up and they started out again. The wind was stronger and the snow coming down harder and the light was starting to fail even though sunset was hours away. He steered them by the quickest route, no need for stealth now: visibility was dropping fast.

They reached the house without encountering anyone or being challenged. He pounded on the door until someone opened it. A middle-aged woman with tousled hair and a frantic look on her face stared at them in surprise. “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded.

“I’m Boris Dakman and this is my family. Please, we’ve gotten lost and my wife is hurt and we need food and shelter. Will you help us?”

The woman looked of a mind to slam the door in their faces, but she hesitated. “I will, but you have to help us in return. Can you chop wood?”

“Of course…”

“Can your boy cook a meal?”

“Sure I can!” exclaimed Piotr.

“And you, woman,” she said pointing at Sheela. “Do you know any healing skills?”

“Well, I’ve had some first aid training in school, but…”

“You’ve got two hands! All right then! Come in and warm yourselves. But then we need wood chopped! We’re nearly out. Boy, you can draw some water. The well’s in the back. And you, woman, come and help us.”

“Help? With what?” Sheela looked dazed.

“With my daughter-in-law! She’s fixing to have her baby!”

“What!” exclaimed Arkadi and Sheela in unison.

“When?” asked Piotr.

“Right now, boy! Right now!”

Chapter 10

Count Vorstakof wearily dismounted and let a man take his horse. He looked back at the column of his men as they dispersed to find food and shelter in this village for the night. A hundred men. His total force was down to a hundred men. Well, Vorfallon had a dozen more and there were a few scouts and agents here and there. And there was the district militia, too, out there sacrificing themselves against Dorca’s well-trained and equipped regiments in a hopeless effort to buy their lord time.

But all he had under his immediate command were these hundred. When his father had marched out to meet Dorca at Neshaminy, he’d had over four thousand in his army alone. With his allied counts there had been nearly fifty thousand. Fifty thousand and they’d still lost. Tonight, he had a hundred. There was a fear and a weariness in him that filled his soul.

Another man directed him and his son to a house that had been commandeered for his use. There was hot food and wine waiting. Very welcome after the chill rain that had been falling on them much of the afternoon. Up in the mountains it would be snow. An early winter—but I knew that, didn’t I?

They ate and drank mostly in silence. He could tell that his son was worried but hiding it as well as he could. The luster was fading very quickly from this adventure. Men came and went, giving information and asking for orders. Vorstakof responded automatically, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired.

Eventually Vorfallon arrived, but from the look on his usually imperturbable face, he knew he wasn’t bearing any good news. He flopped down in a chair and a servant scrambled to provide him with food and drink. Vorstakof gave him a few minutes and then said: “Well?”

“Not a trace of them, my lord. I felt sure that we would have run them down before now, but that false trail near the farm led us astray and before we could double back the rain had washed away too much of the true trail. But that rider did double back and he did catch up with the woman and the boy. That much I’m sure of. And I have to say: whoever was on that horse that picked them up knew his business.”

“You’re sure there was just one rider?”

“We found no trace of anyone else. But if there was a larger party with more horses then, well…” he held out his hands.

“The game would be over.” A large, well equipped party could have ridden hard and be completely out of reach by now.

“So! We have to assume that there was just the one and the quarry is still out there somewhere. Once I realized we’d lost the trail I spread my people out along the river and pushed downstream. With your people coming up now we have a cordon across their path.”

Vorstakof nodded. “But we have no idea where they are, or where they’re going and all they have to do is lay low until Dorca’s troops drive us off and find them.” He shook his head and took a drink from the wine.

 “Viktor, I’ve been thinking about this and there are a few conclusions I’ve come to.”

“Yes?”

“Well first, the aliens had some means of communications with them while we had them. Somehow they were in touch with their compatriots and somehow they knew we were at the Overlook.”

“I have to agree with you. The drive on Vorstakof Savoy was a feint to distract us from their rescue attempt. Just as our defense of the approach to the town was a feint to draw them away from us!” He snorted in disgust at the idea that Dorca had outwitted him.

“Yes. But their rescue attempt went awry. It’s apparent they managed to get Captain Hodgkins away in their flying machine, but the woman and the boy fell in the river and got left behind. Correct?”

“So it would seem.”

“But if they were able to track the aliens why didn’t the flying machine just go and pick them up downstream? Or later at that farm where we know they spent the night? We know the boy and the woman were still on foot—later on horseback—a day after they escaped. Why?”

“We know so little about the aliens’ capabilities…” said Vorstakof. “But if I had to guess, I’d say that for some reason they can no longer track them. But neither can we and time is on their side, Anton”

“Yes, my lord. But wait… do you have a map?”

“I can get one.” He sent a servant to get the map in his baggage. He returned with it shortly and they unfolded it on a table.

“Now we are here,” said Vorstakof, pointing to the map. “We have a cordon of people along here…”

“But the woman and the boy could be anywhere in this whole region,” interrupted Vorstakof, moving his hand over a large section of the map. “After you lost them, they could have gone any direction but east. They must know as well as we do that all they have to do is avoid us and they’ll eventually be rescued.”

“Ah, but I have a new bit of information that I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet, my lord,” said Vorfallon with a grin.

“What?”

“I got word from a militia officer that there’s a force of Imperial cavalry in Yardley.” His finger went to a point on the map east of their cordon.

“So what? Dorca’s got a dozen columns moving into the district.”

“Ah, but he was able to identify these troops! The Emperor’s Own Lancers. The whole regiment.”

“What difference does… oh…” Vorstakof looked sharply at his man.

“Yes! One of Dorca’s best regiments, it was still in the capital only a week ago. Why send it there? There’s nothing of importance in Yardley. Certainly nothing of importance in these god-forsaken mountains. Why send them here instead of the Overlook or Vorstakof Savoy where they can make a victory parade of it?”

“Because they know there is something important here!” cried Vorstakof. “He’d want his best and most reliable troops here!” Then he frowned. “But that would mean they do still have communications with them, doesn’t it? So why doesn’t the flying vehicle come get them?”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps when they planned the raid to rescue them they made some back up plans just in case something went wrong. They might have set up a rendezvous point, well away from where our people would likely be. They would go there and wait for rescue.”

“It would have had to be a fixed point—and we don’t know where, Anton! We don’t have the time or men to search every village, farmstead, and cave over five hundred square miles!”

“We don’t have to, Viktor! The Emperor’s lancers will show us where the spot is! Just stay ahead of them and they will point us right to the rendezvous!”

Vorstakof sat back in his chair.

“It could work, father,” said his son. “And what other choice do we have now?”

“None at all. All right then! That simplifies our task enormously. Tomorrow we just fall back in front of the Lancers no matter where they go, searching every possible hiding place in their path.”

“Yes,” said Vorfallon. And then in a lower voice: “And even if we don’t find them we’ll still have room to run.”

* * *

The woman was still moaning. How many hours had this been going on? Sheela had no clue. She sat on a chair next to the bed, stroking the woman’s hand and trying to rest her aching knee. Childbirth! She looked with a sort of fascinated horror at the woman’s quivering belly. There was a baby in there trying to get out. Or at least the woman’s body wanted the baby out, the baby didn’t seem to want to go. The woman’s name was Kara and the older woman, her mother-in-law, was named Ludmilla. A younger girl, a niece if she’d heard correctly, was Darra. The three of them were the only ones there before Sheela and the others arrived.

Sheela looked up as Arkadi came into the house with another load of wood.  There was a roaring fire to keep the house as warm as possible and the armsman had to work hard to feed it. After the gnawing cold of the last two days it had felt wonderful at first, but now even Sheela was wishing for a puff of cooler air. She pushed herself to her feet and limped over to Arkadi. “Still snowing?” she asked.

“Starting to let up, I think,” he replied. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“A few hours here and there.”

“How’s it going?” he nodded toward the woman in the bed.

“Arkadi!” she hissed quietly. “I don’t know anything about this!”

“What? I thought all woman were born knowing how to help other women give birth.” He was trying to make it a joke, but Sheela wasn’t laughing.

“Not on Komarr! We don’t… we don’t do it this way there!”

“You don’t have babies? Then how’d you get here?”

“We don’t do it like this! We use uterine replicators.”

“Huh?”

How to explain? “Do you remember that conversation at the first dinner? In Vorkosigan Surleau? Where we talked about growing meat in vats?”

“Yeah…” The man’s eyes were wide and he took a half-step back from her.

“Well we sort of do the same things with babies. They grow inside tanks instead of the woman. Then, when they’re ready, we just open the lid and take them out. No labor! Nothing like this!”

Arkadi looked horrified. “So… so men and women on your world don’t…” He looked her up and down. “You know.”

“Of course they do! Just not to make babies!” She looked over to Kara. “All I can do for her is hold her hand and mop the sweat off her head.”

“Well, if that’s all you can do, it’s still better than nothing, I guess. Piotr’s still sleeping?”

“Yes,” she said nodding toward a pile of blankets in one corner where the boy was curled up. “He’s as worn out as any of us.” She paused and then said: “You’re very fond of him, aren’t you? I mean above and beyond your duty to protect him and all.”

Arkadi looked away for an instant but then nodded. “Yes. He’s a fine lad. Someday he’ll be a great count. And a good man, too.”

“He’s not a bad cook, either. Did you teach him that?”

Arkadi started to reply but then there was a much louder moan from the woman and Ludmilla shouted for Sheela. Reluctantly she went back to her chair. She saw Arkadi visually measuring the pile of split wood next to the fireplace, nod, and then sit down and close his eyes.

“Good man you’ve got there,” said the older woman. “Doesn’t complain.”

“How… how much longer is this likely to go on?” Sheela nodded toward Kara.

“Who knows? You’ve been through it yourself, haven’t you?” She looked toward Piotr.

“He… he was easy,” she lied. “Just an hour or two and he popped right out.”

“You were lucky. But I should have suspected this would be a hard one. I was a day and half with the father.”

“Where is the father?” asked Sheela. She’d been wondering, but was afraid to ask.

“Off with all the other men. One of the Count’s men came through five days ago calling out the militia. Some sort of trouble off to the east. Picked a hell of a time for it. Hope they’re back soon.”

A chill went through Sheela. From the information Danno had been passing them it sounded like the Emperor’s army was smashing through the militia easily. She hadn’t really given a thought about just who those militia were. Kara might be a widow by now…

It went on. Sheela slept in her chair on and off and did what little she could in between. Just after dawn she got up and went to the door and looked out. The snow had nearly stopped, but the vista it had left behind was breathtaking. A soft white blanket had covered everything. The ground, the houses, the trees. Amazing…

“Do you have this on your own world?” She jumped. Arkadi had come up silently next to her.

“No, not really. It does snow sometimes, but outside the domes, of course. This is… this is beautiful.”

“From inside it is…”

“Shut that door!” shouted Ludmilla. And get over here, woman! I think it’s happening!”

Sheela turned with a jerk. Kara was thrashing more violently than ever and crying out. She shut the door and hurried over. Arkadi drifted along with her. The noise had woken Piotr and the girl, Darra, was there, too. “What do I do?” asked Sheela. She felt as frightened as she did facing Count Vorstakof’s wrath.

“Just be ready with those towels. Looks like this is gonna be a real mess.”

As she watched in fascination, the baby’s head emerged. Dark, wet hair… then the face, wrinkled like a pink prune…a new person entering the universe… welcome, little person, welcome… then the shoulders, the mother screamed as they came out. The widest part, the rest should be easier… Then…

Then…

“Oh, God!” hissed Arkadi. Darra gasped and Ludmilla groaned. Piotr didn’t make a sound, but his eyes were like saucers.

The left arm looked perfectly normal, but the right arm. There was no right arm. Just a little bump below the shoulder. Then the rest of the baby squirted out and she saw that both legs were shriveled and twisted. It was a girl.

“Oh dear, the poor little thing!”

“What?” cried the mother. “What’s wrong?”

“Hush, hush, Kara,” said Ludmilla, giving Sheela a scathing look. “You rest. You rest. I’ll take care of things, dear.” The mother began to sob.

“But…” said Sheela.

“You clean things up and keep your mouth shut! And don’t forget the afterbirth is still coming. Boy! Bring some hot water!” Piotr jerked like he’d been slapped. He took one more look at the baby and then dashed to the fireplace. Ludmilla cut the umbilical in one sure motion and then scooped up the baby in a towel and moved away. Arkadi went with her muttering something about helping.

Sheela just stared for a few moments and then the placenta emerged and she gingerly wrapped that in another towel and set it aside. Piotr appeared with a kettle of hot water and Sheela busied herself wiping up the bloody mess that remained. Kara was still sobbing hysterically while Darra tried to comfort her.

“Oh! Oh! Jon will never forgive me!” she wailed. “My fault! All my fault…!”

“It’s not anyone’s fault!” protested Sheela. “It was a mu…”

“I know it was a mutie!” screamed the woman suddenly. “You don’t have to tell me that! Get away! Leave me alone!” The woman actually lashed out at her and Sheela cringed back. She retreated to the far side of the room, shaking.

It was only then that she noticed that Arkadi and Ludmilla were gone.

A few moments later they both came back in through the door. Arkadi glanced at her and then went to the fireplace and started rearranging the wood pile for no purpose at all. Ludmilla went back to her daughter-in-law. But…

But…

She went over to Arkadi.

“Where’s the baby?” The man gave her a look of incomprehension.

“Arkadi! Where’s the baby?”

“Where do you think?” he growled.

Her eyes went to the door. “No!” she cried and sprang up despite her knee and rushed outside. Barbarians! Had they left it in the snow to die of exposure? How could they? She looked around frantically and caught sight of the footprints in the snow. She hobbled along the track, the shin-high snow spilling down her boot tops. The trail led around the house to the corner of the fenced-in back yard, near the shed where they’d put their horse.

No baby.

