The Marcher Lord (Over Guard) (38 page)

“But at least
thirty sovereigns, right?” Maddy asked.

“Very likely,” Arran said.

“That’s a lot of money,” Ian said, crouching down for a closer look. “But what about this one?”

Maddy grinned, holding the pearl she had just
retrieved, her other hand tightly holding the back of her palm. “This is a real fire pearl. It didn’t look like I was going to be able to find a real one, but look at it! I’ve never seen one this bright, it must be worth at least a hundred sovereigns.”

“Possibly,” Arran said, “possibly more.”

Maddy laughed, standing up with it tightly clenched in her fist. “Just wait until Elizabeth sees it. I told her she should have come.”

Ian frowned, looking over at Corporal Wesshire, who was watching Maddy without expression.

“We need to get back to camp though,” Ian said.

“Aw,” Maddy whined as she slid the sluggish muscle back into the river, “already? But we’ve barely been here an hour.”

“I think we might be breaking camp soon,” Ian said.

“I don’t see why we can’t just stay by the river,” Maddy said, “
there’s plenty of animals around here, and it’s the best place to stay.”

“The decision is your father’s,” Ian said as he clasped his hands behind his back
.

Corporal Wesshire also stood, although not all that hurriedly.

“You’re no fun,” Maddy said, looking at her pearl in her hand again.

Ian blinked. That was awfully unfair, he
—

“
So will you divide the pearls up?” Ian said instead.

“What?” Maddy asked, looking at him again.

“Will both of you divide them up between yourselves?” Ian asked. “That would only be fair since you didn’t know about them before Corporal Wesshire told you, did you?”

“No,” Maddy said, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t be so rude, that’s none of your concern.”

“Such things are of little consequence,” Corporal Wesshire said, smiling easily, “it would be an honor if you would keep whatever you wish. It was your skill that provided them.”

“Well,” Maddy said, her expression pacified, “I only really want this one.
And not to sell either. Just to keep.”

“You may have all of them to keep,”
Corporal Wesshire said.

“No,” Maddy said, glancing at Ian, “you can have all the rest. You brought me here to them. I really do appreciate it, this was so much fun. Keep them. I want you to.”

Corporal Wesshire hesitated, and then carefully folded the other pearls into the cloth. “Very well. But only for the moment. They are yours whenever you would ask.”

“Right,” Ian said, trying not to feel like he had any right to any of them. Because he didn’t, but he couldn’t help but imagine how much even fifty sovereigns would buy for his mother. But they didn’t know about that, and couldn’t. “We better head back then.”

Maddy looked at him and then the ground, as though remembering that they did actually have to go back. “All right,” she said quietly, an unhappy look passing over her eyes. But then she saw that Ian was looking at her and re-brightened. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

Ian nodded as she started back the way they’d come. Corporal Wesshire started past him as well, but Ian motioned for him to stop for a moment.

“What is it, private?” Corporal Wesshire asked, with all the coldness that Ian thought had seemed largely absent.

“
May I ask you something?” Ian asked, more to stall a second more as he turned his back to Maddy and kept his voice low.

Corporal Wesshire shifted his head to the other side in an annoyed manner.

“You had—have all of Elizabeth Wester’s attention,” Ian said, frowning as he tried to gauge the reaction—any reaction in the other’s face, “what are you doing here with this one?”

“Your concern for such things is questionable,” Corporal Wesshire said, and Ian thought he was going to leave it at that.

Arran’s face coalesced into a hard line. “But I know a cold one when I see her.”

And with that
, Wesshire stepped smoothly around Ian and back toward camp.

Turning,
Ian saw the margrave’s daughter well ahead and Corporal Wesshire lingering after her. Ian watched them go for several long moments, frowning hard before he followed.

*              *              *              *

They broke camp just after noon and crossed the Mombosso soon after at a series of shallows a couple miles east of their camp, not far past the lake. The brisa were plenty tall to manage it once the Chax had secured all of the packs above the water, and the margrave and his daughters simply rode atop them without mishap. That left Ian’s company to wade through the river, just up to their chests, holding their rifles above their heads. It was an odd sensation, the top half of him being well exposed to Orinoco’s sun without a regulator, and his bottom half in the river. It only took a couple hours before he was as dry again as if it had never happened, and they left their camp in much the same way.

“Don’t
you know, Your Excellency? The greatest legacies are established in three generations of success. The first man begins. The next generation solidifies greatness, and in the third it becomes a light forever. In Drosica, music; in Kees, philosophy; and always in ruling dynasties. Therefore, a sovereign must have his eyes always on the future, as you well know, My Excellency.”

—Addison Neals

He had never really stopped watching Corporal Wesshire, but now there was something more personal in it. While Ian didn’t necessarily know any of the details of the corporal’s motivations, Ian had never had any problem understanding him, in harmonizing his actions with his character.

The corporal did speak twice more with Madeline Wester that Ian saw and none further with Elizabeth. The conversation, however, seemed very casual, and the corporal did not seem to pursue being alone with either daughter any further.

