The wind died to nothing, and her cloak weighed down her shoulders as if embodying all of her troubles. That thought led obliquely to another. I’m good at fighting. Of course, it would be nice if there wasn’t any fighting, if bandits would stop raiding, and people would stop making war on each other, and everyone could live in peace. But that isn’t going to happen in my lifetime-probably not for a long, long time. So it makes sense for people who are good at fighting to go out and do it—because if they’re good at it, that means the fewest number of other people die.

That was essentially what Tarma had said to both of them, a hundred times over; that her job and Daren’s was to learn everything they could about advance planning, to protect those serving with and under them, to keep their casualties to an absolute minimum.

But there are going to be people like bandits, like the Karsites, who don’t care how many people die. People with no conscience, no honor. I know that a lot of folk think mercs don’t have either—but if that’s true, then why the Codes?

It was all beginning to come together, to make a vague sort of sense. She stopped again, and squinted her eyes against the westering sun. There’s always going to be fighting. I can’t see the world turning suddenly peaceful in my lifetime. People of honor have to be a part of that, because if they aren‘t, the only ones fighting will be the ones who don’t care, who have no honor, and no concern for how many others die. Right. That’s why I’m doing this. In a funny kind of way, it’s to protect the Diernas and Lordans, the people who would be the victims. Even if I’m getting paid to do it, it’s still protecting them.

Because if all the fighting is done by people with no conscience, there won’t be any safety anywhere for the people who only want peace.

That was the answer she was looking for. She felt tension leaving her, as she turned her back on the setting sun, and headed home with her shadow reaching out before her, black against the blue-tinged snow.

I’m good now, but I have to become very good. Special. So special that I can pick my Company and my Captain, pick someone with a Company so good he can choose when he won’t take a job, because it’s for the wrong side and the wrong causes. Just like Grandmother and Tarma did.