Just a small patch of freshly turned earth. “No…!” moaned Sheela. She started to kneel down.

A hand grabbed her and pulled her roughly back. It was Arkadi. “What do you think you’re doing, woman? What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me?” she cried. “Me? What did you do?”

“The grandmother cut the thing’s throat, as was proper, and I buried it. What the hell else could we do with a mutie like that?”

“Do? Do? It was a baby! A baby girl!”

“It was a mutie. I don’t suppose you have those on Komarr either?” His voice was angry, dripping with sarcasm.

Sheela rocked back, madder than she’d ever been in her life. She slapped Arkadi’s face as hard as she could. “Murderer!” Then she fled back into the house.

* * *

Piotr tried to help with the cleaning up, but he was shaking so badly the old woman chased him away. He stumbled around aimlessly for a few moments, the horrible image of that… thing wouldn’t leave his head. He’d seen horses born, even helped with them, he’d seen sheep and dogs born. But this… God! How awful!

He was still trying to figure out what to do when Sheela fell in through the door. She collapsed in a corner, sobbing. The other women just gave her a nasty look and shook their heads. Piotr slowly went over to her. “Are you all right?”

“How could they? How could they?” she choked. “It was a baby!”

“It was a mutie, my lady. A monster. It had to be done.” The woman just wept harder. Piotr looked for Arkadi, but he was still outside somewhere. For lack of anything better, he sat down next to Sheela and listened to her cry.

“How could he? How could he?” she kept repeating.

“He didn’t enjoy it! What kind of a man do you think he is?”

“Not the man I thought!” she replied angrily. “When I saw him with you, I thought… I thought that maybe he had some shred of humanity in him! But I was wrong!”

“You do him wrong, my lady.  I…” He hesitated.

“What?” She stared at him, eyes red and cheeks wet.

“When I was seven or eight I was playing in the hayloft of the stables. I heard a couple of the other armsmen talking. They didn’t know I was up there. They were talking about Arkadi. They said… they said that when he was very young he was married…”

“Him?” exclaimed Sheela scornfully. “Pity the woman!”

“He was married,” repeated Pitor and he frowned at her. “His wife died in childbirth. I don’t… I don’t know if it was a mutie, but they both died. After that he joined the army for a while and then became one of my father’s armsmen. He has feelings, my lady. Trust me on that.” The alien woman stared at him for quite a while and then she turned away and buried her face in her hands. But at least she’d stopped crying. Piotr got up and moved away. After a while the girl, Darra came over to him.

“Your mother is kind of high-strung, isn’t she?” she asked.

“My mo…? Oh! Yeah! She’s always been like that. Something that happened when she was little, I think, but no one’s ever told me about it. Most of the time she’s okay.”

“What about your da? Why hasn’t he gone with the other men in the militia?”

“First we’ve even heard about it. We were on a trip to visit some kin down south and got lost in the hills. Mighty kind of you folks to take us in! We thank you for it.”

“Couldn’t let you freeze. And you’ve earned your keep. Well some of you have,” she added glancing at Sheela. “Come on, we need to fix breakfast.”

He went over to the hearth and began preparing the morning meal. As they worked, the girl kept eyeing him. Finally he said: “What?”

“Nice boots,” said Darra.

“Oh, thanks. My da did some work for a nice Vor lady and she gave these—they were her son’s—to me and a pair of hers to my mother. Cast-offs, but nice cast-offs.” He grinned and congratulated himself on the neat lie. “I’ll be sad when I outgrow these.”

“Uh huh. Did she give your da that fine revolver, too?”

Piotr’s grin faded.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Uh huh.”

* * *

Arkadi stomped around outside for a while to blow off steam. Crazy woman! What was the matter with her? This was a tragedy, sure, but one that must happen a hundred times a day all over Barrayar. What the hell did she expect people to do? The little thing was far better off dead. She’s from somewhere else. Somewhere where things like this don’t happen. She’s being unfair with you, sure but, don’t you be unfair with her.

He calmed down a bit and then called the alien ship to get the latest news. There wasn’t much that concerned him. The main army was only a day away from Vorstakof Savoy and the column moving on the Overlook would be there even sooner. Nobody’s even home there now. The force in Yardley was supposed to push on this morning, but there was no telegraph connection there, so any information would be coming from courier riders a full day from the nearest telegraph. A damn shame the colonel of the Lancers didn’t have a communicator! There would be no way for Arkadi to coordinate their movements with the cavalry. “Just stay put and they’ll come to you,” advised Danno. “With the snow I guess you couldn’t go anywhere anyway, eh?”

“Not today, no.” But Arkadi could see that the clouds were gone and the sun would be out soon and the wind had shifted to the southwest. The snow would melt quickly as it did this time of year. By tomorrow there probably wouldn’t be a trace of it except in shady areas. “We’ll be able to travel tomorrow if we have to.”

“Well, with any luck you won’t have to. Okay, talk to you later.”

The situation made Arkadi uneasy. He didn’t like just sitting here and trusting that someone else would come and rescue them. The little village, which had been their refuge during the storm, felt more like a trap now that the sun was shining.

Putting off going back inside, he went and checked on the horse in the shed. It was still lame and he doubted it would be ready to move any time soon. Short of stealing them, he could see no way of getting mounts for the three of them, and stealing them wasn’t really an option right now. He doubted there were three serviceable horses in the whole village. So if they were going to move it would be on their own feet. And that meant…

Steeling himself, he went back into the house. Piotr was working with the girl to make breakfast and Sheela was slumped in a corner. He went over to her. She glared at him, but said nothing. “We may have to move on tomorrow. Can I look at your knee?”

She didn’t say anything, but pulled her skirt up high enough so that he could see. The swelling had definitely gone down and that was a relief. If it was truly broken there would be no improvement. The purple discoloration had spread but it was a bit fainter, a sign of healing. “How badly is it hurting you?” he asked.

“Not too bad.”

“Well, you rest today. Try not to walk on it.”

“Fine.” She turned her face away from him.

Sighing, he went and got two plates of food from Piotr and brought one over to Sheela and sat down next to her. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.” She took it and ate, saying nothing and never quite looking at him. Piotr joined them shortly.

“So what do we do next?” he asked.

“I don’t like the idea of just sitting here and waiting for the Lancers,” he replied quietly. “Vorstakof’s still looking for us and all it would take is one word from these locals about strangers and he’d be sure to investigate. And even without that, the militia is still opposing the Imperial advances. There could be detachments in this area and wouldn’t it be grand if they decided this village was a good place to make a stand?” He snorted. “I might get drafted into the defense! Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

“So what do we do?” repeated the boy.

“Today we rest. We’ve all taken a beating the last couple of days. With the snow, nothing’s going to be happening anyway. But it will be mostly gone by tomorrow and the Lancers ought to be getting close. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and find some spot with a good vantage point. I’m thinking that spot where we camped the other night might do. If the cavalry knows their business—and I’m sure they do—they’ll be sending out a swarm of scouting parties in a wide arc ahead of their advance. We’ll try to contact one of those. In the meantime let’s get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

The others agreed and he took their plates to wash up. Both of them were asleep before he got back. The women were still fussing over and consoling the grieving mother and he spent a while splitting a bit more wood. It was warming up already and the snow was melting fast. When he came back in the older woman came over to him.

“Thank you for your help with… with everything.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out better. But thank you for letting us stay. We would have been in real trouble otherwise.”

“Why in the world were you out there in the first place?”

“Oh, just some bad luck and some bad decisions on my part. But we’ll be moving on in the morning—assuming we’re welcome to stay another night.”

“You’re welcome. I daresay we all need some sleep after what happened.”

“Is your daughter-in-law all right?”

“She’ll get over it. She’s not the first one to have a mutie. My boy will probably take it hard, though. Wish he’d get back here.”

“Yes, what’s all this talk about the militia being called up? We hadn’t heard a thing.”

“Don’t’ know for sure. Not like they’d tell us, eh? Some sort of dispute between the Count and the Emperor, the rumormongers say. I just hope no fighting gets up this way. I remember the last war. A couple of villages not that far away got burned to the ground. We don’t need that now with winter coming on!”

“No. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” The woman nodded and went back to her daughter-in-law. Arkadi sat down next to the others and tried to stay awake.

At noon he woke the others and they ate lunch. Their hosts were mostly sleeping now and paid them little mind. “Piotr, I am going to have to sleep for a while this afternoon. That means you will have to stand watch. Lady Sheela needs to rest her knee as much as possible so she can walk tomorrow. I’m going to be counting on you.”

“I understand,” said the boy.

“You’ll need to take a look outside from time to time, but do not get far from the house. Try not to let anyone see you. Understand?”

“Sure.”

“All right then. Wake me for dinner.” Sheela hadn’t said a word. Arkadi leaned back against the wall and slept.

Some time later Piotr was shaking him awake. “Arkadi! Wake up!” he whispered.

“What is it? “Arkadi was instantly awake, reaching for his pistol.

“I’m not sure. I can see smoke. A lot of it!”

Arkadi got to his feet and followed the boy outside. The lad pointed to the east. It was late afternoon and beyond the nearby ridge he could see a dark smudge against more distant clouds, bright in the sunshine. “Come on, let’s take a look.”

The snow was now just a few inches of slush and they slopped their way up to a hill where they could get a view to the east. Arkadi carefully surveyed their surroundings as they went, but no one seemed to be around. Peering over the crest, they could look down the valley and there was no doubt something big was on fire maybe ten miles away. Several somethings. “What do you think it is?” asked Piotr.

“A village maybe. Houses for sure. The question is whether it’s Vorstakof’s men burning them in front of the Lancers to slow their advance, or if it’s the Lancers burning things just for fun.”

“Fun?”

“Soldiers do that, boy. Pyromaniacs, every one of ‘em.”

“Are we still leaving in the morning?”

“Oh yes.” Maybe sooner.

“Good. I think that girl, Darra, is suspicious of us. She keeps asking questions about where we’re from and where we’re going and who we’re related to.”

“We’ll need to keep a watch tonight, too. With the Lancers this close there could be all sorts of stragglers coming through.”

He took one last look at the smoke and then turned back toward the house.

“I think tomorrow is going to be very interesting.”

Chapter 11

Sheela groaned when Arkadi shook her awake. Time to go already? The previous day and then the long night had seemed endless with her waking up frequently, but she felt like she could sleep for another week.  It was still dark, but she could see Piotr working by the fire.

“We’ll have some breakfast for you soon,” said Arkadi. “But first let me wrap up that knee of yours.”

The man had made a new set of splints and wrappings and a real crutch for her yesterday and now he put them on. She was intensely aware of his touch. “There,” he said when he was done. “Give this a try.” He helped her up and she gingerly put her weight on the bad leg. It ached, but not too badly. She was able to waddle around in a stiff-legged fashion without much pain and the crutch made it even better.

Piotr served tea and then breakfast and her head seemed to clear as she ate. As they were preparing to leave the woman, Ludmilla, approached them carrying something. “So you’re going?”

“Yes,” said Arkadi. “We have to.”

“My niece thinks you are deserters or thieves or worse,” she said.

“And what do you think?”

“I think that you helped us when we needed help. And that you took no more from us than you needed—though you had the power to take anything you wanted. In my ledger, that’s all that counts. Good luck to you, Boris Dakman.”

“Thank you, for all your kindness.”

The woman held up what she was carrying. Two sheepskin jackets. “These were my son’s until he outgrew them. I don’t… I don’t think we’ll be needing them again. It’s still cold outside and it will get cold again. Your wife and son are welcome to them.”

“Thank you!” said Sheela, gratefully taking the warm garment and putting it on in place of the thin blanket she had been wearing.

“Our horse is too lame to go with us,” said Arkadi. “You’re welcome to him. He might recover enough to be worth something.”

The woman thanked him and then they left the house. It was getting light off to the east, but still dark in the village. Arkadi had decided that they would go through the village and take the road leading to the west and then try to double-back unobserved. But as they approached the main part of the village, perhaps a dozen houses clustered together, they noticed some sort of commotion and Arkadi slowed them down and finally stopped them so he could scout ahead. Sheela huddled with Piotr next to a fence for some long anxious minutes until the armsman reappeared.

“It’s all right. Come with me and don’t stop or say anything.”

He led them down the unpaved road and ahead they could see several fires that had been built outside and people clustered around them. As they got closer Sheela saw that there were fifty or sixty of them, all in tight clumps. Mostly women and children, but a few men, mostly older. They had bags and bundles and all manner of stuff with them…

Refugees!

She stared in amazement, but couldn’t meet any of their eyes. Arkadi led them on past and one of them called out and said something about the fire and food. They kept going. When they were past the village she said: “This is because of us, isn’t it? This wouldn’t be happening if we hadn’t come here?”

“If you hadn’t come to our world, then, no, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Arkadi!” protested Piotr. “Lady Sheela had no idea this would happen. You’re not being fair!”

“Fair? Welcome to Barrayar.”

They walked about a mile to the west of the village. Sheela’s knee was throbbing, but it wasn’t too bad--yet. The road was muddy, but the snow was mostly gone. After they turned a bend and a stand of trees shielded them from the village, they turned off the road and moved north. There was a long, wooded ridge ahead of them, apparently the same ridge they’d camped along three nights earlier. Once they reached it, they would turn east and go back to that camp if they could find it.

But the ridge proved to be much more difficult than Arkadi had counted on. Not only was there still deep snow in the shaded areas under the trees, but many of the deciduous trees, still carrying their summer foliage, had cracked and fallen under the weight of the heavy snow. Toppled trees and broken branches were everywhere and often blocked their path. They stumbled and fell and moved very slowly.

Cursing and grumbling, Arkadi eventually stopped and called Danno on the ship. He confirmed that the valley on the other side of the ridge appeared to be uninhabited and less heavily wooded. So instead of following the ridge immediately, they cut clear across it to the northern side. It was hard going, but once they were across it got easier. Despite being on the north side, the snow was much less and because the trees were thinner, there were fewer obstructions. They made better time for a while.