Be that as it may, it was still very much a problem of some considerable vexation to Ian, as it very clearly had happened, even if nothing further was to come of it. It didn’t make sense, had no apparent reasonable answer. Why would Corporal Wesshire show any interest in the younger daughter when the older one was eager for his attentions and seemingly superior in every way?

So he began to compare them whenever they were together. It was an easy task, one that Ian didn’t mind taking
on for the sake of purely academic interests. On the one hand, Madeline Wester wasn’t visually off-putting, but Elizabeth was very easily the very exact opposite of off-putting. It was easy to forget the effects of a beautiful woman when one wasn’t around one. However, when such a woman was readily at hand for observation, the effect was tangible, constant, and very pleasing. Affecting in a way that moved all the senses, the layers in a person. Perhaps it was more the way she moved, held herself than the blunter elements, but it was a pitched match between both.

Maddy was of course more lively in disposition than Elizabeth, but that also came with the caveat that she was far more
vocal with her feelings, which were usually displeased, in all of its many varieties that she was adept at manifesting.

They both were very intelligent, and while Maddy would certainly seem to always be talking about her various aptitudes, Elizabeth was far more modest with them. And for that
, Ian thought she was far more the prudent and wiser in many more respects.

Perhaps—
Ian thought, trying to be fair, as it seemed somewhat down-putting to disqualify Maddy in every category—
Maddy is on the whole friendlier.
Perhaps. Instinctively, Ian felt like Elizabeth was far more reserved, but she had generally been very friendly with them. Generous even, given the large gap between their classes. At least she had been before Maddy had come. Even at the meals now, when she had the most chance at being friendly, she had taken to being coldly drug along by Maddy, eating off alone whenever she could manage it.

They had all been warmer before Maddy had come, Ian thought.

“They are incredible though,” Ian said to Rory, at the next evening’s dinner, after another sharp, pealing whine came from the distant edge of their camp from the youngest daughter’s pets—wyverns.

“Yeah,” Rory grumbled low enough that Maddy
couldn’t hear from the other side of their fire, “I just wish they wouldn’t make so much racket. Probably scaring all the animals away.”

There was another rising whine, the upper reaches of it aching at the top of Ian’s ears. He felt similar sentiments running around their company, Kieran in particular shifting angrily.

“—whine like her,” Ian caught Kieran whispering.

“Maddy,” Lord Wester looked up at his daughter, “
would you please shut them up?”

“But father
—” Maddy said, hurriedly swallowing, “I’m not done—”

“Just do it.”

“Yes, father,” Maddy said, sounding somewhat chastened. But she quickly finished her last spoonful, plucked a piece of meat in her mouth, and skipped off to her wyverns.

Ian watched her go and waited a few uneventful minutes. The dinner conversation was in something of a lull after the long travel day, and the talk
was stubbornly on their prospects for tomorrow’s hunting. As much as Ian always liked that, it didn’t seem like there was anything new to be said.

So, finishing his own meal, he stood.

“Want to go see them?” Ian asked Rory, looking off at the clump of tassi trees where the peals had stopped.

“I’m still eating,” Rory protested.

“That’s fine,” Ian said, starting off casually in that direction. It would have been much better if he had someone to go along with him. He didn’t want people to get the impression he was hanging around near Maddy, but the wyverns were a tantalizing reason to risk it.

The wyverns
were like the brisa, only Ian’s interest in the pack animals had worn out fast as they were slow and plodding. But these were things that could fly, and fight, and even fly with people riding them, and fight while people were riding them—well, actually Ian didn’t know about that. But the point was, they easily beat out the brisa in terms of appeal.

Kicking around at the grass and dirt and
meandering a lopsided trajectory toward that particular clump of trees, Ian discovered he didn’t have a plan. He just wanted to see them.

Coming around the corner, he could hear her talking to them. At first
, it was too indistinct to tell, and the responding snoffling sounds muddled over her voice. But gradually, he deduced that she was talking about the food from supper, and that she must have given some of it to them.

“Like that, don’t you?
” Maddy was turned toward one of them, petting its muzzle. “Well you should, it’s really good meat. Better than the stuff back at our stables, isn’t it?”

Ian
stopped, his hands in his pockets and his consciousness well aware of how visible he was to the margrave’s daughter if she should happen to turn his way. She was beside the lighter of the two wyverns. The other was a darker, more mottled complexion and was a little ways off. Ian had of course caught plenty of glimpses of them since they had joined their caravan. But his assignments hadn’t really been near them, and he hadn’t previously had any reason to stare. Not that he did now either, but he couldn’t help it.

They were lizard-like creatures of some considerable length—
fifteen feet? They had tails almost as long again as the rest of their bodies and were currently resting on all fours. Ian knew though, from what little he had seen that they were more apt to stand on their hind legs, which looked much bigger and stronger than their forearms. Their heads were somewhat wide at the top with long snouts, and their wings were black and furled tightly against their backs.

Ey
eing the lighter wyvern’s foreclaws that spasmodically lengthened and retracted as Maddy ran her hand over its snout, Ian frowned and looked back toward camp. No one was looking his way, but he doubted that it hadn’t already happened or would soon. He looked back at them. He didn’t want to talk, at all, but he really wanted to talk about the wyverns.

