Agent of the Crown (28 page)

“But if the passes are closed, you don’t have
to be as worried about attacks, right?”

“We don’t worry about attacks at all. Never
seen the Ruskalder put so much as a nose hair past the edge of
Thorsten Pass.” Hardy leaned back against the wall, apparently not
remembering how he’d railed against the wet moments before, because
dampness had begun to spread across the stones of the tower. “All
these weapons shipments, they’re a waste of time if you ask me. New
weapons every year when we haven’t even fired the old ones.”

“They probably send the old ones to other
forts,” Telaine said. She snapped the case back into place and set
it well to one side. It took three times as long to disassemble and
reassemble a weapon as it did to make the repair, and with all the
guns being identical, she didn’t want to open one and find she’d
already fixed it.

“Probably,” said Hardy. He realized his back
was wet and cursed, then apologized.

“So are all these towers full of weapons?”
Telaine asked.

Hardy laughed. “Not hardly. Food, dry
rations, clothing and blankets, armor and helmets. Stuff to take us
through the winter. The storage towers are bursting at the seams
these days, just before the passes close.”

“That makes sense.” The young man had to be
wrong. Based on the letters she’d found, Harroden was sending far
too many shipments up the mountain to fit into the locked storeroom
at the manor, however big it was. Some of those shipments were
undoubtedly in the fort’s towers. Though if she was right about
Hardy’s loyalties, his ignorance made sense; Captain Clarke would
disapprove strenuously of his fort being used to store the Baron’s
black market goods.

So the captain believed these were all
legitimate shipments; what did he think of the ones that went out
again, to be sold in Highton or possibly Silverfield? Not only
wasn’t she finding answers, she kept finding new questions.

Telaine closed up another gun. Eight left in
this crate. Thirty-nine crates to go. If she’d actually cared about
this job, she’d have curled up and died inside to think of the
tedium. She cast about for another innocuous but telling question.
“The Baron seems deeply involved in the fort’s affairs,” she
said.

It was the wrong question. Hardy went stiff.
“Not my place to comment on my superior officer, not that he is,”
he said.

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” she said. “Only
the other day he and Captain Clarke were talking, and it sounded
like—”

“Not my place to comment,” Hardy said. “Don’t
poke your nose in the Baron’s affairs, is my advice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Telaine said, and
repaired five more guns in silence. She already knew Clarke didn’t
have the control over his soldiers and his fort that he ought to
have, and that he and the Baron didn’t agree on things. But Hardy
made it sound as if the Baron’s involvement was more serious than
the superficially civil conversation she’d heard the other day
suggested. Was he afraid to talk about it for his own sake, or for
his captain’s? Either way, she needed to regain his trust. It was
possible she could get him to open up over time.

“Do you know where you’ll be stationed next,
Lieutenant?” she asked, and guided him into a conversation about
postings he’d had and the ones he liked best, and did he have a
girlfriend, and how did his family feel about his joining the
military. The tension between them dissipated, and Telaine relaxed,
feeling Lieutenant Hardy might turn out to be a valuable asset
after all.

By the time she finished the first crate, it
was dinnertime and Telaine was ravenous. She discovered, almost too
late, that no provision had been made for her meal. She trekked
back down the valley, telling herself she’d get Maida to make her
up a box dinner next time; it was too far to walk back and
forth.

She devoured her food and raced back up to
the fort, and managed to finish another two crates as darkness
fell. She’d never walked alone down the valley after dark, and even
though the rain had stopped, it was still cold and she wasn’t
wearing a cloak or even a jacket. When she realized someone else
was on the road, approaching her, she had to control her panic.
Morgan. He wouldn’t be on foot, but who else could it
be?

“I’d started to worry about where you were,”
said Ben. “Knew you weren’t dressed warm enough, and then it got
dark.” He put a coat, and then his arm, around her shoulders. “You
are
cold,” he said, touching her cheek. His hand felt like a
brand, it was so hot. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

She leaned into his embrace, too tired to
think. “It’s been a long day,” she said. “I think I need some
warmer clothes. Didn’t reckon I’d be in Longbourne this long.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry you’re still here,” he
replied. He steered her down the road and into the tavern, where he
asked Maida for some whiskey. Telaine sat at a table and laid her
head down on her folded arms. “Sit up and drink this,” Ben said,
sliding his hand under her cheek and lifting her head. She drank,
sputtered, and the world came back into focus.