By noon Arkadi estimated that they had made it back to about due north of the village. Sheela guessed they had walked nearly ten kilometers only to end up two kilometers from where they started. But she supposed it was worth it if it threw pursuers off their trail. They halted and had a meal from the food that Ludmilla had given them. Sheela was very tired and her knee was getting more painful. Arkadi let them rest for an hour or so. At one point Piotr went off to answer the call of nature and she was left alone with Arkadi. The man had scarcely spoken to her all day. She couldn’t really blame him.

“Armsman?” she said.

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her.

“I’m sorry I hit you. And sorry for the things I said.” Now he did look at her. “I was wrong to pass judgment on you and your people. I’m a stranger here and I don’t have the right.”

He stared at her for a while and then grunted and nodded his head. “Sorry you had to see that.”

She let out a long sigh. “There is so much we could help you with! Those mutations are caused by the radiation from the supernova—the Great Fire of your legends. It’s damaged the genetics… the seed of some people. We can fix that! No baby ever need be killed like that again!”

“That would be a great blessing—if it could happen.”

“It can! Or it could! Your emperor should be spending his gold to buy gene scanners and uterine replicators and antibiotics instead of plasma arcs to burn the towns of rebellious counts! Count Vorstakof harangued me and Tam for an hour about Dorca’s tyranny. I didn’t believe him, but now I wonder if maybe I should.”

“If Dorca falls then every count would be spending his gold to buy plasma arcs to burn his neighbors’ towns—and muties would still have their throats cut.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose…” Piotr returned and they fell silent, not wanting to discuss such things in front of the boy.

Sheela sat there, slowly chewing the last of her lunch. Well, at least we’re talking to each other again…

A motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head, stiffened, and sat upright.

“Oh look! Look there!”

* * *

Arkadi spun around and followed Sheela’s pointing finger, hand on his pistol. At first he didn’t see anything, but then, through a gap in the trees he saw, far down the slope of the ridge, a cluster of red and blue lance pennants, bobbing along!

“The Lancers!” cried Piotr catching sight of them as well. “The Lancers!”

They all sprang to their feet and hurried in the direction of their potential rescuers. They reached the edge of the woods and sure enough a group of about twenty cavalry were jogging along. But they were three quarters of a mile away, heading west, and already even with their position. Piotr jumped up and down, waving his arms and shouting. Arkadi waved and yelled as well.

But the cavalry didn’t notice.

“What are they? Deaf and blind?” snarled Arkadi. Well, there was only one thing for it. He drew his pistol and fired in the air. The loud crack echoed across the valley and the horsemen came to a ragged halt, looking around in all directions. Arkadi waved again and Piotr had never stopped. Even Sheela took off her new jacket and waved it like a flag. Finally the cavalry saw them and sorted themselves out and came up the slope toward them at a brisk trot.

“Oh, thank God,” sighed Sheela.

Arkadi let off a small sigh himself: the cavalry were towing four spare horses. Someone was actually thinking ahead. He put his pistol away. The troopers drew close and spread out, on guard in case this was some trick luring them into ambush. But a moment later they came to a halt a few paces away. The officer in command, a very young ensign, called out: “Lord Vorkosigan, I presume?”

Piotr stepped forward. “That’s me!” he cried proudly.

Belatedly, Arkadi realized that he’d been careless. What if this had been a trick on Vorstakof’s part? Fake troopers to draw them out. But no, the Emperor’s Own had some of the gaudiest uniforms in the army, even the campaign dress these troopers were wearing. Dark blue tunic and trousers with lots of red trim and brass buttons and their distinctive five-sided shakos with brass crests and tall white plumes. There was no way Vorstakof could have known ahead of time which regiment was being sent, let alone make copies of the uniforms. No, these were the genuine article. Unless Vorstakoff’s men killed enough of them to make up a phony patrol with stolen uniforms… And we just happened to run into it? Stop worrying, man.

“And I am Ensign Vorklaus,” said the officer making a jaunty salute. “Honored to be at your service, my lord.”

“Thanks! This is my father’s armsman, Arkadi Kurzov, and this is… this is Lady Vorlahn,” said Piotr with a grin.

“Armsman. My lady.” He nodded in their direction. “Well! I expect you’d like a ride out of here!” said the ensign brightly.

“If you don’t mind,” said Arkadi. “Where is the rest of your regiment, ensign?”

“Oh six or seven miles back,” he replied. “But don’t worry, we’ll have you there in no time! Colonel Vormallus will be so pleased!” At his direction three of the horses were brought forward. Piotr climbed into the saddle, excited and far, far too energetic for someone who’d been through this ordeal. It just wasn’t fair. Arkadi waved away one of the troopers and helped Sheela onto a horse himself. He had to remove the splint on her leg so she could get her feet into the stirrups. Finally he hauled himself into the saddle of the third horse. The ensign gave the order and the party turned around and rode east.

“Quite a stroke of luck running into you!” chatted Vorklaus. “And to think I was so annoyed about being put at the far right of the scout line. Didn’t think we’d have a chance of finding anything. And I wasn’t all that keen about being alone out on the flank, either, truth to tell.”

“You boys been finding any trouble?”

“Oh nothing we couldn’t handle! These militia or partisans or hedge robbers or whatever you want to call them can’t fight worth a damn—begging your pardon, my lady,” he said nodding toward Sheela. “Most of them armed with old flintlocks or even bows! They’ll take a shot or two and then run. Drove ‘em like sheep all the way from the railhead to Yardley.” He paused and his expression grew more serious. “But since yesterday we’ve been running into a different sort. Disciplined, well mounted, and armed with good rifles.”

“Vorstakof’s men,” said Arkadi.

“Indeed? You mean the traitor himself is in the area?”

“So we are assuming. His only hope now is to seize Lord Vorkosigan. He can’t leave that to his lackeys. So he’s got to be close by.”

“Well! Perhaps this is really my lucky day! Just bringing back his lordship should get me a lieutenancy, but if I bag Vorstakof as well, I might just make captain!”

“Your primary duty is to deliver Lord Vorkosigan to safety, Ensign,” said Arkadi very firmly.

“Of course! Of course! Don’t worry armsman!” He glanced at him, perhaps wondering just who outranked who in this situation. Arkadi grimly reflected that Vorklaus was closer in age to Piotr than to himself.

“It’s my job to worry. Did you run into any trouble getting here today?”

Vorklaus looked less jovial. “A bit. We only had three spare horses when we started. Some coward picked off my corporal from a thicket just after we started out this morning. Would have stopped and spitted the bastard if we’d had the time, but we had to move on. Lucky thing we did, too, isn’t it?”

“Yes, seen any more of them since then?”

“Some men on horseback from time to time. But never close. What? Are you thinking they might try an ambush on the way back?”

“The thought had occurred.”

“Well, it’s a shame you drew attention to yourself by firing your revolver, then.”

“I only fired it because you and your men didn’t see us standing in plain sight, waving and shouting our heads off.”

“Well, yes, but you were rather far away and…” Vorklaus muttered something inaudible and then excused himself and went off to shout at his men for a while. Arkadi drifted back next to Piotr and Lady Sheela.

“Is it really over?” asked the woman.

“Not quite. We still have to get back. And that reminds me, I suppose I should give Danno the news so he can pass it along.” He called the alien on his ship and told him that they had linked up with the cavalry. The man was elated.

“That’s great! I can tell Ian to ease off on the shuttle repairs. He says he’s nearly done, but the poor sod hasn’t slept in two days. Without some sleep he’ll end up doing more damage than good. I’ll pass along the news to Weitzl so he can tell the emperor, too. Hope to see you all soon!”

Arkadi clicked off, shaking his head that this Komarran would make telling his engineer a higher priority than telling the Emperor! He told the others about the conversation.

“You really rode on their shuttle, Arkadi?” asked Piotr. “Do you think I might get the chance?”

Arkadi inwardly shuddered at the memory—and the thought of his charge flying in that terrifying and unreliable device! “We’ll see,” was all he said in reply.

As they jogged along a great weariness seemed to fill him. It was almost impossible to believe all that had happened in the past week. What had he been doing before this mess had literally dropped into his lap out of the sky? What would he be doing once it was all over? When would it be over? They would get back to the capital either by rail or—horrors!—by that damn shuttle and then what? Presumably the aliens and the Emperor would make their deals and then they would leave. Sheela will leave… For some reason the thought disturbed him.

A faint gunshot instantly roused him from his reverie. His head jerked around, but he saw nothing but the ridge to the south. Had it come from there? Vorklaus and his troopers were on alert now, too. Another shot and then several more, definitely from the south. The other side of the ridge, maybe. “Any friendly troops over that way?” demanded Arkadi of the ensign.

“Why yes. The whole squadron’s spread out to the south of us in a long arc. The next detachment over ought to be Lieutenant Vorgusson’s. He’s my immediate superior. Sounds like they’ve run into a bit of a fracas, doesn’t it?” The firing was increasing in volume.

“Yeah, and he would be the closest help. I don’t like this ensign.”

“Don’t worry, we can…” His reply was cut short by the sound of a horn up on the ridge to their right. “That’s not one of our bugles…” The man looked anxious now.

“A hunting horn. One guess who they’re hunting!” The first horn was answered by another—from ahead and to their left and a moment later by another to their rear. Arkadi twisted around in his saddle and saw a group of horsemen coming down the ridge behind them. Ten or twelve and  a quarter mile back. Damn! We nearly walked right into them!

“I say! The blighters are all around us!” exclaimed Vorklaus.

“No kidding!” cried Sheela. “What do we do?”

“Well we… uh, we push right through them, of course! Form up men! Form up! Forward at the canter! Jensen! Sound the rally!” Vorklaus drew his sword and his bugler began tooting on his horn. The rally call would draw any other friendly forces to them, but Arkadi doubted that any close enough to hear would be able to respond. Vorstakof’s hounds would keep help at bay until his wolves could close in on the prize!

But in spite of his youthful bravado, Vorklaus’ plan was probably the best, reflected Arkadi. With an unknown number of enemies to the front, rear and sides, stopping or turning aside made no sense. The only thing to do was to head for the nearest help. And with the next closest detachment already engaged, that meant finding the main body of the regiment—somewhere up ahead, presumably.

The troopers formed into a wedge-shaped formation with Vorklaus, Piotr, Sheela and Arkadi inside the wedge. At least the enemy couldn’t risk any long-range fire: they might hit the boy by mistake and he was no use to them dead. They were nearly galloping now, the pennants on the lances whipped wildly in the breeze. Arkadi kept a close watch on both Piotr and the woman. He had no worries for Piotr’s ability to stay on his horse, but the woman… she was doing well so far, but he reminded himself that a week ago she’d never even seen a horse in the flesh. But his duty was to Piotr… what if she fell?

They thundered down a long slope, angling toward where a road entered a woods. Arkadi guessed that was the road leading to Yardley. Somewhere down that road should be the bulk of the Lancers. But how far down?

A shot from behind made him look back. Damn! Their pursuers had closed to just a few hundred yards and they were taking aimed shots, probably hoping to take down some of the escorting troopers. A yell from Vorklaus brought his attention back to the front. A group of horsemen, fifteen or twenty at least had emerged from some fold in the ground and were galloping right across their path! Trying to cut them off from the road. Three hundred yards… two hundred… puffs of white smoke erupted around the group in front. A trooper to his right cried out and tumbled off his horse.

“At the gallop… Charge!” screamed Vorklaus, brandishing his saber.

Arkadi gave the horse its head, checked to make sure Piotr and Sheela were still with him, and drew his revolver. “Hang on!” he shouted. Around him the lances were coming down to the level… one hundred yards… fifty… the enemy was suddenly here…

With a crash of steel they collided. Men and horses screamed and guns banged. A horseman appeared right in front of him with his rifle reversed like a club. Arkadi shot him in the face.

And then they were through. A glance showed him that the boy and the woman were still there, another look behind showed a dozen men and horses down, lancers and Vorstakof’s men tangled together. The surviving enemy were turning their mounts to pursue and the other group that had been behind them had almost caught up. “Go! Go!” he cried.

They made it to the road and then into the woods. More shots from behind and a man next to him fell. Vorklaus was still with them, his shako missing and blood streaming down his face, but he was grinning like a loon. His saber had blood on it, too. Your first kill, boy? Thought Arkadi insanely. You’ll feel different about it tomorrow.

He turned and fired two shots at their pursuers, but he doubted that he’d hit anything. “Where the hell’s this regiment of yours?” cried Arkadi. The road ahead was empty.

“They can’t be far! But those bastards are going to pick us off one by one like this! You go on with the boy! We’ll turn and hold them!”

There must be twenty pursuers and only ten troopers left, but Vorklaus was right: it was the only thing to do. He quickly looked at Piotr and Sheela. The boy had a wild-eyed look of terror and exhilaration on his face. The woman was leaning forward with her arms halfway round her horse’s neck. Her expression was entirely terror. “We keep going!” he shouted to them. “No matter what, keep going!”

“Troop… Halt!” shouted Vorklaus.

“Go!” screamed Arkadi.

Immediately there was a burst of gunfire. A bullet zipped past his head and he could hear men and horses screaming behind him. But they kept going, Piotr was beside him, shouting, “Arkadi!”

“Keep going!” He reached over and grabbed the bridle of the boy’s horse. Don’t stop now!

They rounded a turn and just ahead was a solid mass of horsemen filling the road. Blue uniforms, blue and red pennants, the Emperor’s Own Lancers in all their glory. Arkadi reined in his horse and they clattered to a stop just in front of the surprised cavalry.

“Arkadi!” shrieked Piotr at the top of his lungs. “Sheela is down!”

He spun around. Sheela wasn’t there.

