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Chapter 32 – Scars

They did take the cart back. Delta walked into the tent, silently took off and stacked her armor, and then collapsed on the cot. Gwen got up on one elbow and looked questioningly at Zipper.

“Some of Metzre’s soldiers went rogue. We had to take them down”, said Zipper, and started taking her own armor off.

“Big fight?” asked Gwen.

“Big enough”, said Zipper.

Gwen pushed her legs off the cot, and then pulled herself over to Zipper. She cautiously laid a hand on her arm. “You fight forty-four? All you?” she asked.

Zipper smiled. “Yeah. Something like.” She looked over at Delta. “Killed some. They deserved it.”

Gwen rocked back and watched her intently. “Problem goblins have”, she said. “Drink goblins don’t. Forget memories no way. Give Thule.”

“Thule be far”, said Zipper. “Sounds like good advice.”

Gwen started a low singing. The words were simple, with the same syllable repeated over and over for the most part. There was a lot more nasal aspiration than in normal speech. Some rhythmic parts were accompanied by finger snapping and chest slapping. Whatever there was to it, it worked. Delta’s breathing had calmed, and Zipper was asleep before she was aware of it.

She was awakened a few hours later with gentle nudging from Gwen. “Zip”, said Gwen, trying to get through the fuzziness. “Food.”

“I’m awake”, said Zipper, although she clearly wasn’t.

A few minutes later, Gwen managed to make it clear that the mess tent was closing soon and that if she didn’t get up now, she was not going to get food.

“I’m awake”, said Zipper. “Really. Where are my boots?”

Delta was up too. She already had her boots on, but she was just standing quietly next to the door, staring at nothing in particular.

Gwen was on Johnston and nudged Delta with her folded-up tabard. She looked at it for a moment and then reached out, took it, and put it on automatically.

“Man, I’m starving”, said Zipper, pulling her own tabard over her head.

They walked out into dim light. The sun had been down for hours, but there was still bustle and noise around the camp. Refugees sat about everywhere. Most of them had tents, but in their disruption and loss they sought out others just to talk to.

There were not many people left eating in the mess tent, but there were plenty of people there, talking over the remains of food. They filled their bowls and went to find a place to sit down. People looked up when they saw them, and got up, leaving space. But they didn’t get up in the ‘we don’t want to be near you’ sense, but in the ‘we respect you, have our seats’ sense.

Delta tracked that in the confusion as she sat down. After a mouthful or two, she realized she really was hungry, and focused on eating for a while. When she looked up, a boy had shyly approached. He carefully placed a handful of strawberries on the table in front of her. She leaned forward to try to catch what he was mumbling. He took a step back and said louder “Thank you for your help on the road today!” and then ran off.

She looked at the strawberries, fascinated. They must have been from someone’s plot in the town, hastily picked as they fled. She picked one up and ate it. It was a little early, but still tasted good. She looked beyond it and saw that the boy had run to his parents, who watched her solemnly. She nodded to them and mouthed “thank you”.

Delta ate another two, and then looked to her companions. She gave one to Zipper, who was strongly hinting she would very much like one. Then she smiled slightly, and passed one to Gwen, who took it dubiously. After tasting it, though, her eyes lit up.

“Strawberry”, she said, teaching them the goblin word. “Smaller strawberries in mountains. Recognize didn’t.” Delta passed the rest around.

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A few other families and individuals came up and offered them bits and pieces. Delta was surprisingly touched. Eventually she just asked them to stop. “I have been paid”, she said. “Thank you. But please keep what you have. You need it more than I do.”

They were nearly done with their meal when Sir Chardon came through the tent. He looked exhausted but stopped to talk to many of the refugees and offer them reassurances. He did a surprised double take when he went past their table.

“Ah, there you are”, he picked a seat and sat down heavily. “I did want to thank you personally for your effort on the road today.” He stared at the table, shaking his head. “I am dreadfully, dreadfully disappointed in the behavior of those Metzre troops. Desertion. Brigandy. I would not have believed it of them.” He looked up at them. “You, however, fought with bravery, dignity, and courage.” He turned and indicated the people. “For the common good. Such nobility, from mercenaries no less, puts my county to shame.”

