The Marcher Lord (Over Guard) (31 page)

“Strange that the river is above everything else,” Ian said as he came alongside Will.

“Yes, the Mombosso is unique,” Will said, “it is the definite division between the Hovoloko Plains and the northern wilds.”

“What’
s all in that area?”

“The terrain is much less flat and less open,” Will said, “with the mountains continuing north and the forests crouching in closer from the east. The wildlife is fairly more dangerous, with more chance of lions and other large predators.”

“And the Chax?” Ian asked.

“Yes,” Will answered, “there are many tribes beyond here, and very few
Ellosians ever see them. Mostly only the protected envoys from Carciti, who keep diplomatic relations with them. Right now, and for some time, there has officially been peace. But it is very dangerous for Ellosians there. For, if they believe that a human is alone, many tribes would not hesitate to kill him, as no one would know if it had been them or some beast or hazard.”

“But the Mombosso,” Ian said, looking down as his boot
s increasingly fell on more and more rock mixed into the ground, “how is it above everything else?”

Will shrugged, in a mostly human fashion, but with a
slight click. “I am not sure anyone knows. It is a large branch of other rivers that run through the Quacu Mountains, and some of them are similar. There is much slate ore mixed into its rock beds, which is why it does not wear itself down very fast. Slate ore is very strong—but forgive me, the margrave is calling.”

Ian watched him go, and shortly had to head in the same direction alongside Captain Marsden, who was going through a mindful but hurried overview of their gaining of the river.

“And run your flank half a mile downstream,” the captain was saying to Lieutenant Taylor, “and I’ll run some of mine the other way. There shouldn’t be any concerns, I daresay. Not if they’ve been here for so long. That’s it, right up ahead there. The Fall Tower, as it is. That will be our base camp.” He paused. “Disgraceful, utterly disgraceful. Running off here and God knows where else in between with no protection.”

“Disgraceful indeed,” Lieutenant Taylor agreed, already in the motions of moving to take his flank down the riverside.

“Flank,” Captain Marsden said, turning to them, “secure the river for a half mile in that direction, then return to set up camp.”

“Yes, sir,” they said and snapped their heels.

As they turned to go, trotting at an easy trot, Ian glanced over to where the brisa and the rest of their charge were continuing straight for the Fall Tower, a fairly round piece of rock distinctively jutting up at an angle from near the river. But in the moment he had, he thought he caught sight of movement—figures moving near it, coming toward the brisa.

“Keep up,” Corporal Hanley called off to him.

“Right,” Ian said, frowning as he hurried after them.

“Our birth is from the sky, from where we breathe and see.
No matter what the jah do, our lives, our dreams flow from it. See it always changing, but always the same. Our life is in it, as it is in us. All the jah can never hold that.”

—
Chax shaman

The securing of the river having been done in routine order, they made their way back a bit more leisurely than they’d come. Ian experienced something akin to aggravated impatience as they threaded their way around and through the rock croppings. Rory at one point even knelt beside the river to fill his canteen.

Rory and Corporal Hanley spent some time remarking how clean the water seemed, and how wide, but especially how surprisingly deep it ran, secure in its stone cradle, and how it would be nice to spend a little bit of time in one place,
to try fishing in a place like—

Ian
almost burst with the question, and more than once. But as he reasoned, if their party had been planning on meeting anyone here, then the other men would already know about it and Ian would look foolish for asking. And if they didn’t know, that would likely mean that they weren’t actually meeting anyone. Ian tried to figure the safest way to wheedle it out of them, imagining in his mind what a critical voice that was privy to his thoughts might say. And that critical voice sounded an awful lot like Kieran’s. The voice said something along the lines of how unwise it had been to alienate nearly all of his company mates—that Ian would probably already know about this issue if he hadn’t done that.

Not all of which was his fault,
Ian argued to himself. And in half the cases it was more than justified.

Stilling himself, trying not
to look as irritated as he was, Ian hung about on the side of their group closest to camp as the others talked, reasoning that either way he’d find out soon enough.

But they finally
set off again, and after a few more minutes came within sight of the others. Their camp hosted a great deal of activity, which was half on the rocks, half off for their sleeping areas. It was difficult at first, but the closer they got, the surer Ian became that some of the people he was seeing were new.

“Hurry it up,” Lieutenant Taylor called to them, hastening their pace a bit, “there’s plenty to be done.”

