"No. That's the day after. And you won't march with us. I'll have something for you to do—"

"But—"

"Don't argue with me! I'm still your sergeant! By the time you get into Sord, you'll be free of all this. Now get over there and go to sleep."

That night Paks slept through to daylight without waking.

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"From Duke Phelan's Company, eh?" Paksenarrion nodded. The guard captain was a burly dark man of middle height. "Leaving the Company?"

Paks shrugged. "Going home for awhile."

"Hmm. Wagonmaster says you want to leave the caravan halfway—?"

"It's shorter—"

"Mmm. Wagonmaster talked to your sergeant, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir."

"It'll do, then, I suppose. Do you handle a crossbow?"

"Not well, sir. I have used a longbow, but I'm no expert."

The guard captain sighed. "Can't have everything, I suppose. Now listen to me—the caravan starts making up day after tomorrow, and we'll leave the day after that or the next, depending on how many merchants join up. I'll want you here by high noon day after tomorrow, ready to work. You come in drunk, and I'll dock your pay. We have to watch the wagons as close in the city as on the trail. Don't plan on sleeping that night. Be sure to get some armor; the caravan doesn't supply it. I'd recommend chainmail. The brigands we'll run into along the coast use powerful bows. That leather you're used to won't stop arrows. You can buy mail from us, if you want." He cocked his head at her. "Clear so far?"

"Yes, sir. Be here at noon day after tomorrow, with armor."

"And not drunk."

Paks flushed. "I don't get drunk."

"Everyone gets drunk. Some know when. And by the way, no bedding with the merchants; it's bad for discipline."

Paks bit back an angry retort. "No, sir."

"Very well. See you day after tomorrow." He waved her off. As she left the room, she passed two armed men in the hall outside; one of them carried a crossbow.

* * *

"I can't believe you're going." Paks had hoped to slip out quietly, but Arñe, Vik, and other friends had found her. "What'll you do by yourself?"

"I won't be alone," she said. "I'm doing caravan work—"

"Caravan work! Tir's gut, Paks, that's—"

"Some years the Duke does some. You know that."

"Yes, but that's with us—with the Company. To go out there with strangers—"

"Arñe, think. How many strangers are in the Company this year?"

"You're right about that. But still—we're—we're your friends, Paks. Since I came in, you've been my friend."

"Yes, but I can't—"

"Is it that Gird's Marshal? Are you going to join the Girdsmen?"

"I don't know. No, I don't think so. I'm just—" Paks stared past them, trying to say it. "I'm taking leave—we're all owed leave—and I might come back or I might not."