“That has little or nothing to do with us,” Kero reminded them forcefully. “We’re mercenaries. They aren’t. They have oaths to fulfill, and duties that they won’t renege on. We’re in this for pay. Now, the Skybolts have never been an ordinary Company, and I’ve never been an ordinary Captain. That’s why I’ve called you all here. I’m not going to make a decision like this one alone, or even with my officers. Do we try to go, or do we stay? And do I stay your Captain—”

The shouts of disapproval that met that question made her feel terribly self-conscious. “All right,” she bellowed at last, holding up her hands for silence. “All right, if you want me that badly, you’ve got me. But the other question—break out, or stay and do what we can? You know the drill; dark-colored pebble for ‘go,’ light or white for ‘stay.’ And no maybe-colored rocks, either—I don’t want any maybes on this one. Geyr will collect your votes.”

She turned and sat down, waiting for the results of the vote, keeping her mind tightly sealed against their thoughts. She didn’t want to know what they were thinking, and she didn’t want to influence it, either.

She tried not to think of anything, really. As Geyr moved out with the basket into the massed fighters someone else called out a question. “What about you?”

“I’ll be going with you, since you’ll have me,” she said. “And I’ll stay with you as far as Bolthaven; I intend to call another vote then, and see if you still want me when this is over. I have my responsibilities as much as these Heralds have, and my oaths have been made to you. I don’t intend to break them.”

She heard the murmurs, saw the looks, and knew what they were thinking as well as if she had opened her mind to them. They all knew about Eldan—quite a few of them knew about their first meeting, ten years ago. They knew what she would be sacrificing by leading them if they voted to break out, or at least they thought they did.

She ignored the murmurs, and kept her expression schooled into serenity. I made my oaths, I have my responsibilities. He knows that. It doesn’t hurt any less—but there’s no choice. Vows are made to be kept, and he would be the first one to agree.