Delta hardened her jaw. “We do what we’re paid to do”, she said. “We’re mercenaries.” She used the same tone he had. “Your praise should be delivered to those who hired us.”

He nodded absently and collected his thoughts. “That is certainly something to think about.” He got up then, bid them good night, and left.

“Nice guy”, said Zipper. “Completely clueless.”

“Just like Sir Rault”, said Delta. Then she sighed. “Still, better than completely ruthless. We’ve been lucky.”

“Not a scratch on us”, said Zipper, cheerily.

“Not on the outside, anyway”, said Delta, distractedly. Then she drank her tankard of water empty. “That’s the life of a polearm. No injuries but fatal ones.”

They slept the rest of the night soundly and woke to army criers announcing there was going to be a general assembly just after dawn. This seemed more aimed at the civilians than those with arms, but they put their gear on and trooped out anyway, standing at the back.

The address was given by Major Kanni. She first thanked them for being orderly and polite and assured them that there would be space for them here for as long as they wanted. But she said that news had reached her during the night that the fighting was over in Metzre. There wasn’t exactly cheering, but people were more attentive. She said she expected a lot of them would be eager to return to their homes to secure their places and looked for loved ones. To facilitate this, they would be providing escort for any who wished to travel in caravan, leaving in an hour’s time. She reassured people, again, that they could also stay if they wished. And that future caravans would be arranged at future times.

“Guess what duty we have today”, said Zipper.

They were already harnessing up their wagon when a corporal came around to tell them they would be lead on the caravan back to Metzre. They smiled politely and moved on out to the road.

“A two-day siege”, said Delta. “Pretty quick by most standards.”

“Those walls wouldn’t hold out flies”, said Zipper. “They probably blew hard and knocked them down.”

“The castle was solid enough”, said Delta. “Not pretty. But defensible.”

“If you had the will to defend it”, said Zipper. “This General of theirs appears to be quite the talker. Maybe he just asked them to tea, and they capitulated.”

“Magic”, said Gwen.

They got started an hour late. Major Kanni rode with them for the first hour, ostensibly to discuss more about the goblin language. But the causeway was bright, and Gwen was sleepy, so it was mostly secondhand information from Delta and Zipper.

The conversation was much interspersed with trivialities about other cultures that Kanni had seen. She gave them a formal overview of the Orcish tradition of medal giving, most of which they already knew. It had been bloodier and purely for combat prowess when she had toured Bright. The modern practice was unique to this army. When she found out they had been given medals already, she insisted they recite the tales of them and impressed upon them that it would be a very good idea if they remembered them clearly and wore them prominently.

Eventually she looked regretfully to the sun. “Well, that’s my excuse done.” She paused a moment before leaving. “There were many times I thought, as a young girl, of running off with just such a mercenary bunch as you. Now I’m older, with a command position and responsibility. I don’t have the luxury.” She looked around, up and down the line, but not at them. “I know I’m over-romanticizing things. Reality is always dirty and smelly. It doesn’t stop me being envious, in parts.” Now she looked directly at them. “Gods be with you.” And she rode off.

They rode on in silence for a while. Zipper craned her neck around to make sure she was gone. “’We need a reputation’, you said. ‘We’ll get better jobs with a reputation’, you said.” She looked mock askance at Delta. “You didn’t say anything about the fans telling us how courageous and noble we were or sighing over their lost, adventurous youth.”

“It kind of makes sense now, though”, said Delta. “All the really impressive mercenary bands I heard about didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone. Mostly they just wanted to do their job, be paid, and be left alone.”

“So, we ditch the tabards and aspire to mediocracy?” asked Zipper.

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore”, said Delta. She looked down at the sleeping Gwen. “We’re known and we stand out too much.”

“We could always buy passage through one of those commerce gates.” She made a wooshing noise. “Suddenly we’re on the other side of the world.”

“At least until these guys catch up”, said Delta. “They want it all.”

“That’s crazy talk”, said Zipper. “They’ll probably settle for Avenio.

Delta shrugged. “Let’s see what happened in Metzre. Right now, we’re leading a long line of happy, grateful citizens who only remember who saved them, and not who put them in peril to begin with. Do you know what a snowball is?”

“I do in theory”, said Zipper. She looked up and down the line. Some had begun singing. She looked less certain than she had been.