“Her horse went down just as the lancers turned!” cried the boy, tears on his face. “I tried to tell you! You’ve got to save her!”

An officer was there, a puzzled expression on his face. “Lord Vorkosigan?”

“Yes!” snarled Arkadi. He lunged out and caught the startled officer’s tunic in his fist. “And you guard him with your life, captain! Your life! Now send some of your men to follow me! Your comrades are being butchered just ahead!” Move!”

He released the officer and turned his horse and galloped back the way he’d just come. Behind him he could hear shouted commands, ahead of him there was gunfire. Vorklaus was still holding out. Was Sheela with him? Was she alive?

He rounded the turn and fifty yards ahead was a mass of dead and struggling horses and dead and fighting men. A few Lancers were huddled behind the bodies of the mounts, using their pistols and carbines against a similar, but larger group just a few yards farther away. The narrow road was clogged with bodies both human and equine. But where in all this carnage was Sheela?

As he neared the fighting, suddenly his horse lurched and then collapsed to the ground, throwing him over the saddle and into the mud. He landed and rolled and came up on hands and knees. He scrambled forward to cover behind another horse. “Come on!” he shouted and then looked back.

The road behind him was empty. “Son of a…!” he cursed.

Unfortunately, the road ahead wasn’t. In addition to the dozen or so men on foot, a new party of horsemen, only five or six thankfully, was galloping up. Arkadi took aim at one of them with his pistol, squeezed the trigger and dropped him out of his saddle. This drew the attention of one of the dismounted men who fired a rifle but missed. Arkadi shot back and the man tumbled backwards out of sight behind a dead horse.

But where was… there! The white sheepskin coat she’d been given that morning was suddenly visible and he saw her pulling herself out from a tangle of horses and harnesses. She was twenty paces away, right in the midst of the enemy. Lie still, dammit! Play dead, woman!

The newly arrived enemy on horseback halted and one of them—Vorfallon!—was shouting angrily at his men, waving them forward. But suddenly he looked past Arkadi and his face twisted in rage. Arkadi looked back and finally, here came the Lancers trotting around the bend. Vorfallon clenched his fists and then waved his men to fall back.

As he did so he noticed Sheela, practically at his feet.

They both froze in recognition and then Vorfallon began to lean down…

No you don’t, you bastard! Arkadi raised his pistol. He had one shot left and at this range one was all he needed. He squeezed the trigger and…

…the hammer clicked down on an empty chamber.

The shot I fired to signal Vorklaus! He’d forgotten! Cursing himself he dropped the revolver and searched the ground for a loaded weapon among the dead lancers. He finally found one, turned…

But Vorfallon—and Sheela—were gone. The riders were galloping away, the remaining men on foot were falling back and shooting as they ran. Arkadi turned as the Lancers came to a halt behind him.

“Keep going! Chase them! They’ve got the alien woman!” shouted Arkadi, running back to them.

But the officer at the head of the column, Arkadi saw that it was the colonel of the regiment, held up his hand. “Have to clear the road first. Can’t get through this mess.” Desperately Arkadi looked back and saw that the man was right. Two dozen horses, some of them still thrashing around and screaming only as wounded horses can scream, blocked the narrow road completely. The woods on either side were a tangle of undergrowth with no easy way through.

“Well hurry, dammit! They’re getting away!”

A few dozen men dismounted and went to work, dispatching the wounded horses, pulling the wounded men to safety and then dragging the dead, horses and men out of the way. Arkadi frantically worked to help. One of the men was Ensign Vorklaus, dead with a neat hole in the center of his forehead. Hope they still give you your lieutenancy, boy. You had guts.

Finally enough of a path was cleared that horses could get through single file. The leading company trotted off, but almost immediately there was new firing. Word came back that there were still enemy on foot in the woods on either side of the road. The troopers dismounted and drove them out, but by the time they’d cleared the woods the sun was sinking behind the western mountains.

“We’ll have to wait until morning,” said the Colonel. “Too damn many of these partisans to go forward in the dark…”

“Colonel!” exclaimed Arkadi. “We have to…!”

“Especially with Count Vorkosigan’s son with us, armsman!” He gestured to where Piotr was sitting his horse and looking as frantic as Arkadi felt. “We’re thirty miles into hostile territory and I can’t even send him to the rear until things are secure. I’m sorry about the woman, but my orders put top priority on Lord Vorkosigan. I’m sorry.”

“Arkadi! We have to get her back!” cried Piotr. “We have to! She saved my life!” The future count was melting away before his eyes and the little boy was coming through. Tears were streaming down his red face and he was quivering. “Get her back! Get her back! I… I command you!”

He sank to one knee. “If you command me, my lord, then I shall obey.” He rose and faced the colonel. “Colonel Vormallas, I put Lord Vorkosigan in your hands and charge you with his safety. If I do not return, see to it that he reaches his father.”

The Colonel bowed his head gravely. “I accept your charge with honor, armsman.”

“And if I could borrow a horse I would be grateful.”

“Certainly. Godspeed, armsman.”

Chapter 12

There’s something wrong with these damn horses… they keep getting shot… Sheela tried to clear her head, but everything was just a blur. The mad flight on horseback, the wild melee with thrusting lances, flashing sabers, roaring guns, and screaming men and then, just when it seemed like they were safe, her horse going down and her colliding with some very hard ground. Her injured knee was in agony again and she had a sharp pain in her wrist where she’d tried to break her fall. The fact that the wrist, along with the other one, was tied tightly to the saddle of yet another horse didn’t help.

A prisoner again. This was getting very old. She was surrounded by a small group of horsemen and one of them was leading her horse at a brisk trot. The setting sun was in her eyes and she could hear gunfire behind her. Growing fainter, thankfully. No, not thankfully! Gunfire means friendly troops. But it was growing fainter and that meant help was getting farther away instead of closer. What did that mean? Where were Arkadi and Piotr? They weren’t here and she hoped that meant they had gotten away. She could remember seeing them still mounted, still galloping away, as she fell. She hoped they were safe.

One of the riders came next to her and she realized it was Lord Vorfallon. He was the one who’d grabbed her up from the ground. At first she’d just been slung across his saddle, face down. She’d nearly vomited in that position, but later he’d handed her off to someone else who’d tied her on this horse. He said something to her, snarled it, really, from the expression on his face, but she couldn’t catch the words.

He looks really pissed…

Yeah, yeah, he would be if Piotr was out of his reach. That was Vorstakof’s last chance and it was gone now. All he had was one rather beat up Komarran woman with a debatable value as a hostage. Any rational man would give up…

Somehow she doubted he was going to do that.

Vorfallon moved away and the horses began to move faster. The new pace bounced her up and down in the saddle and she gasped at the pain that caused in her knee. They passed small groups of men on foot. Some of them were carrying weapons and there were shouted exchanges, but the horses kept moving.

The sun dipped behind the mountains and long shadows reached out to engulf everything. The temperature dropped and Sheela was glad for the sheepskin jacket. It was fully dark when they entered a small village. Sheela had no idea where they were. It could have been the same village where they had spent the night for all she knew. There were a few dozen horses tethered here and there and men in the streets. A house at the far end was on fire, but no one seemed to care.

She was untied from her horse and roughly shoved toward one of the larger houses where there were lights in all the windows.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this…

* * *

Arkadi dismounted at the edge of the woods. He loosened the girth strap on the saddle and tugged the saddle blanket out from under and tossed it aside. He hated riding without it, but the Lancers, true to form, had an elaborately embroidered saddle blanket that would be far too noticeable. He retightened the strap, looked the horse and himself over and decided it would have to do. In the gathering dark there was nothing that screamed: Imperial Cavalry! A closer inspection of the saddle and tack—and the carbine in the saddle sheath—would give him away, but he had no intention of letting anyone get that close. His own clothing was nondescript, and after four days of this, he looked like just another one of Vorstakof’s militia. He hoped.

“Arkadi? Are you there?” The tiny thing in his ear startled him as it always did.

“I’m here, Danno.”

“Any sign of Sheela?”

“Not really. I know the general direction they’re going, but that’s all. I wish I’d given her that computer-thing, but she had nowhere to carry it! Piotr has it. If we could just track her like we did before…”

“Well, I might be able to help,” said the alien.

“How?” asked Arkadi, eagerly.

“Our orbit is bringing us right over your area now. I’ve got the ‘scope doing an infrared scan and…”

“A what?”

“It’s a way of making heat show up as visible light. Warm or hot things will glow in the dark. Warm things like people or animals.”

“So you can spot Sheela?”

“It’s not that good! It can’t tell one person from another. But what it’s telling me now is that a lot of people and a lot of what I’m guessing are horses are converging on a village about six kilometers—say four miles—west of your current position. Looks like one of the buildings is on fire, too. Not sure what that means.”

“That’s the direction the trail was leading. Vorstakoff must be rallying his people there!”

“Seems likely. And it’s a good bet they’ll have Sheela with them.”

“Thanks, Danno! Thanks a lot,”

“You’re really gonna try to get her out of there all by yourself? I’m reading at least fifty or sixty people—not including any that might be inside the houses. And more are still headed that way—although a few seem to be going right on through without stopping.”

“The cavalry won’t risk a night attack—not with Lord Vorkosigan there,” said Arkadi. “I’m all there is.”

“Well God bless you man! And good luck!”

“Thanks,” he said and clicked off. I’m going to need it.

He mounted the horse and then cautiously left the woods. It seemed likely that Vorstakof’s sworn men were all falling back to that village. But the countryside was still crawling with refugees and fleeing militia, scared and trigger-happy. He had to be careful.

But he also had to hurry.

He didn’t know what Vorstakof hoped to gain from having Sheela. Her value as a hostage was almost nil now. The Emperor wasn’t going to make any concessions to get her back. Right now Dorca had everything he wanted: trade with the aliens and Vorstakof’s rebellion crushed. No, he wouldn’t give an inch for Sheela. Once Vorstakof realized that, the woman’s life expectancy was vanishingly small.

So Arkadi had to get her out.

It was crazy. In the larger scheme of thing she didn’t matter. She matters to the boy. Yes, and? And what? Don’t lie to yourself, man. She matters to you, too. It was true. Damn it, it was true. She did matter to him. It made no sense at all, but she mattered to him.

And he’d get her out.

He rode west.

* * *

“So he’s gotten away?” said Count Vorstakof. The man was sitting in a chair in a house only a little bigger or nicer than the one that Sheela had spent the previous night in. She was sitting in another chair, her wrists still bound, a dozen feet away. Several other men, including Vorfallon, the Count’s son, and that Vorjervis fellow, were in the room, too. There seemed like quite a commotion going on outside.

“I’m afraid so, my lord,” said Vorfallon. “The woman says he was with her right up to the point her horse was shot.” I did? Sheela had no recollection of any such conversation, but she supposed it might have happened. “And the men who survived the fight confirmed that a boy was on one of the horses and that he made it down the road that the cavalry came up just a few minutes later.” Vorfallon bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Viktor.”

Vorstakof nodded. “You did your best. Everyone did their best. It just… wasn’t meant to be.”

“We still have time to make plans…”

Vorstakof shook his head. “The only decisions left are when and how.”

Vorfallon opened his mouth to say something but then stopped. He looked around the room, clearly agitated, until his eyes fell on Sheela. “The woman may still have some useful information, my lord. If I could question her alone.”

A chill went through her. A chill that got colder when Vorstakof turned his eyes on her for a moment. Lifeless eyes. He just made a small wave with his hand and then turned away. Sheela gasped when Vorfallon grabbed her by her bound wrists and yanked her out of her chair.

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.

He dragged her down a short hallway and into a small room and shut the door behind them. “I really… I really don’t know anything that—ahh!” Without warning he slapped her across the face and she stumbled back against the wall.

“I’m perfectly well aware of that,” sneered Vorfallon. “So keep your mouth shut!”

Oh dear…

The man stalked back and forth, growing visibly angrier with each passing second. “Damn you!” he snarled. “Damn you and all your stinking Komarrans! Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you even care?” Sheela didn’t think he really wanted an answer. She just pressed herself against the wall.

“You’ve destroyed him! Destroyed him! Vorstakof was a better man than you can imagine! A great man! Better than Dorca could ever be! And in time the other counts would have realized that, seen Dorca for what he really is, and rallied around Vorstakof! “ The man threw his hands in the air.

“And then you came! Looking for nothing but money! And you ruined it all! You ruined everything you damned bitch!” He came forward and slapped her again and she fell to her knees.

“He’s too good a man to exact revenge for revenge’s sake, woman!” He glared down at her.

“But you’re not.” She said, looking back at him.

 A hideous smile creased his face. “No I’m not.” He hauled her to her feet and suddenly there was a dagger in his hand, centimeters from her throat. He leaned closer. “Frightened are you, bitch? Well, I’m not letting you off this easily!”

He used the dagger to slice the ropes tying her wrists, but that was only so he could strip off the sheepskin jacket she’d been wearing. He tossed the jacket and the dagger into a corner. Then he stepped forward, grabbed the collar of her borrowed dress with both hands and tore it open.

* * *

Arkadi stared through the darkness at the village. Getting here had been ridiculously easy. It appeared that Vorstakof had called in all his household troops—those that were left. Only the shattered remains of the militia still roamed the countryside and their only thought now was to get home again. No one challenged him, although a few might well have relieved him of his horse if he’d given them the chance.

The rough ground of the darkened countryside had been a greater threat than the militia and his horse had stumbled several times. But as he neared the village—he was relieved for some reason that it was not the same village they’d sheltered in—he could see many lights in and around the buildings. As Danno had said, one building was burning, although it was nearly out by now.

He forced himself to take his time. Getting killed through carelessness wouldn’t do Sheela any good. But at the same time something told him time was short. There were some sentries, but they were widely spaced and he was able to penetrate their perimeter, leading his horse on foot. He left it tethered in an alley and continued alone.