As they came into the camp’s outskirts, Ian caught sight of Elizabeth Wester near one of the brisa, apparently listening to someone. He also saw that the other rangers had already returned and were nearby, unpacking their things. He caught a mildly horrified look on Kieran’s face as they approached.

“—and just how hot it really is here, it’s crazy,” a female voice was saying, evidently the one that Elizabeth was listening to with a reserved expression.
“I can’t imagine people actually live here all the time, even with regulators.”

In
a kind of meeting of ways, their group’s trajectory joined with Elizabeth’s, so that he caught sight of the person who was speaking to Elizabeth as they came around the brisa.

There was an immediate sensa
tion of color, as Ian saw a red-haired girl of a slightly taller build than Elizabeth. She was wearing a ruffled light blue dress, and as he watched her talk to Elizabeth, the manner, the expression, even the voice, different as it was, was clearly of a similar make.

“The people at Carciti were so pushy,” the girl was going on, her voice such an unexpectedly high combination of confident
enthusiasm. “I couldn’t believe how bold the beggars were, and so dirty.”

A well-
educated sense of naivety, Ian thought, so amazed was he at the suddenness of it that he felt his pace grow clumsy. And it was readily apparent in the expressions of all the others, and everything seemed to be for a moment just watching.

Elizabeth was saying something low and probably sarcastic that Ian only caught the end of, “—can’t afford to bathe more regularly.”

“It’s such a dirty city,” the other girl agreed. “I’m so glad to be out of it. But here are the others, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, looking at Ian with a pair of tired eyebrows, “they’re all here now.”

“Great,” the other girl smiled, casting a quick eye over Ian and the others before darting off to the right, “I’m going to get my bag from father.”

As she vaguely passed in front of them, a wash of trailing blue and red, Ian caught Kieran’s eye. The same question seemed to be stuttering over his as
Kieran looked after where the girl was heading, and then back to Elizabeth Wester.

Were these
people related to each other?

All of them again were snapped back to more practical matters by Lieutenant Taylor’s unfazed orders.
Some low conversation ensued as they went about their tasks. Ian noticed that Elizabeth requested Corporal Wesshire to come near her, and she gave a little smile as she talked to him about something, to which he didn’t make any overt reactions to.

Grimac
ing in the most objective inner part of his being, a moment later Elizabeth Wester hailed them all.

“All of you gentlemen might as well get together,” she observed
. “She’ll be back in a moment.”

By some remarkable degree
, they all obeyed, a testament to her air of authority, Ian thought.

True to Elizabeth’s prediction, the other girl
returned only a few moments after they had all constructed an uncertain line. Now that he could see her up close, Ian decided that he had to see some line of family resemblance between her and Elizabeth. There was the same smooth cut to both of them, but this girl lacked the sort of dazzling combination that Elizabeth exuded so easily. She was fine, Ian decided. Hers was just not nearly such a flooring variety. Her extra bit of height over Elizabeth was discernible, but Ian decided that the red-haired girl’s slight sense of lanky wasn’t a clumsy one, but was generally pleasant.

“Hello,” the girl said to them all, her face eager
as she reached in the satchel she had brought, “I’ve already met most of you. I bought Dervish chocolate in Carciti. They’re very good, and there’s enough for one for each of you—”

She started with one end, handing them each a richly decorated
, little box. Ian saw Elizabeth watching with a slight smirk.

“Oh,” the girl said when she handed Brodie his box, talking as she continued down the line, “they are a little melty. I told the man that they were supposed to be better sealed, but his Bevish wasn’t good at all, and
—”

She stopped in front of Ian as she extended his chocolate box
out to him, which he took, trying to arrange a neutral expression.

“You’re new though,” the girl said
. “I’m Madeline—Madeline Alina Wester.”

“Pleased to meet you, milady,” Ian made a quick bow, feeling awkward because—well, he had no idea how to take this girl. Was this finally one of the spoiled noble women he’d been hearing about all of his life, or—

“Pleased to meet you as well,” she said, “even though I haven’t actually met you yet since I don’t know your name.”

“Oh
—” Ian said, stumbling a bit, even as he fought to re-level his momentum, “yes, of course. My name is Ian Kanters.”

“And I am Corporal Ellis Hanley,” Ellis said from
beside him politely.

“Pleased to meet you,” Madeline continued on, reaching for Ellis’
chocolate box.

Much to Ian’s relief.
That had been particularly embarrassing. It wasn’t often that he messed up introductions, and doing so in front of important people was a habit he would like to avoid. Though that made him wonder, as he snuck a glance over at Elizabeth, just what sort of rating she would assign his introduction to her.