Maida slid a plate of roasted chicken breast
and boiled carrots in front of her, handed her a fork and knife.
Telaine thought she could eat the plate as well, she was that
hungry. She ate in silence, feeling Ben’s amused eyes on her.
“Don’t know what you think is so funny,” she mumbled through a
mouthful of carrots.

“Never seen anyone go at their food quite so
determined,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’ve been taking apart guns and putting them
back together all day. I’m starving.” She cut off some chicken and
took an enormous bite.

“Guns?”

She nodded. “Damaged shipment. Baron wants me
to fix ’em rather than waste time sending ’em back.”

“Don’t you think that’s the sort of thing
their captain would decide?”

It was exactly what she’d been thinking, but
she couldn’t tell him she was spying on the Baron to find things
like that out. “I suppose,” she said, “but the captain and the
Baron sound like they have an arrangement.”

“You want more to eat, Lainie?” Maida said,
setting down a mug of beer. “Here’s something to wash it down
with.”

Telaine took a long drink. She was full,
warm, and happy. She looked up at Maida, who seemed concerned. And
Ben had worried enough to come looking for her. The whiskey welled
up into tears she had to choke down. “You are both being so nice to
me,” she said. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” Maida said with a
shrug, and went back to the bar. Ben took Telaine’s free left hand,
removed the fork from her right and grasped that hand too.

“I think you should know,” he said in a low
voice, his eyes never leaving hers, “that I will always come after
you.”

There went the tears again. One whiskey and
half a beer shouldn’t be enough to leave her a weepy drunk, right?
“I promise not to make you do it too often,” she said.

He smiled at her, that wonderful, brilliant
smile. “Don’t know if it’s good or bad that I made you cry.”

“They’re good tears,” she said. She knew she
had the sappiest grin on her face, but she didn’t care.

He squeezed her hands. “Wish we had someplace
private to go,” he said. “Getting too cold outside for the
lake.”

“You have a house,” she pointed out.

He smiled again, but shook his head. “Too
hard for me to remain a gentleman, there,” he said.

He was worried about being a gentleman. He’d
come looking for her in the dark. He’d held the door for her and
stood up to a giant for her. He was almost too good to be true.

“Lainie? Are you all right?” Ben’s smile fell
away. “You just had the strangest expression. Did I—should I not
have suggested that…” He took a drink of her beer. “I don’t want
you to think I want anything from you we shouldn’t do—”

She reclaimed her hand and laid it across his
cheek. “I know,” she said. “But I love that you find me desirable.
I trust you, Ben.”

He turned his face enough to kiss her hand.
“I want to be worthy of your trust.”

Almost too good to be true.

“Lainie, are you all right? You’ve still got
that strange look.”

“Better than all right,” she said. “Will you
walk me home?”

“Why are those crates out in the open,
lieutenant?”

Hardy glanced across the yard. “Too big to
fit into storage, likely.”

“Do you know what’s in them?”

His lips thinned. “Baron’s private stuff. Too
big for the manor, too.”

She’d have to tread carefully. “Well, I hope
whatever’s in them is waterproof. Didn’t know it’d be so rainy
today.”

Hardy unbent when he realized she wasn’t
going to press him about their contents. “They’ve been coming up
the mountain all summer, every couple of weeks. Got the Baron’s
name on ’em but they always come straight here.”

“I’ve been to the manor. You’re right, they
wouldn’t fit through any of the doors.” She put together one last
gun and stretched. “I think I’m getting faster. Don’t tell anyone,
but this is really boring work.” Hardy, whose job of watching her
was even more boring, grinned at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow,
lieutenant. Maybe I can teach you how to take these apart, make the
work go faster.”

“I don’t know, Miss Bricker, I’m all thumbs
on both my hands.”