It didn’t take long to see that most of the men were clustered around the biggest house. Vorstakof must be there. Was Sheela there, too? Only one way to find out. After a quick study of the layout, he decided to approach through the rear. There was a fenced in yard with a garden that provided a covered approach. He slipped over the fence and silently made his way through the bean poles toward the house. His long knife in one hand and his—reloaded!—revolver stuck in his belt.

He froze when he spotted a man sitting by the back door. He watched for a few moments, but the man had his knees pulled up and his head nodded forward. Asleep. Arkadi had to remind himself that Vorstakof’s men had been on the go for as long as him and were probably just as exhausted.

But the man was blocking the back door. Kill him? It wouldn’t be a problem, but was it the best plan? He could think of nothing better so he started moving forward. He froze again when he heard a noise. A voice? Perhaps a child? Or a woman? It was off to the left…There was a low addition to the house sticking out in that direction which had several windows. Over there? He eased his way over to the end of the addition and peered around the corner.

There was a man standing there and Arkadi tensed. But the man had his back to him and there was the sound of splashing liquid. The man was taking a piss into the hedge. Making an instant decision, Arkadi brought up his knife, stepped forward and slammed the hilt end into the side of the man’s head. He dropped like a stone and lay still. Arkadi held his breath but there was no alarm.

But a moment later there was a soft thud from inside the house. He looked down the side of the building and saw a shuttered window with light seeping around the edges. He stepped over the man and moved down to it. The wooden shutters were in need of repair and were loose around edges. He ought to be able to pry them open enough to see…

Sheela!

She was there! Right there! Without a conscious thought, he tore open the shutters and vaulted into the room through the glassless window opening. Knife out, pistol ready.

It was her. She was naked to the waist and covered in blood.

But it wasn’t her blood.

She was rigid as a statue, backed against the wall, her eyes staring at nothing. A small knife was clenched in her quivering fist.

A groan made him spin around. Vorfallon was on the floor, his head propped up against the opposite wall. His hands were clasped around his belly and blood was oozing between his fingers. He coughed and blood came out of his mouth. He was staring at Sheela.

“It… it seems that I underestimated you… again, milady,” he said in a gurgling voice.

Then his eyes closed and his hands fell away and Arkadi could see that the man had been gutted like a fish.

He tore his eyes off Vorfallon and went to Sheela. He had to get her out of here and she mustn’t scream. “Sheela? Sheela?” he whispered. “It’s Arkadi. We have to go.”

She blinked, twitched, and brought the knife up. Arkadi grabbed her wrist and clapped his hand over her mouth. She struggled for an instant and then her eyes focused on him and she stopped.

“It’s me! Not a sound, all right?” She nodded and he let go of her. She didn’t scream, she just looked at the bloody knife and dropped it. Arkadi caught it in mid-air and then stooped and slid it into the sheath in her boot. “You can’t go out in the cold like this…” He looked around and spotted her sheepskin jacket in the corner. He scooped it up and put it on her and then guided her toward the window.

Somehow they managed to squirm through together and then he silently led her through the garden and then boosted her over the fence. They made their way along the deserted alleys to where he’d left the horse. He mounted and then pulled her up on the saddle in front of him. She leaned against him and he put an arm around her. With his free hand he turned the horse around and slowly rode out of the village. The sentries he’d eluded earlier were nowhere to be seen and he just kept right on going. Sheela was quivering. Crying maybe. He couldn’t tell.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

She clutched him and buried her face against his chest. Yes, she was definitely crying.

They rode east.

* * *

Count Viktor Vorstakof looked at the body of his old friend. He should have been furious, outraged at what had happened, but he couldn’t summon any anger. It had all spilled out of him over the last few days. Not a drop left. Anton’s vices came back to bite him at last. He’d known of his friend’s excesses, even counted on them at times, but he felt no guilt over it. Being a count called for such things. I just wish you could have made a better end.

The men around him were shouting orders, rushing about, trying to find the assassin. He doubted they would.

It didn’t matter anymore.

“My lord!” cried Vorjervis, coming up to him. “The enemy knows where we are now! We must move at once!” Vorstakof didn’t reply and Vorjervis repeated his exhortation. Didn’t the man realize what must happen next? He turned away from Vorfallon’s corpse and motioned to his chief armsman who came to him immediately.

“Gentlemen,” he said to both him and Vorjervis.

“My lord?” said the men in unison.

“You will find my son and take him away from here. Into the mountains. Guard him, guide him, keep him alive. He won’t want to go, but knock him on the head and tie him to his horse if you have to. Understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” said the armsman.

“B-but my lord!” cried Vorjervis. “What about you?”

“In the morning I will ride out to engage the enemy. There is nothing else left to do.”

“But…” Vorjervis looked at him in horror.

“I have given you a command. You will carry it out. Immediately.”

Vorjervis stepped back, his face quivering in dismay. But then he bowed deeply and fled the room, the armsman following. Vorstakof stood silently before gesturing to another armsman. “Summon my servant,” he said.

“At once my lord!” The man hurried off.

He walked slowly back into the main room of the house. It was quieter now. The servant arrived and looked at him anxiously. “Kurt, I need the old trunk. I know you brought it along. You know the one I mean.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll get it.”

He wandered around the room, afraid to sit down for fear his legs would not get him back up again. A part of him wanted to find his son, give him one last embrace, one last message. But no. it would be too cruel. It was better this way. The other men kept their distance. He could feel their eyes on him. Eventually Kurt came back, lugging the large, old trunk. He set it on a table and opened it and then stepped back.

Vorstakof came forward and rummaged through the trunk’s contents. He pulled out a heavy wool tunic of dark green with yellow trim on the collar, cuffs and long tails. A matching pair of trousers followed. And a pair of black boots. He gave them to Kurt. “Have these brushed and polished. I want to look my best tomorrow.”

“At once, my lord!”

Then he lifted out a fine leather belt with gold stitching and a pair of swords, one long and one shorter. He drew the blades and was pleased that they were still gleaming, without a trace of rust. He put them back and then dug deeper, finally finding what he sought near the bottom. A bundle wrapped in tissue paper. He pulled off the paper and shook out the fabric within. It hadn’t seen the light of day in decades, but it was still as he’d remembered it. Yes. Yes, this was the moment for it. He handed it to the armsman.

“Find a staff suitable for this. We’ll need it in the morning.”

* * *

“Get up, my lord! Do you plan to sleep the day away?”

Piotr opened his eyes and then sat upright at the sound of that familiar voice. “Arkadi! You’re back!” The armsman was standing in the door of the large tent where Piotr had spent the night. “You’re back!” he shouted again, springing off the cot. “Where’s Sheela? Did you find her? Is she safe?” Arkadi grinned.

“Yes and yes. She’s asleep in one of the other tents. Or she was. Your shouting has probably wakened her.”

“Is she all right?” Arkadi’s face darkened and it alarmed him.

“She’s had a hard time of it, boy. Battered and bruised and she’s seen a lot of things women weren’t meant to see. But she’ll be all right. There’s iron in her, as you know. Just let her rest and don’t be pestering her for stories when you see her! She’ll tell you her tale when she’s ready and not before. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir. But how are you?”

“Oh, no worse than the last time you saw me. Better really as I’ve got one less thing to worry about and a couple of hours of sleep, too. Getting her back went easier than I’d hoped. I think Vorstakof’s men had just about given up and they weren’t as alert as they should have been. Anyway, I found her and got her away and we made it back a few hours ago. ‘Course the fool pickets nearly blew our heads off when we came out of the dark, but all’s well that ends well, I suppose.” He smiled. “But come on, they’ve got breakfast waiting.”

Piotr pulled on his trousers and his boots and then put on the sheepskin jacket he’d worn yesterday and followed Arkadi out of the tent into the sunshine. It was several hours after sunrise and the Lancer’s camp, just beyond the woods where they’d met them, was bustling with activity.

“Where is Sheela?” he asked.

“That tent over there,” replied Arkadi pointing. “I doubt she’ll wake up for a while.”

As the armsman had promised, breakfast was waiting, set out on folding camp tables. Uniformed men were there to serve them and Piotr discovered that he was ravenous. “So what now?” he asked between mouthfuls of groats.

“We get you back to your father. That’s the top priority. I’m not sure exactly how that’s going to happen. We’ll have to ask Colonel Vormallus.”

And just at that moment, the Colonel approached them. “Ah, good morning, my lord!” he boomed. “And a good morning it is, too! All your party has been returned to you.” He made a formal bow to Arkadi. “Armsman, I congratulate you on your rescue of Lady Vorlahn and I return your charge to you.” He nodded toward Piotr.

“What happens now?”

“I just now received a message by courier, my lord. The 14^th Dragoons are in Yardley and will be moving forward to take over these mopping up operations. My orders are to escort you back to the railhead where you will embark for Vorbarr Sultana. So, we will be breaking camp in an hour or so.”

“What about Vorstakof?” asked Arkadi. “He’s just a few miles over that way.”

“I’ve sent out scouts, but I rather imagine he’s gone by now. The dragoons will have to take up the hunt when they…”

A loud bugle call interrupted him and he looked up. A group of lancers were galloping into the camp. “Excuse me, my lord,” said the Colonel. He walked toward the approaching troopers and Piotr popped up and ran after him. He heard Arkadi sighing loudly behind him.

The commander of the group, an ensign, reined to a halt and saluted Vormallus. “Sir! There’s a party of horsemen approaching from the west! About thirty of them, all in a bunch. They are armed, but they are coming slowly.”

Vormallus turned to his staff and caught sight of Arkadi. “Vorstakof, do you think? Coming to surrender?”

“A possibility, sir. He’s got to know his situation is hopeless now.”

“Well! We must give him a proper reception! Lieutenant! Sound the assembly!”

In moments the camp was stirred up like a nest of bees. Men running everywhere, horses being saddled, lots and lots of shouting. “You’re welcome to accompany me, my lord,” cried Vormallus over the din. Piotr looked eagerly to Arkadi and the armsman nodded.

Men appeared from nowhere to provide them with horses. Piotr was eager to get going, but suddenly Arkadi stiffened and looked back. Piotr turned and saw Lady Sheela coming out of her tent. Amazingly she was wearing a too-large Lancer’s uniform. What other clean clothes would they have? Arkadi glanced at him and then ran over to her. Piotr guided his horse to follow.

“What’s happening?” asked Sheela. Piotr looked closely and was shocked to see the bruises on her face. There was a dark scab where her lip had been split. He was furious. How dare they!

“We think Vorstakof is coming to surrender,” said Arkadi, taking her arm. “You’ll be safe here.”

“I want to see.”

“But…”

“I want to see!”

“All… all right. Corporal! Another horse, here!”

This was quickly provided and shortly all three of them, surrounded by the regimental staff, were riding out of the camp to where the Lancers were forming up. It was a thrilling sight: six hundred men and their horses, lance points sparkling in the morning sun, the regimental flag blowing the in the breeze.

“There they are, sir,” said one of the staff officers, pointing.

Coming down the long slope was a group of horsemen. As the ensign had said, there couldn’t be more than thirty of them. The officers all took out their binoculars. “What’s that they’re carrying?” asked Vormallus after a moment.

“Not a white flag…” said another.

“I’ll be damned,” hissed the Colonel.

“What is it?” asked Piotr. The Colonel looked at him and handed him his binoculars. Piotr took them and looked through. The party seemed much closer now. The man in the lead was wearing green and next to him a man held a long pole from which a flag flew. It, too, was green and in its center there was a large yellow rose. Piotr lowered the binoculars and looked at the Colonel.

“The flag of the Vorstakofs, my lord. I last saw it when I was an ensign at the Battle of Neshaminy.” He turned to look at Arkadi. “I don’t think he’s coming to surrender.”

“Apparently not.”

“But he only has thirty men!” protested Piotr.

“Well, there are forms to be followed, “ sighed Vormallus. “Lieutenant, send a troop forward to see if they’ll parlay.”

“Yes sir!”

A few moments later twenty lancers started forward, but they hadn’t gone a hundred yard before there was a single shot from the approaching horsemen, who were now about five hundred yards away. The lancers halted, and then returned to their place in the line.

Vormallus sighed again and shook his head. “Major, take the right wing, column of squadrons, and… and do what has to be done.”

The major saluted crisply, but his face was set like stone. He turned his horse and shouted an order and then a bugle rang out. The right half of the regiment moved forward and then split into two groups, one group sliding in behind the other.

“What… what’s happening?” demanded Sheela.

“Vorstakoff won’t surrender,” said Arkadi quietly.

“So he’s attacking six hundred men with thirty?”

“Yes.”

“Madness!”

Arkadi didn’t answer her.

The Lancers moved forward at a trot and Vorstakof’s band came right at them. At two hundred yards there was a horn call from Vorstakof, immediately matched by a bugle call from the Lancers. Both groups broke into a gallop and the distance closed very quickly. The Lancers blocked Piotr’s view and all he could see of the enemy was the green and yellow flag. The lances came down and an instant later there was a shout and a distant crash. The flag disappeared. It looked to Piotr as if perhaps a few of Vorstakof’s men had broken through the first squadron, but nothing broke through the second.

The Lancers milled about for a bit and then the bugle sounded the rally and they quickly reformed their ranks. “I suppose I should go forward and see,” said the Colonel heavily. “I’ll be back shortly, my lord.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Piotr.

“My lord…” began Arkadi.

“I must bear witness for the Count, my father—and for the Emperor.”

“I… very well.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Sheela.

“My lady! I don’t…”

“I’m coming, too.” The look on her face brooked no argument.

So they all rode slowly forward. As they got closer they could see the bodies scattered on the ground. Only a couple of horses had gone down. There were a few Lancers among the bodies, but only a few. Several more men were wounded. The officers were all drawn to one green-clad figure. It was Vorstakof. His sword was in his hand and there was a broken-off lance in his chest. He was very dead.