“It’s been awfully hot today again, hasn’t it?” Maddy said to the one she was petting. “We ha
d better stretch out your wings.” She looked over at the darker one. “Hup hup, Cuppy. We’d better stretch your wings, too.”

The darker one, who presumably went by Cuppy, merely made the effort of turning its head over to look at her for a moment before turning back.

Ian found himself smiling.

“Oh, come on now, lazy bones,” Maddy protested, “hup hup, now.
Hup hup!”

She started
toward the darker wyvern, who noted this and begrudgingly yanked itself to its feet.

Ian jerked a little himself, backing away as Maddy roused the darker wyvern to a more reactive state. When he was back far enough and the wyvern
was making sufficient noise, Ian turned and briskly walked away, all the while berating himself.

That’s a cowardly thing to do,
he thought.

What
did he care what other people thought?

*              *              *              *

Ian ran in near the four horn, just enough for it to see him and turn his way before Ian leaped back. For a moment, even he thought the animal was going to pursue him, but it stopped again as the shouts from the other rangers made it look back again.

“Hold your ground, private!
” the captain shouted from across the way. “Unless you really would rather die.”

“Yes, sir,”
Ian said, not taking his eyes off the tiny, beady sort that the four horn had. It was somewhat insulting, as Ian was sure he had just kept it from charging at the captain and Corporal Hanley. But there had been a scared note in the captain’s voice, so Ian just decided to take it.

“Turn him—turn him
—” Captain Marsden was shouting.

“We’re trying,” Ian said, with much gritting of teeth as he leaned in closer to it.

Rory was to his left and a little behind him, his captain and corporal on the other end of their sloppy semicircle. In the middle, the four horn bull was angry, confused and very angry. The margrave was roughly in the center of their circle and well back and elevated on the hill where they had started, trying to line up a third shot. The first shot might have downed it, but it had moved at the last moment, and the second shot had been as likely to fail as this third one, as the tough, nearly impenetrable hide that coated the four horn’s body was further coated by large armor plates that were impenetrable for all their company’s present purposes. There were only a few vulnerable places to hit it with anything smaller than a field cannon, and really only one that was guaranteed to drop it. Right under its jaw, under the fleshy folds. Not at all unlike Rory’s well-revered shot on Ian’s long buffalo, but the trick was that they were supposed to let the margrave have it.

Captain Marsden let out a cry and jump
ed forward a bit, shooting his rifle at the four horn’s feet. That was enough to jar the animal loose of its indecision. Grunting, it swung its well-armed front after the captain. Fortunately, even as the rest of them tried to deter that, the captain had more than enough room to jump out of the way. The four horn was enormous and could build up a fair bit of speed, but it wasn’t especially built for sharp turns. It did its best, which ended up consisting of it plowing between Captain Marsden and Corporal Hanley.

The margrave let off a shot as it passed. Ian didn’t see how it landed, but it was a decent idea. It was dubious whether a decent hit behind its shoulders would drop it, but it was the second best place.

More bellows came as the four horn made a gradual loop around where the three other four horns were standing some distance away. Their hunting party wasn’t really concerned about them, only the largest bull mattered.

“Well,”
Ian said, taking his spare cartridge from the side of his rifle, the others also reloading as they watched the four horn, “it could be worse.”

“It could be better,” Rory muttered, coming up behind him.

“Captain?” Ian called over to his slightly shaken-looking superior.

“
My Lord,” Captain Marsden said toward the margrave, without taking his eyes off the four horn.

“Good work, captain,” the margrave said, softly lowering himself to one knee.

Captain Marsden took his eyes away from the four horn to look and see that the margrave wasn’t.

They all held steady, their eyes back on the fou
r horn as it stayed by its fellows, bellowing and looking back at them. It had its shoulders raised up and—

             
                                          the air rang out with the margrave’s report. The thick, wide-open bay shot slashed out into the four horn’s chest, the startled pain quickly issuing back from the animal. It staggered to the right, kicking its head up and losing its footing. All but one of the other four horns scattered away, the closest female mewling close to it as the bull slowly collapsed in stages, still trying to bellow.

“Incredible shot,” Ian heard the captain say.

Ian watched the four horn a moment longer before he looked back at the margrave, who was slowly rising back to his feet, looking as though he was momentarily satisfied of some burden.

“That finishes it nicely,” Ian
let out a breath, watching the other four horns.

“
Men,” Captain Marsden said to them, “go scare off the rest of the beasts. And do not shoot at any more; I think we have had plenty enough work for this one.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered. Corporal Hanley looked at
Rory and Ian with an expression somewhere opposite of energetic, nodded, and they started to trudge in that direction.

To some disappointment, Ian realized that no progress had been made either way in his bet with Kieran over
shooting the first four horn. Ian wasn’t sure if it was a moot bet at this point anyway, given the recent developments. But plenty more of the expedition remained, regardless if their bet was ever mentioned again.