I am hag-ridden by goddesses..." said Shanna of Sharteyn, downing another beaker of Karna ale. "And I wish they'd damn well leave me alone!"
"Don't trouble the gods, and they won't bother you, that's my theology--" Rufo Beltorix grinned and refilled her cup, then began to rattle the dice once more.
Shanna sighed. The gods didn't give you much choice, sometimes. Still, Rufo was a good lad--she surveyed the men in the tavern through an ale-gold haze--they were all good lads. The Second Equestrian Wing of the Fifth Legion, the "Emperor's Own" were a fine outfit, with the dents of the last Dorian campaign still in their armor. They filled the taproom at the White Horse tavern in Kama, breastplates of polished bronze gleaming beneath their green plumes.
Shanna fingered a loose rivet in the quilted red leather shirt she wore over her gilded under-mail, and thought that she had taken a few dents in her own journey southward, and would likely acquire a few more before she reached Bindir.
When I find my brother--if I ever do find my brother--she thought morosely, he won't recognize me! She had left Sharteyn as the daughter of a princely house, but though she might look a little young for a mercenary, only the black braids coiled around her head marked her as a woman now.
"How long were you in Bindir?" she asked, as Rufo spilled the dice across the scarred table. He sat back, clasping his hands behind his head. He was a big, raw-boned man with red hair--northern blood there, thought Shanna--maybe a father from the Misty Isles.
"Three moons. We were hoping for a longer duty, but there's some trouble in Mesith..." He watched the dice spin to stillness and grinned. "You buy the next round, and tell me what you're doing here."
"I'm a Caravan guard--" she signaled the bargirl, then considered him carefully. No need to tell him the whole story of how she had joined Bercy's caravan after the plague at Otey, or how the older woman had developed from an employer into a friend. "Working my way down to Bindir. I'm looking for a man called Janos ban Artinor, or he might have called himself Janos of Sharteyn. He left on a mission to the Emperor four years ago, never came home again."
Rufo whistled. "The Imperial Court! High doings indeed!"
"Don't know why I'm asking you," muttered Shanna. "You likely never got beyond the guardhouse." She watched him from the corner of her eye. This was the opportunity she had hoped for when she heard that the Wing had come from Bindir. But she had not expected to have to drink quite so much ale.
"The Second took its turn at Palace guard! I've been this close to Baratir," he held apart his palms, "and there's always gossip..."
"Well, did you hear anything?" She blinked up at him.
"Might have." Rufo rattled the dice-cup suggestively. "Was he a big man, dark like you, laughs when he's fighting?"
"Tell me!"
He shook his head, grinning. "Now, now, Shanna, love--I don't give anything away! Throw you for it, though...."
Shanna shook her head, too hazed to even resent what he had called her. She pulled her pouch inside out, then realized that the rest of her money had gone to pay for the last round.
"No more coin?" Rufo asked. "Well, if you lose, you could spend the night with me..."
That got through. Shanna pulled herself upright, glaring.
"I don't give it away, and I don't sell it, either, horse-boy! Choose again!"
"Meant no insult--" he said mildly. "If I can't ride you, then how about your pretty mare? Saw her when you came in. My own nag's gone lame, and we're off somewhere in the morning. Suppose I borrow your little lady for this campaign?"
Shanna stared. Let someone else ride Calur?
Roll for it--Fortune is with you.... She could hear the Voice distinctly, and shook her head again, wondering just how drunk she was. Go on, all will be well!
"For a battle?"
"I don't think so--just a little clean-up job. But she's battle-trained, isn't she?"
"Yes, of course, but--" Shanna began, then shut her mouth, remembering some of the fights they had come through. "I trained her myself. She's never been apart from me."
"How much do you want my information?" Rufo asked.
To find Janos! That had been her goal for three years, and this was the first real clue she had had!
"I need more proof." She took another drink of ale.
"Does the man you're looking for wear a medallion with a phoenix on it--ruby eyes set in gold?"
"All right," Shanna capitulated suddenly. "High number takes it--now roll!"
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