“I don’t understand,” said Piotr. “Why’d he do this?”

“Honor demanded it,” said Vormallus.

“But he’s dead! He got all his men killed! What was the point?”

“Honor…”

“But he could have kept fighting! Up in the mountains! He could have held out for a long, long time! Why’d he just give up like this?”

“I guess he didn’t want to fight a war like that,” said Arkadi.

Piotr shook his head. “If I’m ever in a war I’ll never give up! Never!”

“No, my lord, I don’t suppose you will.” Arkadi smiled and gave him a wink.

Well!” said Colonel Vormallus. “Now that this sorry business is finished, we can get you home, my lord.”

“I think everyone would like to get home, Colonel,” said Arkadi.

“Amen to that,” whispered Lady Sheela.

Chapter 13

“Congratulations, armsman.”

Arkadi turned and smiled as he saw Sheela coming up to him.  He bowed. “Thank you Lady Vorlahn. And may I congratulate you, as well?”

“Why? Because of this ‘Vor’ the Emperor has placed in front of my name? It’s just three letters! You got a real medal!” She laughed and pointed to the decoration pinned to his best brown and silver Vokosigan House uniform. They were in the Emperor’s palace and, amazingly, alone for a moment in an afternoon of ceremonies that had packed the place with guests and servants.

“Most men would trade a hundred medals for those three letters, my lady. Medals get given out all the time, but commoners are made Vor very, very rarely. And for a woman to made Vor, well!”

She laughed again. “Well, we both know that the only reason he did it was because I’m leaving tomorrow. He won’t have to put up with an uppity Vor woman for long.” Looking at her he had to admit that she certainly looked the Vor woman at the moment. Countess Vorkosigan had pulled out all the stops to outfit the woman who had saved her son. She’s beautiful…

But Arkadi’s good spirits faded. “So you are leaving?” The idea made him very… sad.

“I have to! I have so much going on I have to attend to. I was gone far longer on this voyage than I ever intended to already. My friends and family are probably very worried about me.”

“’Friends and family’? A husband? Lovers?” She’d never mentioned a thing about her life back on Komarr. “How many children had you produced in those bizarre tanks of yours?”

“None, none and none, armsman. But I do have parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and a brother. Plus a few friends. And duties and responsibilities.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look! What would you say if I asked you to get aboard the shuttle and come back to Komarr with me?”

“Do you want to ask me?”

The question clearly took her by surprise. Her face turned pink and she snorted. “Would you come if I did?”

“You know I can’t. I have my duties.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, trying and failing to do an imitation of his voice. They frowned at each other for a moment and then she smiled and so did he. “I will miss you, though.”

He nodded, but didn’t trust himself to say what he was feeling. Instead he asked: “Will you ever come back?”

“I hope I’m able to. Once we get home, back to Komarr, and report the new wormhole route there should be a steady stream of ships coming and going. I’ll try to come back to visit if I can.”

“Just to visit?”

Sheela’s eyes dropped, but before she could give an answer, their moment of privacy ended.

“Arkadi! There you are!” They turned and there was Piotr, his father, the Count, his mother and several others from the household, including Professor Vorserran, who had recovered nicely from his injury on the train, although he still had a bruise on his forehead. The throng converged on them and there were many congratulations given and received. The defeat of Vorstakof’s rebellion had called for an official day of celebration and the Emperor’s Thanks had been bestowed on quite a few people that day.

“Armsman Kurzov,” said the Count suddenly and his face had grown stern.”In spite of the fact that you are now a Hero of the Empire,” he nodded at Arkadi’s new medal, “There is still a serious matter that remains between us.”

“My lord?”

“Even though things turned out well in the end, the fact remains that you deserted your post, convinced or tricked other armsmen to desert their posts, and embarked on an expedition you had been specifically ordered not to undertake. That sort of reckless insubordination cannot be excused. Therefore, I have no choice but to dismiss you from my service.”

Arkadi was frozen in shock. He distantly heard Sheela gasp. Dismissed? Kicked out? But… but… what would he do now? But wait, Piotr was trying and failing to suppress a grin and the Countess was hiding her mouth behind her hand… was this some sort of joke?

“However,” continued the Count, and it seemed now like even he was trying not to smile, “considering the reason you did all those things, and after receiving permission from the Emperor, I have decided to make you my son’s personal armsman, sworn directly to him, instead of to me.”

“Bravo!” exclaimed Vorserran and Piotr gave a very undignified yippee! and stepped forward to hug him. Everyone else was smiling now and he heard Sheela give a delighted squeal from beside him. He’d never been so relieved in his life. His arms instinctively closed around the boy.

“Assuming this meets with your approval, of course,” smirked the Count.

“Yes, my lord,” Arkadi managed to choke out. “But won’t that leave you with only nineteen armsmen, my lord?”

“No, as I said, I consulted with the Emperor and he has seen fit to grant Piotr—due to his important role in suppressing Vorstakof’s treason—the reward of having his own armsman. I will still have the right to my own twenty. Of course, when Piotr inherits the countship—many years hence, we can hope—he will have to figure out how to reduce the number back to twenty—the first of his weighty decisions.”

“That’s wonderful, my lord. And thank you, thank you very much.”

“No, thank you. This does not even begin to repay the debt I owe you—that I owe both of you, for you also saved my son, Lady Sheela.” He bowed to both of them. Sheela turned a bright pink and gave an awkward curtsey.

“Of course it doesn’t become official until you actually swear the oaths and all,” continued Vorkosigan. “We will do that back at Vorkosigan House tomorrow. So, for the time being, you are still under my command, Armsman Kurzov. And my last order to you is… take the rest of the day off!”

* * *

Seeing the look on Arkadi’s face made Sheela smile broadly. That had been a terrible trick the Count had played on him, but she supposed the result made it worthwhile. The thought suddenly struck her that that also summed up her journey to reach this spot: A series of rather terrible tricks, but a worthwhile result in the end.

Or at least I hope it is.

The Count and the other well-wishers finally moved off, leaving her alone with Arkadi again. Well, not exactly alone. There were more people in the broad hallway outside the Emperor’s audience chamber now. After conferring her Vorship—was that a word?—and Arkadi’s medal, there had been a number of other official pronouncements and awards. The military campaign, though brief, had seen a few heroic acts that called for medals and promotions. Young Ensign Vorklaus had been given a posthumous promotion—for all the good it had done him—and  Colonel Vormallus a medal of some sort. And Count Vorstakof’s district had been bestowed on a close political ally of the Emperor’s even though Vorstakof’s son was still unaccounted for. She wondered what sort of future trouble that might end up causing.

She and Arkadi had managed to escape from a lot of the pomp and circumstance, but now, apparently, it was finished and the audience chamber was slowly emptying. A number of people—total strangers to her—gave their congratulations as they passed. She nodded and smiled like an idiot. She and Arkadi stood there, awkwardly smiling at each other, too. “Uh, you said there would be music and dancing later,” she finally blurted out. “Where will that be happening?”

“Oh! Yes, in the ballroom. That’s over this way, I’ll take you.” After a moment of hesitation, he offered her his arm and she lightly placed her hand on it as she’d seen other ladies do with their escorts and they started down the hallway.

“Your knee doesn’t seem to be bothering you, my lady,” said Arkdai after a moment. “Your medical machines are amazing. An injury like that would have kept most people on crutches for a month or more.”

Yes, a quick trip back to the ship once they’d been delivered by train to Vorbarr Sultana, had taken care of her injuries. A few hours in the autodoc and a few days rest and her cuts, bruises and damaged knee were all taken care of. “I hope that now that the rebellion threat is past, your Emperor will see fit to spend some money on equipment like that for Barrayar and to train people to use it.”

“I’m still amazed that Hugh Lutman is alive. A belly wound like he got at the bridge is almost always fatal, and yet a short stay on your ship and he’s almost well! And one less thing on my conscience, too.”

“The men killed on the rescue mission died trying to save the Count’s son, Arkadi, not for you. Do their lives weigh on your soul?”

The armsman shrugged. “When you’re in command you bear some responsibility for all the men following you. You can’t help but ask: what if I’d done this instead of that? What if I’d come up with a better plan, or executed the plan better? It makes no sense, but there’s no escaping it either.”

“I suppose Vorstakof must have been thinking those same things when he made that last mad charge.”

“Belike.”

They walked in silence for a moment and then came to the huge double-doors leading into the Emperor’s ballroom. It really was a stunning place: tall polished stone columns, glittering chandeliers, inlaid wood floors, lots and lots of gaudily-clad guests and servants. As promised, a live group of players was providing music. Sheela listened for a moment and frowned. The music sounded familiar, but not quite. Classical, almost Baroque—but different. A sudden realization dawned on her.

“You must compose all your own music!” she exclaimed.

“Not me,” said Arkadi.

“I didn’t mean you personally! But Barrayarans!”

“Who else?”

Sheela reined in her exasperation. “What I mean is that when the supernova’s radiation fried all of the colonists’ electronics then any stored music would have been lost with everything else. The colonists would have remembered it, but have not had any real way to preserve it or pass it on except by singing or humming. When things settled down enough for people to have time to make music again, all they would have had to go on would have been those ‘traditional folk tunes’! Fascinating!”

“I didn’t know you had such an interest in music, my lady.”

“Just a hobby, but come on, I want to see some of those instruments close up!” They made their way through the crowd to get close to the musicians. Their instruments, like the music they were producing, were strangely familiar, but different. But the music, itself was wonderful. Sheela noticed that many people were out on the floor dancing now. She watched them for a while, too, glancing at Arkadi from time to time. She dropped a few hints, but he did not pick them up. Finally, she just up and asked him: “Armsman? Would you dance with me?”

Arkadi looked incredibly flustered and Sheela almost laughed out loud at the expression on his face. “I…uh… it wouldn’t really be proper, my lady,” he managed to stammer.

“And why not?”

“Well, now that you’re a Vor…”

“Arkadi Kurzov! If you mean to say that you won’t dance with me because of that silly Vor-thing then I’m going to march right over to Emperor Dorca and give the damn thing back to him!” There had been servants circulating with glasses of wine and she’d had a few and was feeling marvelously reckless.

Now Arkadi looked like he was going to pass out. “Do I have to make a scene?” she asked.

And so they ended up out on the dance floor together. The dances themselves were simple enough—for the most part, there were a few they sat out—and they managed to make it around without embarrassing themselves. Once he got over his initial reluctance Arkadi was a fine partner and he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. Sheela was certainly enjoying herself. She noticed that Ian and Danno, who had both insisted on attending the ceremonies, were having no problem in finding dance partners either. Mr. Weitzl was here somewhere, too, but Sheela hadn’t seen him in hours. Tam had refused to come down from his ship. Well, his loss.

“I take it that this business of making you Piotr’s armsman isn’t something that happens very often,” she said while they danced.

“I can’t recall of anything quite like it before, my lady.”

“But you are pleased?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“You really love the little imp, don’t you?”

“He’ll be a great man someday.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I do.” Arkadi looked away as if the admission that he had feelings was embarrassing.

“There’s no doubt he loves you in return. Does… does that ever cause any problems between you and the Count?”

Now Arkadi looked troubled. “I don’t think… well, I don’t know, really. Of course it’s nothing unusual with the high Vor. They have so many duties, so many responsibilities, that family often has to come second.”

“Yes,” said Sheela. “Look, there’s Count Vorkosigan with the Emperor, plotting something new, no doubt, while the Countess is left abandoned. But I suppose it’s the same with ‘great men’ everywhere.” She sighed. “I guess Piotr can count himself fortunate to have a guardian like you.”

They continued to dance and Sheela fended off other men trying to cut in on her. She realized that she was flirting with Arkadi, well, more than flirting. And it felt good. She hadn’t done any serious flirting since she was an undergraduate—and certainly never in a setting like this! Ages ago—nearly two weeks now—she’d wondered if she was secretly a romantic at heart. Apparently she was.

Arkadi really was a handsome man, brave, courteous… and he came to find me. The terrifying moments with Vorfallon would trouble her dreams for years she was sure. But as long as the dreams ended with her cuddled against Arkadi on his horse and him stroking her hair and whispering that everything was fine now, she could live with that.

As the evening wore on she murmured in Arkadi’s ear: “I have a room all to myself here in the palace, you know. And you have the night off.”

Arkadi was startled. “Are you serious?”

“Why not? And don’t you dare say a word about me being Vor and it not being proper! I’m a woman and you’re a man and I’m leaving tomorrow!” And who knows if I’ll ever be back.

He didn’t say yes right away, but he didn’t say no, either. They danced one more time and then wandered out into the gardens. It was getting a bit chilly and Arkadi wrapped an arm around her. It felt very nice.

“I was married once…” he started to say.

“I know. And I know how it turned out. I’m very sorry.”

He looked at her, amazed. “How did you…?”

“Piotr told me after… after what happened in the village. Don’t ask me how he knew.”

Arkadi was silent for a long time. But he didn’t let go of her. “After… after what happened, the child was a mutie, you see, after that I swore I’d never cause that to happen to a woman again. Men almost always blame the woman, but I knew it wasn’t her fault.”

“Well, there’s no worry about that with me. I can’t get pregnant unless I want to.”

Arkadi fell silent again, but he continued to hold her. She gently steered him back into the palace and then up a set of stairs.

“Come, my gallant armsman, this damsel is in need of rescue again.”

* * *

Piotr watched the aliens getting their shuttle ready to depart. He was still sad that he hadn’t gotten a chance to ride in it. Well, they—or others—would be coming here again. Perhaps he’d get a chance then.

Don’t be greedy! You have your very own armsman!

They had done the oath-taking that morning in Vorkosigan House. It was official now: Arkadi Kurzov was now his sworn liegeman. And he was his sworn lord. A very serious and grown-up responsibility! Of course he wasn’t supposed to go around boasting about it. Apparently the Emperor didn’t want this sort of thing happening a lot. He guessed he could understand why.

