Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
Generated <strong>by</strong> ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html<br />
The moon was down; it was black under the forest with only the soft brilliance of the summer stars for<br />
light. The dry dust-smell of summer <strong>and</strong> the intense green odor of the forest mixed in the night air. Megan<br />
sat easily in the crook of an oak, looking out over the Arkan camp, ignoring the damp chill of dew<br />
soaking into her clothes. It was abig camp; even now the Empire did things in style. Fifty or sixty<br />
thous<strong>and</strong> men, half that many horses. It smelled worse than the Alliance camp, she found, when the<br />
breeze turned for a moment. There was a severely regular ditch <strong>and</strong> mound with a tree trunk palisade on<br />
top, this time; the Alliance had taught the Arkans something about night attacks.<br />
The campfires had been many <strong>and</strong> bright, the men reluctant to turn in until the officers ordered it. Megan<br />
waited until the Arkans were as quiet as they would get, then dropped <strong>and</strong> ghosted over the cleared<br />
ground toward the palisade; pause, crawl, pause, pause, becoming a shadow every sentry round. No<br />
matter how thoroughly the troops scoured the perimeter there was always a little brush overlooked, left<br />
because it wouldn't hide a normal-sized person.<br />
The wooden wall was unbarked logs, still studded with lopped-off stubs of branches, formidable to an<br />
armored soldier <strong>and</strong> easy as stairs for her. There was a rattle of armor above, bored Arkan voices with<br />
thesolas accent exchanging the password.<br />
Far too loudly, she thought.They don't imagine anyone would dare come this close. Arrogant .<br />
She rolled over the sharpened points of the logs <strong>and</strong> dropped down in a soft crouch on the inside; there<br />
was a roadway around the interior of the wall, then regular rows of tents graded <strong>by</strong> rank, like every other<br />
Arkan camp. Megan was next to the officer's row of an infantry rejin; there were fires, one in front of<br />
every third tent, burned down to grey red pits of ash <strong>and</strong> embers. An hour before there had still been<br />
soldiers up, cleaning their armor, talking, singing; she had heard two youngersolas working out the<br />
harmonies to "Under the Lamplight," same melody as in the Alliance camp, the Arkan words fitting just as<br />
well.Some things get shared, across the field, somehow. Strange, war .<br />
In the still air now she could hear someone snoring, the sound echoing as if his head were still in his<br />
helmet.His tent-mates <strong>and</strong> neighbors must love him , she thought.I'll fix that soon enough .<br />
She could almost walk through with her eyes closed the pattern was so regular. The high comm<strong>and</strong>ers'<br />
tents were near the center, the pickets off that way, upwind so the horses wouldn't smell her, the supply<br />
carts over there. On the other side of the neatly laid out section, past the privy trenches <strong>and</strong> facing<br />
toward the Yeolis, was the clump of camp followers <strong>and</strong> hangers-on, sleeping where they could.<br />
No mercenaries attached to this camp, especially since that general, Abatzas Kallen, had tried to<br />
doublecross the Schvait <strong>and</strong> make them fight their own kin at Michere, back in Yeola-e. The story was<br />
well known. Three companies of blackshirts had deserted, coming out straight through the sleeping<br />
Arkan army—through, in every sense of the term. Arko was having trouble hiring anybody but scum<br />
nowadays; using them as sword-fodder in a losing campaign, they didn't have many left.<br />
She froze again as the sentry paced <strong>by</strong>, torch half-burned. Her nose wrinkled at the strong odor of<br />
someone who ate beef more than three times a week, <strong>and</strong> was tense. Waiting for something frightening to<br />
happen… she cackled inwardly. Hotblood waited outside the palisade, wanting to come <strong>and</strong> eat a few<br />
moreblondprey , as he had started calling them.<br />
She stopped <strong>by</strong> the infirmary tent, near an ash tree. In this forest country it was too much trouble to clear<br />
a camp entirely <strong>by</strong> logging it. Megan reached inside for themanrauq , the pool of blue/violet behind her<br />
eyes. As she found it, she caught her breath, as if making a dive into cool water that tasted blue <strong>and</strong><br />
sounded of vinegar. The more she practiced it the clearer <strong>and</strong> sharper it became, as addictive in its way