“Um, th
ank you,” Ian heard Rory mutter. “Private Rory Williams.”

Ian watched as Madeline Wester finished with the formal introductions and cocked her
head a little, as though trying to sum them up.

“Have you been soldiers for very long?” she asked, sounding a little dubious.

“I think the question should be whether we have been good soldiers for very long, milady,” Brodie was quick to reply, to some general and much needed laughter.

Ian did his best to return the favor—she couldn’t be much over fifteen. Now that he had felt something of a poke at him, at them all really, he let himself go a little and quickly calculated that this girl was also much less notable than Elizabeth in a few notable ways.

“Rangers and grenadiers come to our home world Gower all the time,” Madeline was going on, “mostly for the sport that my father allows them. We often see all sorts of the best generals and admirals at our home.”

Ian made careful note of where her eyes wandered as she talked. They noticed, but didn’t seem to find much
of interest in Corporal Wesshire, who was still standing near Elizabeth, but her eyes did linger for a moment on Corporal Hanley. Ian didn’t quite understand this, but he guessed that it was probably the rank. Her eyes swept over the rest of them, even him for the barest of moments, but it seemed haphazard, without any particular order to it.

“Yes, our father has many important friends,” Elizabeth said, in a mildly downplaying tone.

“We’ve been here for nearly three days,” Madeline said. “Father let me go on ahead as there wasn’t any reason to stay in Portsmouth as long as I brought our servants.”

“And what are those other things, milady?” Brodie asked.
“Those animals with those exceptional lungs?”

Ian glanced over at Rory, and then around as his second
man also looked to see what Brodie was referencing.

“Those are mine,” Madeline said. “They’re called gr
ay wyverns on Gower. There are all sorts of scientific names for them though. That noise they make is how they clear out their pressure lungs.”

“They’re a terrible nuisance,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“They are not,” Madeline said. “Father said that I could bring them.”

“Only because you pestered about it for days,” Elizabeth answered.

“At least we can use them for packing,” Madeline countered, her voice rising, “since we have so much of your things to carry.”

“Oh
boy,” Ian heard Kieran mutter.

“
That’s what the brisa are for,” Elizabeth said coolly, turning toward the center of camp where they had started a fire for lunch.

“
Oh please,” Madeline huffed, starting off in roughly the opposite direction.

“Well, this ought to be fun,” Kieran said as
he, and by natural extension Brodie as well, started along after Elizabeth.

The others began to follow, with some low conversation, a little laughter as they tried to manage their chocolates. Looking down at his own chocolate box, somewhat leaky and not exactly manageable without
flatware, Ian glanced back up where Madeline Wester was disappearing among the rocks. He saw that one of their Bevish servants were waiting there, presumably watching these wyverns she was talking about.

Slowly turning back
toward their camp area with a frown, Ian couldn’t help but agree with Kieran’s summation.

*              *              *              *

Ian quickly fell to liking the Mombosso and its ever present cradle of rock outcroppings, which he learned from Will were called forges by some Ellosians. Something was calming about them, despite the regenerating miles of turmoil that the Mombosso created. For the most part, it was a wide, easy river, but in many places, at least along where they were camped, there were faster currents and occasional rapids due to the array of boulders that littered its length.

Thanks to the sort of lull their party was in for the rest of the day, Ian had an unexpected amount of free time following the setting up of camp and lunch. Will was busying advising the
margrave, and no one else available that he would want to talk to, as hard as that made his stomach pang with a soft sort of hollow. No—it wasn’t really his stomach. A little above that, his sternum he thought. That didn’t seem to make sense, as he couldn’t think of any important organs being located there.

Letting a little bit of bitterness touch his lips,
Ian focused on the side of the column-shaped boulder in front of him. He had been climbing up and off them for some time, but now he was reaching some more impressive and closely-arranged boulders that he could climb and jump over. The one that he was presently on was fairly flat, and of a median height. The one in front of him was much taller, and fairly gradual, at least on its top third. The point just below that, where he was looking to get to, wasn’t all that much of a jump away. It was the surface’s considerable angle and robust lack of good gripping points that made it worth pausing for. Mentally lining up where he wanted his hands and feet to go, he crouched at the edge, only looking down once to estimate that falling the eight feet or so between the two boulders would be uncomfortable more than dangerous. Pulling his arms back, he carefully brought them forward and gently leaped.