He glanced at his new armsman. Arkadi had seemed unusually bleary-eyed that morning and was acting very somber now. Of course he felt sad himself that Lady Sheela was leaving today. He was very fond of her and it was apparent that Arkadi was, too. Well, hopefully she would be back soon.

And they could write to her! Sheela had spent the day before yesterday showing him how to use one of those amazing computer pads. She had given him one as a gift and the number of things it could do were amazing. And once there was a regular stream of ships going back and forth between Barrayar and Komarr it would be possible to send messages. The changes that the aliens had brought was just a beginning.

There was a stir in the watching crowd as the Emperor emerged from the palace along with the aliens and a host of other people. There was a great deal of hand-shaking and speechifying, but eventually the aliens started to board their vessel. But Lady Sheela searched the crowd and eventually spotted Piotr and Arkadi and came over to them. She was trying to smile, but there were tears in her eyes. She bent over and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “You be a good boy and listen to your parents and Arkadi!”

“I will. When will you be coming back?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try to come and visit if I can.”

Piotr found himself choking up, too. “Safe trip home, Lady Sheela. I’ll write to you.”

She smiled and nodded and then faced Arkadi. “I have to go now,” she said in a whisper.

“I know. Good luck,” replied Arkadi. His face looked very stern.

The tears spilled out of her eyes now and she leaned forward and kissed Arkadi. On the lips. Then she spun away and walked very quickly to her ship. She got aboard without looking back. After a short wait the shuttle began to give off that horrible shriek that it made. The Emperor’s armsmen herded him and his party farther away and many of the other people also stepped back. But Piotr and Arkadi held their ground. Then there was a spray of dust from underneath and the vessel rose up into the air. Many of the watchers had never seen this before and there was a considerable outcry.

But the shuttle rapidly dwindled until it was just a bright speck in the sky and this quickly vanished, too.

Piotr watched for quite a while after there was anything to watch. He glanced at Arkadi but the man hadn’t moved at all.

“Are you in love with Lady Sheela?” asked Piotr.

Arkadi didn’t answer—but there was a gleam of tears in his eyes, too.

Chapter 14

“Doctor Lahn? Doctor Lahn!

Sheela turned at the shout and saw one of her students trying to overtake her through the crowded corridors of Solstice University. She stopped and waited until he caught up. “Hello Jerrold. What can I do for you?”

“Great lecture today, Doctor!” gasped the boy. “I was… I was wondering if I could get you to autograph a copy of your book?” He held out a computer pad with the title page of her book The Rediscovery of Barrayar, on the screen. She smiled and took the pad and the proffered stylus and signed her name.

“Thank you, Doctor!”

“You’re welcome. But if you really wanted to butter me up you should have asked me to sign your textbook.”

The boy blushed. “Well, I wanted you to sign something I might actually read.”

Sheela laughed. “All right! Extra points for honesty!” The boy thanked her again and hurried away. By this time most of the crowd had dispersed and Sheela walked back to her office. She was done for the day. The fame from the successful trip to Barrayar had not only restored (or made) her reputation, but gotten her a teaching and research position at Solstice University—and a very nice office. Most of her work was in astrophysics, but she also taught one xenosociology class about Barrayar. It was an undergraduate course that her colleagues had dubbed: ‘Sheela’s Adventures on Barrayar’ which it very nearly was, she supposed. No matter, it was fun.

She sat down at her comconsoles and took care of some routine administrative matters. One personal message caught her attention. Ah, her quarterly payment statement. In spite of Mr. Weitzl’s gloomy forecasts, there was money being made off the new wormhole route to Barrayar. Not the huge sums that might have been made from a rediscovered route to Escobar (which a different exploration company had just opened up last month—much to Tam Hodgkin’s annoyance) but still a sizeable amount. Sheela’s five percent share of that came to a respectable payment. Added to her normal salary she was doing very well. And the payments would only get bigger as time went by and more and more trade with Barrayar occurred.

One notation on the statement caught her eye: Payment #012. Twelve payments? It’s been three years already? How did the time fly by so fast? It didn’t seem possible. She sighed and called up some of the messages she’d gotten from Piotr and Arkadi. Message service to and from Barrayar was somewhat erratic with waits from weeks to months depending on shipping schedules, but the messages did get through eventually. She noted sadly that even though the service was getting quicker and more reliable, the number of messages between her and her friends had been steadily declining. The last one from Piotr contained a picture and she was amazed at how the boy had grown.

I really ought to plan a visit. Maybe after the end of this semester. I can afford it.

She closed down her comconsoles and left the building. As she often did she spent some time in the University’s gardens. They were nice and they did have some mature trees soaring up toward the barely visible dome overhead. This place, along with a few of the other large parks in the city, were the only places she really felt comfortable anymore. It was absurd to think of a native Komarran being claustrophobic, but there it was. She wanted to see forests and mountains again! Komarr did have a few regions that almost qualified as mountains. But there were no forests—and wouldn’t be for three hundred more years.

Yes. Yes, at the end of the semester I’ll go!

Feeling a bit better at her resolution she made her way home on foot. The bubble car system made her uncomfortable, too. She ate a solitary dinner and then sat down at her home comconsole and began to plan out her trip. There was no scheduled passenger service to Barrayara yet, but it was often possible to book passage on a cargo ship.

She had barely started when there was an incoming message. Her eyes widened when she saw it was from Mr. Weitzl. What the hell did he want? Only one way to find out. She hit the accept key and the little man appeared on her screen.

“Ah, Doctor Lahn, I was hoping to find you home,” he said. “I hope you are well?”

“Yes, fine. And you?”

“Quite well, thank you. But I don’t want to waste your time, so I will come right to the point: would you be interested in selling your share of the Barrayar wormhole fees? I can make you quite a handsome offer.”

“Uh…”

“It’s a very generous offer.” He named a sum and Sheela’s eyes got wide. Doing some quick math in her head she saw that it was two or three times the estimated return on her share for the rest of her life—even if she lived quite a long time.

“But… why?”

“Well, it’s business, you know,” replied Weitzl in an offhand fashion. “These things happen. An investor thinks he sees a way to increase the return, wants to get into the game and is willing to pay. But these things are always risky, as likely to turn a loss as a profit. But for you it is a huge opportunity, Doctor Lahn. A sum like this could be reinvested and set you up for life.”

“Yes, I guess it could!”

“So are you interested?” The man looked very eager.

“I… I’ll have to think this over.”

Weitzl frowned. “I was hoping for an answer today.”

“I’m not sure I can give you one today, Mr. Weitzl.”

“The man I represent is very eager to proceed. And there are other people he can make this offer to.”

“Be that as it may, I want to sleep on this. Can you call me back tomorrow?”

Weitzl did not look happy and he tried to change her mind for several minutes, but she stood her ground. “Very well, Doctor Lahn, I will call again tomorrow—assuming no deal is reached with anyone else.” He clicked off and the screen went blank.

Well isn’t that peculiar?

She called up a business news site and did several searches, but she couldn’t find anything that would account for some sudden increase in the value of her share. And clearly Weitzl—or whoever he was representing—thought that share was going to become much more valuable.

Not that it really mattered, she supposed. Money had never meant all that much to her and she was already very comfortable. If she took his offer she would be more than comfortable. What would she do with all that money? Reinvest it? In what?

How about Barrayar?

Going back to the information net she called up as much information as she could about what was going on with Barrayar as far as trade and investment were concerned. She saw that quite a lot of weapons were being purchased by the Emperor. Some basic technologies, too, computers, industrial equipment. What about medical equipment? She still had nightmares about that poor baby girl. Was anything being done to improve Barrayar’s medical technology? Not much that she could see. An idea started taking shape in the back of her head.

What if she took Weitzl’s offer and then used the money to set up a hospital on Barrayar? A real hospital? Perhaps with a small medical school as part of it? Yes! She started getting excited.

But what is Weitzl really up to?

The thought intruded on her planning. She dithered for a bit, got herself a cup of tea, and then sat back down and did a person-search on the information net. She quickly found that Tam Hodgkins was off-planet, as was Danno. Not surprising about Danno: jump pilots have to jump. But wait, Ian Cummings was on Komarr. She placed a call and he answered.

“Sheela!” he exclaimed. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Really? Why? Did the Weasel call you, too?”

Ian looked surprised and then nodded. “Just got off the com with him. Was he trying to buy your share, too?”

“Yes. I stalled him. What about you?”

“Well, it is a hell of an offer. I could buy my own ship for that much! But no, I figured he must be up to something, so I put him off, too. Is that why you called?”

“Yeah. Something seems odd about this. I was wondering if you had any idea what was going on.”

“Not a clue,” said the engineer, shaking his head. “But it’s got to have some sort of business angle. I’ve got a cousin in the Senate’s Commerce Department. Maybe I’ll give him a call and see what he knows.”

“All right. If you find anything out let me know, okay?”

“Will do. And it’s good to see you again, my lady.” He grinned.

“Good to see you, too, Ian. Talk to you later.”

Nothing happened for the next several days except for frequent calls from Weitzl. He really wanted her share. And the more he wanted it, the more she was determined to find out why. At the same time she continued to make plans for what to do with all that money if she did finally accept his offer. She contacted the University medical school and various hospitals and clinics to see if there was any interest in a hospital on Barrayar. Results were lukewarm, but that was to be expected with a new idea like this. And her research was teaching her a lot about portable medical gear.

Five days after she’d talked with Ian, she got a call back. The man seemed furious. “Well!” he began without preamble, “I think I know what the little rat is up to!”

“Really? What?”

“You know how he was constantly bitching and whining about what small potatoes the Barrayaran run was going to be?”

“Yeah…”

“He was looking for some huge payoff all at once instead of a steady return like what we’ve got. Well, it looks like he—or someone, I’m not sure who’s really behind this—has figured out a way to do that!”

“What?” snorted Sheela, “Did he find some sucker willing to buy the whole planet?”

She’d meant it as a joke, but Ian wasn’t smiling. “In a way, that’s exactly what he did, yeah.”

“What? Who? How?”

“The Cetagandans.”

Oh… My… God… A shudder went through her. The Cetagandan Empire was the largest and most powerful political entity in the wormhole nexus. They had a bizarrely structured social and political system with a genetically engineered ruling glass called the haut and a military sub-caste known as the ghem. How it all worked was a mystery to the rest of the galaxy, but one thing was abundantly clear: from time to time the Cetagandans went into conquest mode and unleashed the ghem against some target. Komarr was uncomfortably close to the Empire and had been forced to play a delicate game with them for centuries to maintain their independence.

“But… but the Cetagandans can only get to Barrayar by way of Komarr!” she protested. “How could the Senate allow that?”

“Well, that’s the real trick, isn’t it?” said Ian. “I got this from my cousin. There’s a sub-committee in the Senate debating the issue right now. It’s all top secret, of course. The rumor is that the deal—if one can be made—would involve passage of a Cetagandan invasion force in return for massive trade concessions throughout the whole Cetagandan empire. The total value of a deal like this could be in the trillions. And that stinking Weasel thinks he can swindle us out of our share!”

Sheela looked at Ian in shock. He wasn’t pissed off about selling out the Barrayarans, he was pissed off about losing a chunk of the profits! And she thought she knew the man…

“So, my advice to you, girl, is to hang onto those shares! My cousin thinks that the negotiations over this might take years. Even if you do decide to sell, wait for a bit and soak the bastard good! Me, I’m holding on to mine!”

She was scarcely listening anymore. An invasion. An invasion of Barrayar. A fleet of modern warships in orbit, raining down fire on defenseless targets, hundreds of thousands of assault troops dropping out of the sky to vaporize the imperial armies, still mostly armed with gunpowder rifles and cannons. She remembered the vids of all those weapons she’d shown the Barrayarans, but the weapons would be in the hands of the invaders. And the Vor, the Vor wouldn’t surrender. They’d fight. Just like Vorstakof. A hundred suicide charges. They’d throw themselves with swords against men in power armor. They’d fight and they’d die. The Emperor, Count Vorkosigan, Piotr. They’d all die.

And Arkadi would die at Piotr’s side…

“Sheela? Sheela?” With a start she realized that Ian was still on the com. “You okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. Thanks for the information Ian.”

“I’m gonna call up all the other people who were on the old Fool and warn them, too, See you later.” He cut the connection.

Sheela sat and looked at the blank screen for a long time.

What could she do? What should she do? Warn them, of course. Warn the Barrayarans. Warn Arkadi and Piotr. But how? She could send them a message, but if this really was in the works, messages to and from Barrayar were probably already being monitored. And even if she could get something through would it do any good? Would it even be believed? Barrayar did have an embassy on Komarr now but she was sure that it was totally bugged and their communications intercepted. After all, these stupid barbarians wouldn’t know about such things, would they?

She stood up and stalked around her apartment, working herself into a rage. How could they? How could her countrymen do such a thing? The Barrayarans needed help! Not an invasion! But it was just business, wasn’t it? Business! She remembered her first day on Barrayar and Arkadi’s disdain at Komarrans’ seeming lack of honor.

He was right. We don’t have any honor.

She had to do something. But what? She sat down and tried to think.

She was still thinking the next day. And the next and the next.

Slowly ideas began to arise. She did research and the ideas gradually became plans. She forced herself not to rush into anything. Ian had said the negotiations could take years. And her research taught her that the Cetagandans planned for the long haul. The invasion—if it happened—might not come for twenty years. She had time. She hoped.

The semester ended and she applied for a sabbatical. It was approved, although with some reluctance on the part of the University. She’d only been there for three years, after all.

Weitzl continued to badger her and after dropping some hints that she knew he was up to something, she managed to get him to nearly double his offer and she took it. She’d need the cash and she wanted nothing more to do with the man or his blood scheme.

