Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html weight of armor on; her knees felt as if they had sand in them. "I am Centurion Shkai'ra Mek Kermak's-kin," she told them. "I command this troop. Decurion Bukangkt is provisional second."And I'm provisional Centurion, but let's not get fancy . "This is Squire Sova Shkai'ra's-daughter Far-Traveller, my aide. Further appointments will be made according to merit." The pony pranced, feeling Sova shift at her new use-name. Well, it fit as well as "Can't-take-your-eyes-off-her-for-a-moment" or "Disobedient Little Bitch." She scanned the line. "At present, all you have is an appointment with the corpse-robbers!" She let the words sink in. "This is the most undisciplined, shabby, ill-assorted, uncoordinated excuse for a cavalry troop it's ever been my misfortune to see, let alone try to command! Steel Spirit weep, the thought of leading you up against Arkan regulars, I don't know whether to laugh, puke, or run!" She hammered a fist on her saddlebow. "Youwill keep up with line of march, and you will drill at maneuver every minute of it . You will take care of your horses before your gear, and your gear before yourselves; you will make a camp the Demarchic Guard would be proud of, and then you will do weapons-drill until you drop, and then, maybe, you can eat and sleep." She let her scowl relax into a smile. "And when we meet the Arkans, we will kick their well-reamed assholes so hard their teeth march off to Kurkas like little wooden soldiers on parade, and we will skin them of loot right down to their bones." "Mount!" That wiped out the grins. She drew her sword and took the file-leader's position, forward and to the right. "Form column of squads, from the left. Walk-march,trot ." Zaik saw them try. Zaik wept, or maybe laughed. She sighed, and hoped the next battle would be delayed a long, long time. I'm never going to be done riding stupid horses, Megan thought sourly. Shkai'ra and Sova were off doing what cavalry did; Megan kept an eye as well as her rear on the revolting creature she was riding, while mentally reviewing the technique for using a wire garrote. She'd learned it quite a while ago and hadn't had much occasion to use one since.Learn the flip/snap till you can do it falling on someone, Megan , her old master had said,since you're not likely to be able to reach up to a naZak's neck anyway . So true, that had turned out to be. She'd brought one in her collar, thinking she might need it. The dust cloud was broadening; trot, walk, trot now rather than just walk. She was near the head of the main column; far ahead was the vanguard, then a long stretch of open road curving slightly through rolling hills, then the mounted Elite Demarchic Guard at the head of the main column, under the great standard of Yeola-e, green mountains, blue sky with seven stars.And I, here with the odds and sods, as Shkai'ra would say , Megan thought sourly, all the bits and pieces attached to headquarters. Behind them the Aniah marching on foot, double-bitted axes over their shoulders; behindthat , the endless column of troops and baggage. The countryside around them was strange, hotly alien to F'talezonian eyes: terraced hills with vineyards, olives, apricot trees, oranges, figs, strips of yellowing barley and wheat. The stone cottages were deserted, no movement off across the hills except an occasional dust-cloud or twinkle of steel from the outriders. A manor house on a hill was burning, sending a dun club of black smoke and sparks up into the air. The road lanced across the hills, massive cuttings and embankments; there were poplars along either side, and the passing strips of shade were more than welcome. Megan took a sip of lukewarm canvas-tasting water from her canteen and spat.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Lixand. Son of my body. We're closer. Her pony sneezed at the dust.Lixand. I won't think of what your life is like . The implications of the words in the agent's letter, "… he is a favorite of the Lord," tore at her like Hotblood's fangs tearing horsemeat. Plans. What good suggestions could she come up with for scaring Arkans? Visions of Halya; Hayel, their Halya, didn't have air.Hmmm. Could I make someone think there was no air ? One of the squires came whipping back on a pony. "Megan called Whitlock?" She nodded. "You're commanded forward. To thesemanakraseye ." She thanked him and he went off.Looks like I'll finally get to be useful. If I can get this beast to trot … At the column-head, surrounded by his staff and gallopers, she found Chevenga riding on his Lakan black, carrying the great mountain-and-stars on his shoulder.Symbolic. He believes in that . His armor matched, the trim blue and green and, here and there, flashes of gold: it was segmented plate of the highest quality Yeolis made, as good as Zak. His helmet and gauntlets were off, hooked to his saddle; on his head he wore only a green bandanna. As she came up alongside him, he handed the standard off, and wheeled with a smile to her and a beckoning gesture. A little way back was a small covered cart; passing their horses' leads to a squire, he gave her a hand up, and they climbed in. Inside was spare, reminding her of his tent. It was a rolling office: the folding desk was set up, and an old white-haired woman he introduced as Chinisa somebody, his scribe, sat behind it busy with some paperwork, glancing up with a polite smile. The same locking file cabinet was there too, and a small pallet with blankets neatly made up; beside it was a large sand-timer, the type with a switch-valve between the glass chambers so it could be shut off without being turned on its side.Who sleeps here ? He and the scribe spoke back and forth in Yeoli; all Megan caught of Chinisa's words were "semanakraseye," and that only because he corrected her, clearly saying "No, it's just Chevenga." —"Amiyaseye," the scribe said then, teasingly. He said something with a peeved look, and she was gone, grinning.Does it bother him to be called that ? Megan remembered how it had made her squirm, to learn of her own fame.Still, I wasn't born and trained into a position … Chevenga wrung out his bandanna, tucked it in a dagger-strap, and offered her a cushion, sitting himself on the one opposite, and running a hand through sweat-sodden curls. "Cider, unfermented, or tea?" "Cider, please,kras ," she answered. He called out the door; in barely a moment, the jar, sweating in the heat, came. "Well," he said, as he poured, "I've been thinking about it some. I hope you've been thinking about it more; you understand what you can do better than I. We're going to have an Arkan camp within reach tonight, though, and probably fight tomorrow." "Back inside Yeola-e, we were trying to convince them we had Hayel-demons on our side. The first time, I promised their general, the famous Abatzas Kallen, that is, that Hayel would visit their camp if they didn't march forthwith; he laughed, of course, and that night Hayel visited their camp. I won't say how, but we had them convinced enough." He didn't need to say more; she'd heard tales of the rout. "We kept that sort of thing up, all across Yeola-e; I didn't know we were going to cross the border then, before my people took their decision. Now… Arko will be happier feeling we're winning by the grace of Celestialis, not Hayel." What do you care, how they feel? But Ivahn's words came back:He wouldn't leave Arko leaderless
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