“Don’t be surprised if you’re better than you
think.”

She returned the next morning and went
straight to what she now thought of as her tower, but Lieutenant
Hardy wasn’t there to meet her. She leaned against the door and
waited for five minutes before becoming impatient. If Captain
Clarke weren’t so fixated on regulations, she wouldn’t need to wait
on Hardy to do her job. She caught herself. Repairing guns was not
her job. Finding the contraband was.

She wandered through the keep, acting as if
she had a right to be there, and every time she passed near one of
the towers, she surreptitiously tugged on the iron ring of its door
handle. But the doors never budged. She reached the end of the row
and turned around, still sauntering. Ahead, she saw Captain Clarke
entering the fort and heading straight for the stone keep. He was
walking like he wanted to tear into someone. Telaine moved faster.
The captain would know what had happened to Hardy.

She passed the soldiers, who ignored her as
usual, and slipped inside. Two people were arguing loudly—Captain
Clarke and the Baron. She grabbed the door and eased it silently
shut, though it was unlikely they could hear it over the sound of
their shouting.

“Hardy’s transfer wasn’t due for another six
months!”

“Were you going to stand in the way of a good
soldier’s good fortune?”

“It’s that good fortune I question. Hardy was
one of my best men. Why did you sign off on his transfer? That’s my
responsibility!”

“What are you alleging, captain?”

“Only what I’ve suspected all this time. You
want control of this post and you’re willing to transfer away men
loyal to me to get that control.”

“Careful what you say, captain. You’re
accusing me of disloyalty. I only want what’s best for this
command.”

“
I
decide what’s best for this
command, milord. You’re the civilian government representative
who’s to provide support.”

“Unless the military commander is unfit for
the role.”

“Are you saying I’m unfit?”

“Take a look around, captain.” The Baron’s
voice was the vicious snarl she’d heard him use against Harroden.
“The men are slovenly and disrespectful. They don’t drill and they
don’t maintain their weapons. If you were the commander you say you
are, you’d have this place running like a Device. Tell me, at whose
door should I lay this monstrous abrogation of responsibility? Do
you think
anyone
will believe you are not an incompetent
clown when I bring these matters to the attention of General
Riesland?”

There was a pause. “Milord, I will resign my
commission as soon as a replacement can be found.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, man. You were a sharp
commander when you came here three years ago. I believe you can be
such again.” The voice had gone from vicious to silky smooth. “And
I see no reason why we shouldn’t work together to bring the fort
back into shape.”

Another pause, then Clarke said, wearily,
“What do you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you start with regular drills? Let
me handle the supply side of things, the non-military side. You’ll
have your hands full with the men.”

“What about Hardy? I don’t want to see any
more good men transferred out of here. I depended on him to keep
order with the enlisted men.”

“Don’t worry, captain. I promise you won’t
need to worry about it anymore.”

That sounded like her cue to make her
presence known. Telaine opened the door a crack and closed it as
noisily as she could, strode out of the passageway and stopped as
if surprised to see them there. “I beg your pardon, milord,
captain,” she said. “I couldn’t find Lieutenant Hardy so I came
here looking for him.”

“Lieutenant Hardy received an early
transfer,” Captain Clarke said, trying and failing to conceal his
anger. “I’ll find you another guide.”

“Now, surely that’s not necessary,” the Baron
said with a smile. It revolted Telaine that he could act so
friendly after being so vicious to the captain. “Miss Bricker has
more than demonstrated her loyalty, and I see no reason she
shouldn’t be allowed to work unsupervised. Don’t you agree,
captain?” His voice remained pleasant, but Telaine could see the
look he gave Clarke, and it had knives in it.

“Very well,” Clarke said woodenly. He handed
her the huge iron key. “Get on with your work, Miss Bricker.”

“And I will get on with mine,” said the
Baron. “I believe these supply manifests need organizing. Yes, Miss
Bricker, I realize it’s not exactly a task befitting nobility,” he
said, misinterpreting her appalled look, “but it’s just another way
I can serve my kingdom.”