She told no one what she was up to. Technically she supposed what she was doing was treason. Or perhaps unethical business practices which was nearly as bad on Komarr. Finally she was ready. She made a call to an old friend.

“Hello, Danno.” The jump pilot looked surprised but delighted on the comconsoles screen.

“Sheela! How are you girl? Long time, no see!”

“Well, who’s fault is that?” she said. “You’re always outsystem!”

“True, but I’m back for a few months. How have you been?”

“Fine,” she lied. “How about you?”

“Good, good. Been doing a lot of interesting jumps, getting to new places. But I’m guessing that you called for something more than to chit-chat. What’s up?”

“I know you’ve got a lot of contacts in the shipping industry, Danno. I need to ship me and some cargo somewhere and I’d rather do it… well, quietly.”

Danno’s eyes got large. “Where?”

Sheela smiled.

* * *

“Come on Arkadi! Let’s get going!” Piotr called to his armsman from atop his horse. The man emerged from the stables leading his own horse.

“What’s the rush? You’ve still got a month until you report to your regiment. Plenty of time for riding and hiking and camping—not that you won’t get your fill of that with your regiment!”

Piotr grinned. He’d be fourteen at the end of the summer and then he’d be reporting to the Emperor’s Own Lancers as a new ensign! He could hardly wait! The letter he’d gotten from their new colonel indicated that he was already considered a veteran due to his presence with them during Vorstakof’s treason. How grand!

But today’s ride had nothing to do with that. Today was going to be special. “I have a surprise for you, Arkadi,” he said. “And we mustn’t be late!”

“A surprise? What sort of surprise?” asked Arkadi as he swung up into the saddle.

“You’ll see.”

“Great. What are you up to now?”

“You’ll see!”

They rode out from Vorkosigan Surleau and headed down the shores of the Long Lake. It was a beautiful summer day and Piotr’s spirits only grew more buoyant as he imagined the scene ahead. Oh! This was going to be wonderful! He spurred his horse into a trot and Arkadi complained as they bounced along.

“Spare my old bones!”

“You are not old! Stop using that as an excuse!”

“I’m older than you and always will be. Show some respect for my gray hairs.”

“I’ve always respected each and every one of them.”

“As well you should, considering you gave me most of them.”

Piotr just laughed and broke into a gallop for a bit on a long level stretch of shoreline. He reined in as he reached their destination, a wide open area in the woods that lined the lake. They often used it as a picnic spot. He pulled out his computer pad and checked the time. Perfect! He dismounted and led his horse to the tree line and tied it there. Arkadi did the same, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What’s this all about? We didn’t bring a lunch.”

“You’ll see.”

“You keep saying that! I’ll see what?”

“That!” said Piotr pointing skyward. Arkadi looked up and gasped. A silvery speck had appeared in the sky and it was growing larger rapidly. Unlike the first shuttle to ever land at Vorkosigan Surleau, this one was nearly silent. There was a bit of a hum, but that was all. It dropped straight down at what seemed a frightening rate, but then abruptly slowed and landed gently as a feather fifty yards in front of them. He glanced at Arkadi and his mouth was hanging open. But his hand was on his revolver.

“It’s all right, Arkadi,” said Piotr. “There’s no danger.” He started forward and his armsman followed, still gaping.

The door on the side of the machine was swinging open. A figure stepped out.

“Sheela!” hissed Arkadi.

“Sure is!” chortled Piotr. “Surprised?”

Lady Sheela had a large smile on her face but suddenly she was running forward and so was Arkadi and they collided with a thud he could hear. Their arms were around each other and they were locked in a kiss. Piotr walked up next to them with a huge grin.

After quite a while they pulled apart, both their faces were flushed.

“Welcome to Barrayar, Lady Vorlahn,” he said, making a bow. “You do remember me, don’t you?”

“Piotr!” she cried in delight. “My God, look how you’ve grown!” Arkadi released her and she gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. She didn’t need to bend down at all.

“But… but… what are you doing here?” stammered Arkadi, looking totally gobsmacked.

Lady Sheela’s expression became more serious. “It’s a long story. But first, could you help me unload my stuff? The shuttle is here illegally, as you must know, and doesn’t dare to stay grounded long.”

“Yes, all incoming shuttles have to land at Vorbarr Sultana, how did you…?”

“Explanations later. Help me with this stuff,” commanded Sheela.

“Yes, milady.”

A larger hatch was swinging open on the side of the shuttle and there was a compartment filled with boxes. All three of them started hauling them out. Sheela had several amazing little things that floated in the air and were like wagons without wheels. The larger crates were already stacked on them and they just towed them out like a boat on water! Finally they had them all out and only moments later the shuttle took off and was quickly gone.

“So what is all this stuff?” asked Arkadi. “Your luggage? Are you going to stay?”

“I think I will be staying, yes,” she said with a smile. The smile on Arkadi’s face was unbelievable. Piotr’s own face was starting to ache with all the smiling he’d been doing. “But that’s my luggage,” she said, pointing to one modest sized trunk. “The rest is equipment.”

“Equipment? What sort of equipment?” asked Arkadi.

“Medical mostly. I’ve got a couple of portable autodocs, gene scanners, automated pharmaceutical factories, uterine replicators, lots of computers, all kinds of stuff, really.”

“You, you’re planning to start a hospital or something?” asked Piotr. When he’d gotten the message from Lady Sheela she’d only said she was coming to visit and she wanted to surprise Arkadi. She’d said nothing about this!

“Well, yes, but not with this stuff,” she replied. “But this is going to be a long story. Why don’t we sit down in the shade over there and I’ll try to explain.” Her face had become much more serious, almost grim. What was the matter? They moved over near the horses and sat down. Lady Sheela was wearing Barrayaran-style clothing, he noticed. And she’d let her hair grow long.

She sat on the ground and hugged her knees up to her. Arkadi was right next to her. “Sheela, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I made a horrible mistake,” she said. “I didn’t intend to, but it’s still my fault and I hope you can forgive me.”

“What? What did you do?”

“I found the way back to Barrayar. I rediscovered your planet.”

“But… but what’s wrong with that?” asked Piotr. “I mean I guess it caused Vorstakof to do what he did, but that’s hardly your fault!”

“No, but this is worse. I’m bringing some really bad news Piotr. Worse than you can imagine.”

“What? What could be that bad?”

She bowed her head and then raised it again. “Barrayar is going to be invaded.”

“By Komarr?” snorted Arkadi. “Let them come!”

“Even a Komarran invasion would be bad enough,” she said sternly. “They… we aren’t all cowards and shopkeepers you know!” She stared at Arkadi and he dropped his eyes.

“No, of course not. Forgive me.”

“But if not Komarr, then who?” demanded Piotr.

“The Cetagandans. You might have come across them on the computer I left you, Piotr.”

“I think I might have read something… but what…?”

“They’re big. A big empire, Piotr. Eight fully populated worlds and a half dozen other lesser colonies. Billions of people. They have a big fleet and a big army and they are negotiating with Komarr for the rights to invade Barrayar. I couldn’t believe it when I found out. So I’m here to warn you.”

“We will fight them!” cried Piotr, both scared and defiant.

“When are they coming?” asked Arkadi who was scanning the skies anxiously.

“Oh, not any time soon, I don’t think,” replied Sheela. “A few years at least. These things take time. And there’s a faint possibility they might not come at all. But you have to prepare.”

“We’ll fight them!” declared Piotr again.

“I know. I know you will. But you can’t win, Piotr.  Not in a stand-up fight. There are too many of them. They are too strong. Remember Vorstakof’s last charge? It would be like that all over Barrayar.”

A chill went through him. Could that really happen? It didn’t seem possible!

“We need to get word of this to the Count, and the Emperor,” said Arkadi urgently. “I’m sure they’ll want you to come to Vorbarr Sultana right away and…”

“No.” The look on Sheela’s face was hard as stone.

“What?”

She held up a computer pad. “Everything I know about this, plus a long list of suggestions for action are on this. Get this to your father, Piotr.” She handed it to him. “But I can’t go or meet with him.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not here, Piotr. I was never here. The plans for this invasion are still secret, even on Komarr. But there are people on Komarr who know that I know this. And there are Galactics all over Vorbarr Sultana now. If word should get back that I’m here, I’m afraid that people will put two and two together and suspect that I’ve come to warn you. I don’t know what might happen then. They might speed up their plans and invade sooner—before you could prepare at all—or they might even come and try to take me back. I have to remain here in secret.”

Piotr was stunned. He’d never expected anything like this! He wished his father was here.

“So what will you do?” asked Arkadi. “What should we do?”

Sheela shook her head. “I’m no general. Honestly I don’t see how you can possibly make yourselves strong enough to defeat an invasion in the time you’ll have. But there may be some things you can do. Import more weapons. Maybe buy a few ships of your own. Prepare places of refuge with scanner scramblers so they can’t find you so easily. Stockpile supplies. Make evacuation plans. It’s all on the computer I gave you. Most importantly, make some allies. The Cetagandans are powerful and that scares a lot of people. There’s a loose alliance of worlds that tries to keep them in check. Beta Colony is the chief among them. Maybe they can help. I don’t know.”

“But what about you?” asked Arkadi. “You say you are staying? But if you want to stay secret, where will you go?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I want to help the people here. That’s why I brought all the medical gear. But this is just a part of what I’ve planned. I made quite a lot of money from discovering the way here. Not enough to buy you a fleet of battleships, unfortunately, or even one, but still quite a lot. All the gear you see here didn’t even make a dent in what I’ve got. I’ve set up a corporation back on Komarr. It will be coming here soon to build a real hospital and a medical school in Vorbarr Sultana—assuming the Emperor will give his permission, of course.”

“I can’t imagine him refusing…”

“I’m hoping that the medical school can expand to a university in time. But I’m also thinking that this corporation can become a pipeline, of sorts, for you to bring in the other things you’ll need to prepare for the invasion. Maybe a pipeline to get information out, too. As a Komarran company, the Cetagandans might let it stay in operation even after they get here.”

“Clever,” said Arkadi.

“I hope so. But as for me, well, I was thinking that I could go up into the hills, where the really poor people live and set up a clinic or two. It will only be a very small drop in a very big bucket, but I could try.”

Piotr stared in shock and consternation. “But… but you can’t go out there alone!”

“Well, I was hoping that someone might come with me.” She looked at Arkadi and then back at him. Piotr felt like someone had punched him in the belly. Tears started in his eyes. Did she really mean…?

“Ar-arkadi?” he stuttered. “Do you… do you want this?”

The look on his face told him that he wanted it very much. But also that he was as torn as Piotr felt.  “I am sworn to you, my lord. I won’t break that oath.”

“But do you want it?”

Arkadi bowed his head. “Yes my lord. And we both owe it to her.”

Piotr sprang up and turned away. No! This wasn’t what he wanted! Arkadi had been his protector for as long as he could remember. You’ll be an ensign in a month. One of the Emperor’s officers! You’ll be expected to take care of yourself. He turned back. “Would… would I still see you? From time to time?”

“I would imagine,” said Arkadi. He looked to Sheela.

“I’ll need to store all this gear here for a while at least,” she said. “And we’ll have our computers to send messages. I’m sorry, Piotr, I didn’t come here to take away your friend.”

But you are taking him away! A huge surge of anger and resentment filled him. How could she do this?

This isn’t about you. It’s about them.

His anger faded. Arkadi had served him for years and never asked for anything beyond the honor. Now, at last, he was asking for something for himself. How can you refuse him? Honor had to work both ways…

“V-very well,” he said, trying to keep control of himself. “Arkadi Kurzov, I release you from my service.” In spite of himself, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Arkadi looked like he’s been slapped. He went to his knees and bowed his head. “Thank you, my lord. But the Vorkosigans may always call on me and I will come if I can.” He rose up and took Sheela’s hand.

“Thank you, Piotr,” said Sheela. Her eyes were glistening, too. “But we need to keep this a secret. Even from your father—although I’m sure he’ll suspect. Just give him the computer and tell him that I came here, explained the situation, gave you the computer and then left again.”

“Yes my lady. I give you my name’s word that I’ll never tell a soul.”

* * *

Arkadi turned in his saddle and looked back at Vorkosigan Surleau. It looked different somehow. It’s not different, you are. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He’d spent most of his adult life serving the Vorkosigans and with hardly a second’s thought he’d given that up. And yet… and yet, he knew he’d done the right thing. He couldn’t ever remember being so sure of anything.

“What was that about Piotr’s ‘name’s word’ that he said back there?” asked Sheela. She was riding next to him and seemed at ease in the saddle.

“What? Oh, it’s an oath. He’ll die before he breaks his word. It’s a Vor thing.”

“Oh, a Vor thing!” she laughed. “All those Vor things to learn about. Except I can’t be a Vor anymore.”

“Well, you can’t be Lady Vorlahn anymore, that’s for sure. That would be too obvious.”

“So how about just plain Sheela Kurzov? How do you folks get married around here anyway?”

“It… it’s pretty simple,” replied Arkadi, feeling rather stunned. “We just need to go to a village speaker and he can do it. Do… do you want to?”

“I thought I was pretty clear, wasn’t I?” she asked smiling. “But yes, yes, I want to.”

“All right. We can take care of it when we get there.”

“There? And just where are we going?”

“Well, I was thinking that it would be a whole lot easier starting out somewhere where we aren’t complete strangers. There’s a fellow I met while I was in the army. Name’s Payne. He was older than me and is retired now. He’s got a farm up in the hills. Little village named Red Rocks. Seems like it could be a good place to start out.”

Sheela halted her horse and turned it so she could look out on the Long Lake and the setting sun. He stopped beside her. “Yes, a fresh start,” she whispered. “What a beautiful place!”

He leaned over and kissed her.

“Welcome to Barrayar.”

The End