Page 61 of Sword Dance

“So … ” Gelon looked around, stumped for a moment. “What is it to be?”

“I believe they’ve already told you,” said Varazda. “Nione Kukara is not going to give you her villa, I’m not going to marry you, and First Spear Damiskos is not going to run errands to Pheme for you. Perhaps you had better go in and tell Helenos.”

“I am not here to negotiate with you,” Gelon repeated peevishly. “Look, Damiskos from the Quartermaster’s Office, we’re willing to let you go if you’ll take Nione back to Pheme with you now. Just come up to the house, get your horse and so on … ”

It was not an unreasonable gambit. If they let Damiskos go now, they had no reason to think he would come back, and at least they’d be rid of him. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that he’d be eager to escort Nione to safety.

Or they might have a trap prepared for him up at the house. That seemed equally likely.

“Not interested,” Damiskos said shortly.

“Look, there’s no trick. You just … go back to Pheme—get your things and go back to Pheme, take her with you, she’s safe, you’re fine—right?”

“Yes, I understand what you want. The answer is no. I’m staying here.”

Gelon glowered at him. “You’re making a stupid mistake.”

“Nevertheless.”

A bit more glowering, then Gelon sneered openly. “I’ve heard the Quartermaster’s Office is a dumping-ground for officers who have been reduced in rank but not turned off. Everyone knows it.”

Damiskos said nothing.

Gelon was getting red in the face now. “What did you do to get sent there, First Spear of the First Koryphos?”

“Second Koryphos. There’s no First Koryphos. Schoolchildren know that.”

“What was it, then?” Gelon all but snarled. “Rape too many women in Sasia? Or boys—I bet it was boys, the Sasians hate that kind of thing. Or you like to pretend to, don’t you?” he spat at Varazda. “Really you like it, you degenerate sons of—”

“You shut up,” Aradne burst out in a voice like melodious thunder. “You shut your filthy, gods-cursed mouth, go back to whoever the godsdamn fuck you answer to, and tell him we’re staying where we are until you all clear out of our house. You heard us. Nobody’s leaving at your say-so. Now fuck off.”

Gelon raked his eye over the four of them, standing abreast, then turned abruptly, hitched up his trailing mantle, and scurried back across the beach.

“Sorry for the language, ma’am,” said Aradne gruffly.

“Oh, not at all, dear.”

Aradne turned to Damiskos. “It was some political bullshit, wasn’t it? The reason you were reduced in rank.”

He looked at her for a moment. It was a rather nice compliment, in a way. “I wasn’t reduced in rank. I was honourably discharged on account of injury—I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m lame.”

She looked embarrassed. “Right. I apologize.”

“Not at all.” He went on, to smooth over the awkwardness. “I, er, I went back to work for the Quartermaster’s Office instead of drawing a pension because I wanted to be useful. It is a dumping-ground for disgraced officers, and someone told me they were in need of good men. And the pay is slightly better—the Second Koryphos may be a famous legion, but the pay is terrible and the pensions are worse. The joke is that you’re not meant to retire—you’re meant to die in battle or be promoted on to commander.”

Chapter 15

The rest of the students arrived as the last sliver of the sun disappeared into the sea, striding in a ragged line in silence down the beach. They stood around outside the women’s defences, dark shapes with here and there the glint of moonlight on knife blades. The effect was sinister, and Damiskos was pleased to find the women remained calm behind their barricade.

“Let them come within range, and then we’ll hurl a few stones,” he instructed in an undertone.

The order was relayed in whispers. The children and some of the household women were in the southern hut, some already asleep. The rest of the party was sitting in the sand behind their defensive perimeter. They had lit a fire to cook fish for dinner, but it had died to embers by this time, and everyone had been yawning before the students arrived.

The women sat in quiet readiness. The students had stopped at a cautious distance. From inside the southern hut, a baby gave a gurgling chuckle, an eerily ordinary noise. Damiskos smiled to himself, and caught Varazda’s eye on him.

“You’re not worried,” Varazda whispered in Zashian.

Damiskos wasn’t sure what to say. It was true he wasn’t worried. What he felt was exhilaration, but that wasn’t what he would have expected anyone else to feel.