Traitor's Moon

pointing at the new gorget.
    â€œIn name, at least. They gave me Wolf Squadron, then sent me and my turma home. You remember Sergeant Rhylin, don’t you?”
    â€œI always remember people who save my life,” Micum said, shaking hands with the tall man.
    â€œAs I recall, it was as much the other way ’round,” Rhylin replied. “You took on that dyrmagnos creature after Alec shot her. I don’t think any of us would be standing here if you hadn’t.”
    The comments drew curious stares from the bystanders and Micum quickly changed the subject.
    â€œI only count one decuria here. Where are the other two?” he asked, waving a hand at the ten riders who’d come ashore with them. He recognized Corporal Nikides and a few of the other men and women, but most were strangers, and young.
    â€œThe rest sailed with Klia. We’ll meet up with them later on,” Beka told him. “This lot should be enough to get us safely where we need to go.”
    She glanced up at the afternoon sky, frowning slightly. “It’ll take a while to ferry our horses in but I’d like to cover some ground before nightfall. Can we get a hot meal in this place before we go? One that doesn’t include salted pork or dried cod?”
    â€œI’ve had a word with the innkeeper,” he replied, giving her a wink. “I think he can come up with dried pork or salted cod.”
    â€œSo long as it’s a change,” Beka said, grinning. “How long will it take us to reach them?”
    â€œFour days. Maybe three if this good weather holds.”
    Another look of impatience creased Beka’s brow. “Three would be better.” With a last restless glance at the ship, she followed him up to the inn.
    â€œWhatever happened to that young man you wrote us of last year?” Micum asked. “That lieutenant what’s-his-name? Your mother’s beginning to get notions about him.”
    â€œMarkis?” Beka shrugged, not looking at him. “He died.”
    Just like that?
Micum thought sadly, sensing there was more to the story. Ah, well, war was a harsh business.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    The weather held fair, but the roads grew worse the further north they went. By the second day, their horses were sinking to the fetlocks as they plodded along what passed for roads in this stretch of wilderness.
    Easing his bad leg against the mud-caked stirrup, Micum scanned the jagged peaks in the distance and thought wistfully of home. Little Illia, just turned nine, had been picking daffodils in the pasture below the house the day Micum left. Here, in the shadow of the Nimra mountains, snow still lingered in dirty drifts beneath the pines.
    Beka still hadn’t explained the exact reason for their journey, and Micum respected her silence. They rode hard, making use of the lengthening days. At night, she and the others recounted battles, raids, and comrades lost. Lieutenant Markis was not mentioned around the campfire, so Micum made it his business to get Sergeant Rhylin aside one morning when they’d halted to water the horses.
    â€œAh, Markis.” Rhylin glanced around, making certain Beka was out of earshot. “They were lovers all right, when they found the time. Cut from the same cloth, too, but his luck ran out last autumn. His turma ran into an ambush. Those who weren’t killed in the fight were tortured to death.” Rhylin’s eyes got a pinched, distant look, as if he were squinting into harsh light. “A lot’s made of what they do to our woman soldiers, but I tell you, Sir Micum, the men fare just as badly. We found the remains—Markis hadn’t been among the lucky, if you take my meaning. The captain didn’t speak for two days after that, didn’t eat or sleep. It was Sergeant Mercalle who finally brought her out of it. Mercalle’s buried more than her share of kin over the years, so I guess she knew what to say. Beka’s been fine since, but she never speaks of him.”
    Micum sighed. “I don’t imagine she likes to be reminded. And there’s been no one since?”
    â€œNo one to speak of.”
    Micum had a good idea what that meant. Sometimes the body’s needs overrode the heart’s pain. Sometimes it was a way to heal.
    The road finally grew drier as it wended up into the foothills. By early afternoon of the third day, Beka could see out over the tops of the