"Moon, Elizabeth - Deed Of Paksenarrion - 02 - Divided Allegiance V1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

Paks tried to smother these feelings. She had spoken out once—that was enough for any private. As long as she wore the Duke's colors, she owed him obedience. He had done a lot for her, had honored her more than most. Surely the Duke's service was worth a little discomfort, even this unease. When they marched out of Ka-Immer, leaving a garrison of Alured's men behind, Paks tried to tell herself the worst was over. But it wasn't. In town after town, along the Immerhoft coast, the same scenes were played. Alured, it seemed, knew of Siniava's agents in every one. Or they refused his lordship, remembering him as a pirate, and he had to enforce his will. The mercenaries did not participate in the executions and tortures, but without them Alured lacked the troops to force so many towns.
None of them knew how long it would last—r-where the Duke was planning to stop. Surely he would, they thought. Any day he would turn back, would march to Valdaire. But he said nothing, staring south across the blue endless water. Uneasiness ran through the Company like mice through a whiter attic.
Paks thought no one had noticed her in particular until Stammel came to her guardpost one night. He stood near her, unspeaking, for a few minutes. Paks wondered what he wanted. Then he sighed, and took off his helmet, rumpling up his hair.
"I don't need to ask what's wrong with you," he began. "But something has to be done."
Paks could think of nothing to say.
"You aren't eating enough for someone half your size. You'll be no good to any of us if you fell sick—"
"I'm fine—" began Paks, but he interrupted.
"No, you're not fine, and neither am I. But I'm keeping my food down, and sleeping nights, which is more than you're doing. And I don't want to lose a good veteran in all this. We don't have that many."
Paks nodded slowly. "So many of us. aren't—aren't really the Company."
"Yes—all those new people we've picked up here and there. They aren't the same." Stammel paused again. He put his helmet back on, and rubbed his nose. "I don't know tf they ever will be—if we ever will be—what we were." His voice trailed away.
"I keep—keep seeing—" Paks could not go on.
"Paks, you—' Stammel cleared his throat. "You shouldn't be in this."
She was startled enough to make a choked sound, as if she'd been hit. "What-^why—"
"You don't." His voice gathered firmness as he went on. "By Tir, I can't stand by and see you fell apart. Not for this. You've served the Duke as well as anyone could. D'you think he doesn't know it? Or I?" Now he sounded almost angry. "You don't belong here, in this kind of fighting. That Marshal was right; even the Duke said you might be meant for better things." He stopped again, and his voice was calmer when he resumed. "I think you should leave, Paks."
"Leave the Company?" Despite the shock, she felt a sudden wash of relief at the thought of being out of it.
"Yes. That's what I came to say. Tir knows this is hard enough on me—and I'm older, and—But you leave, Paks. Go back north. Go home, maybe, or see if you can take knight's training somewhere. Don't stay in this until you can'tstand yourself, or the Duke either."
"But I—how can I ask—I can't go to him—"
Stammel nodded forcefully. "Yes, you can. Tell Arcolin. The captain'll understand—he knows you. Hell tell the Duke—or you can. They'll recommend you somewhere, I'm sure of it."
"But to leave the Duke—"
"Paks, I've got nothing to say against him. You know that. He's been my lord since I started; I will follow him anywhere. But—you stopped him once, when he—he might have made a mistake. Maybe—if you leave, maybe hell look again—"
Paks was speechless, faced again with the decision she thought she'd settled in Cortes Immer. How could she leave the Company, how could she return to the nQrth, alone? It was closer to her now than .family, more familiar than the rooms of the house where she'd been born.
"Paks, I'm serious. You can't go on the way you have been. Others have noticed already; more will. Get out of this while you still can. Will you?"
"I—I'll have to think—"
"Tonight. We'll be in Sord tomorrow—more of the same, I don't doubt."
Paks found that her eyes were full of tears. She choked down a sob. Stammel gripped her shoulder. "That's what I mean, Paks. You can't keep fighting yourself, as well as an enemy. Tir knows I know you're brave—but no one can fight inside and outside both at once."
"I gave my word," she whispered.
"Yes. You did. And you've already served your term, and more. You've seen Siniava die, which ends that oath, to my mind. I don't think you're running out—and I don't think Arcolin or the Duke will, either. Will you talk to them?"
Paks stared up at the dark sky spangled with stars. Torre's Necklace was just rising out of the distant sea. She thought of the distant past, when she had dreamed of being a soldier and seeing far places, and of the last town they had been through. "I—can't—go into another—"
"No. I agree."
"But it's too late. It—"
His voice was gentle. "Would you if it weren't so late?''
"Oh, I—I don't know. Yes. If the Duke would let me—"
"He will," said Stammel. "Or I don't know Duke Phelan, and I think I do." He called back toward the lines for one of the newcomers. "He'll take your place. Come on. If I know you, you'll convince yourself by morning that you owe it to the Duke to work yourself blind, deaf, and crazy."
The following hour was not as difficult as Paks had feared. Four of the captains had been talking in Arcolin's tent; the others melted away when Stammel asked Arcolin for a few minutes of conference. Arcolin himself looked at Paks steadily, but with no anger or disappointment.
"I had been thinking," he said, "that you were overdue for leave. And this isn't your land of fighting—mine, either, for that. But yes, if you want either leave, or to quit the Company entirely, you have the right to do so. I would hate to see you leave us for good; you've done well, and I know Duke Phelan is pleased with you. Would you consider a year's leave, with the right to return?"
Paks nodded. "Whatever you say, Captain."
"Then we'll speak to the Duke about it. I think you should come, too. He may wish to speak to you about your service."
The Duke also had not gone to bed. His gaze sharpened when he saw Paks behind Arcolin, but he waved them into his tent. Arcolin explained what Paks wanted, and the • Duke gave her a long look.
you displeased with my command, Paksenarrion?"
"No, my lord." She was able to say that honestly. It was not his command, but his alliances, that bothered her.
"I'm glad for that. You have been an honest and trustworthy soldier. I would hate to think I had lost your respect."
"No, my lord."
"I can see that you might well wish to leave for a while. A northern girl—a different way—but do you wish to leave the Company forever, or for a while?"
"I—don't know—I can't imagine living another way, but—"
"How could you? I see. Well, you perhaps should know that the Marshal we met outside Sibili had a discussion with my captains and me—" he glanced at Arcolin, who nodded. "You refused to leave, once—-perhaps this is the right time. You would benefit from advanced training, I think. If you decide to enter another service, I will be glad to recommend you. My own recommendation would be that you seek squire's training somewhere, or the equivalent. You're already good with single weapons—learn horsemanship as well, and you might qualify for knight's training." He stopped, and looked at Arcolin. "She'll need maps for the journey north; I suppose you've already arranged about pay and settlements—"
"Not yet, my lord. She came just this evening."
"Well, then. You might stay with the Company, Paksenarrion, until you have decided how you will travel. The state Aarenis is in, going alone would not be wise. If you can find a caravan—you could hire on as a guard—that might work. Ill be sending someone back to Valdaire a little later, if you wanted to wait—" There was more of this discussion, but none of what Paks had feared. The Duke seemed more tired than anything else, a little distracted, though kind. She shook his hand, and returned to the cohort area with Arcohn, a little let-down at how easy it had been.
Stammel was waiting. "You go on to bed. Tomorrow—"
"But tomorrow is Sord—"
"No. That's the day after. And you won't march with us. I'll have something for you to do."