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I also wondered what everyone was doing on Le-Ath Veronis and what they'd done with the increasing number of wall climbers with connections to Solar Red. Those thoughts were a nagging problem at the back of my mind, but Toff had to come first. I had no idea how organized Solar Red was or what their intentions were where Le-Ath Veronis or I was concerned. Nobody else seemed to be worried about Toff at all. That pissed me off. In a royal way.
How the hell had the bracelets gotten mixed up? Had Green Birth done it? I couldn't imagine that they'd trade the real heir for someone else who didn't make a bit of difference to the Karathian population. That worry chased itself around in my mind, so I had to let it go for the moment. I was going to see what there was to be seen, and then make a decision at the end of the road, here.
"What's that following at your heel, Solis?" A fellow officer fell in step with Solis.
"My bodyguard and runner," Solis replied, not bothering to stop and chat with the newcomer. The other, also a Captain, decided to stay in step with us and insult me at the same time. Well, he could multitask; I'll give him that.
"That's not tall enough to take a good swing from regular army, even."
"You think I'll let regular army insult me in that way?" Solis' hand fell to the hilt of his sword.
"Not at all," the other one held his hands up in a placating gesture. I wanted to tell him that I'd take him on and he'd be dead in a blink, but I kept the words behind my teeth.
"I'll bet she doesn't know how to take care of your blade," the other one said.
"Liss, do you know how to care for a blade?" Solis flung behind him.
"Yes, sir." I did—Drake and Drew made sure of that. I could clean, sharpen and polish, even though my blades, made by Grey House, didn't need sharpening. Drake and Drew had brought old blades to me and watched carefully while I did it, until I'd passed inspection. Falchani are funny that way. You don't mistreat a blade around them—they get downright serious about it.
"See?" Solis wasn't even looking at the Captain at his side. "Desmun, if you don't have anything constructive to say, I have other things more pressing."
"I'll trade my runner for her." Desmun had a motive and it just became clear.
"No, the assignment has already been recorded and I don't have the patience to go back and change it now. You're stuck, Desmun. Besides, I don't expect Liss would welcome you in her bedroll. Good-bye, Desmun." Desmun stopped walking and Solis and I soon left him behind. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"This is our tent, and will be for the next three days," Solis announced as I dumped my duffle inside. "After that, we'll pack up and move out. Regulars set up the officer's tents, and the tents with a single green stripe are the Sergeant's tents. Two green stripes are Lieutenants, and three green stripes are the Captains' tents. General's tent is all green. Got it?" Solis pulled me through the tent flap into sunlight again, and swept out an arm. Five more Captains' tents surrounded ours, all with the designated three green stripes. Beyond them lay eight tents with two green stripes, and twelve with a single green stripe. A sea of plain canvas tents surrounded us past that point.
"Yes, sir." I nodded at Solis' gesture. He led me inside the tent, again, which was divided into two sections by a canvas drape. He pointed out his portion; it was the section at the back of the tent. "I use this space as my sleeping quarters and office. Understand?" I nodded again.
"Good. The space inside the flap is yours, and it's your job to guard me while I sleep. Regulars are supposed to keep watch during the night, but you need to at least trip anyone coming in without permission."
"Oh, I'll do more than that, sir."
Solis smiled briefly. "Good," he nodded. "Stow your gear and we'll go watch the exercises. Wear your blade."
Solis was waiting outside the tent when I walked out of it, wearing black leathers with both blades strapped to my back.
"You use both of those?" Solis lifted an eyebrow.
"When I have to," I said. The hilts of my blades lay conveniently over my shoulders so I could put my hands on them quickly if needed. The Falchani knew what they were doing when they designed those sheaths and leather harnesses.
"The Pelipu's troops will be arriving by sea this afternoon, and will march from the port to meet us tomorrow. I expect trouble when they arrive. Some are mercenaries, although they wear the uniform of the Temple. Don't ever let that fool you, Liss."
"Don't you worry, sir." I was back to walking slightly behind him, down a trampled grass trail between tents. We were into the tents for the Regulars, and eight Regulars slept in a single tent slightly larger than Captain Solis'. We passed the Regular mess tents on the way to the sparring grounds.
"The officers' mess is on the other side of the officers' tents," Solis said, as sounds of metal blades clanging and wooden blades clacking against each other grew louder. "You'll either be eating with me there, as my bodyguard, or bringing both our meals back to the tent if I have work to do while I'm eating," Solis said. I nodded mutely.
His eyes, just like mine, were now on the practice ground and the sparring that was taking place there. Some of the men barely knew how to hold a blade, and if they did, they held it badly. Dragon and Crane would have scowled before wading into that mess and yelling at all of them. Dragon always said if you didn't have enough strength to hold a sword with one hand, then you'd best use two hands and be faster than your opponent. These guys would have washed out of the Warlord's army, I think.
"I hope the enemy either gives up or dies laughing," Solis muttered sarcastically as we watched. Desmun caught up with us as we stood and watched.
"Pitiful," he grumbled. "Are they taking civilians off the street?"
"I believe so," Solis replied.
Desmun stared at the hilts over my shoulder. "Steal those blades?" he asked.
"They were a gift," I said. "Sir."
"Of course they were." Desmun turned back to the sparring. One particularly clumsy young man dropped his wooden practice blade and got thumped when he stooped to retrieve it. A Sergeant, standing nearby and watching, yelled at him, causing the boy to flush to the roots of his light-brown hair. If he'd done that in a real battle, his head would have been missing when he straightened up. I didn't understand what had motivated him to join the army to begin with, without benefit of any training.
"Lack of money," Solis commented, as if he were reading my mind. I'd been shaking my head; I realized it after a moment. Desmun turned to watch the clouds gathering behind us.
