Fraul, 14

When Fraul opened his eyes, Nathalie stood in front of the curtain, staring at them. He reached out and she came up to the side of the cot, her eyes ranging shamelessly over the valleys of the sheet. He winced when he put an arm out. His back hurt.

“Sleep all right?” he murmured. She nodded.

“What will we do today?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze.

He made sure the blanket covered he and Raru, propped himself onto his elbow, and shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to see the camp.”

He grinned, and reached back to shake Raru awake. The younger man’s eyes blinked open, and when he saw Nathalie he felt a surge of embarrassment. But Fraul was smiling at him, heavy-lidded with a look of supreme contentment.

“My daughter wants to see the camp, Captain,” he said. “And I want her to meet someone.” He put a palm on Tali’s head. “Get a hat, baby. Cold out there. And let us get up.” She huffed, disappearing back behind the curtain.

Raru got up first, pulling on his shirt, pants, his boots. He had always stopped himself from touching Fraul; now he could, and he ran his hands through the older man’s waves of hair, hand on his cheek. “Take her to the sparring ring,” he said. “Erica is manning it this morning. That’s who you want her to meet, right?” Fraul beamed, pulling on his shirt, reaching out for the chair. Raru detached from him reluctantly to hold the chair still.

“What luck,” Fraul was saying as they emerged from behind the curtain. “Come on, darlings.” Tali scrambled off the beanbag chair. Her father found one of Ashin’s hats and wound an old scarf around her neck.

She watched the faces of the two men as Raru nodded goodbye, his eyes lingering on her father. Then he jogged off in the direction of the camp.

“Da,” Tali said. Fraul’s eyes went to her, his cheeks pink in the wintry air. “Why is it so cold here?”

He beamed again. “I don’t know. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

They took his pace through the streets and into the front entrance of the camp. Fraul met eyes with General Crowe, walking between tents with his hands behind his back. The dark-haired general adjusted his pace to wander up beside them.

“Showing our new soldier the camp, are you?” he asked. Fraul laughed.

“I don’t imagine you to be so lenient as General Hill was,” he answered. Crowe shrugged.

“I would not have let Captain Raile in myself,” he murmured. “But no one could refuse her father.”

“Yes, Jonah was charismatic, I hear.” Crowe fell in beside them as they struck a course for the sparring ring. “I never knew, General,” Fraul asked, “how did he die?”

“Areidan raid,” said Crowe. “Right before Erica became a springie.”

“So that’s why Hill allowed her.”

“That, and she held no promise as a lady.” Crowe shared a grin with the former captain. “Can you imagine?”

They heard the shouts and blows from the sparring ring, and Fraul glanced at his daughter. She was craning her neck to see.

“Too much force,” said Erica, hopping the fence in her bare feet. But before she could go on, a low trumpet came from the forest. Fraul swore quietly–he had been having such a good morning. Erica’s eyes slid to General Crowe, and then to the girl between the two approaching men. She vaulted the fence again, picking up her sword as she went, and jogged up to them with her eyes searching his face.

“Take my daughter,” he said, sliding on his rings. “Heath’s.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, belting the blade to her hips, and scooped Nathalie up like a sack of potatoes.

“Da, no!” she called, and her father shook his head.

“Go with her, baby,” he said in Ilcoceum’le. “I’ll be right behind you.” Tali bounced on Erica’s shoulder as the woman ran barefoot across the field. Erica’s heart thundered in her ears. She passed her old captain, who called, “Which way?”

“From the forest,” she said. “Be right there.” Ashin picked up his pace. Nathalie watched him.

“He should have come with us,” she said, her voice shaking, as Erica set her on Heath’s stoop and banged on the door.

“He’ll be fine,” she answered. A horseman appeared out of the forest; an arrow thudded into him, and Erica blocked Tali’s gaze with her body, saying, “He’s not bad with those rings.”

Heath answered. He opened the door wider and Erica ushered the girl inside.

“I’m going back,” she said, and Heath nodded.

“Guess I’ll stay here,” he sighed.

“You’re getting too old for battles anyway.” Her eyes gleamed, and he scoffed and shut the door. Tali crowded against the window and watched the captain toss her sheath onto the grass and take a measured jog toward the fray. Her arms were broad and heavy, still in her sparring clothes, not a ring of armor on her body. A knot of people had formed at the edge of the forest, and clanks of metal echoed across the camp.

Tali could barely see them. Heath, glancing out the window by his desk, crossed the floor to open the door. Her father appeared in the doorway with blood on him. He grinned.

“That was fun,” he said, and she ran to him and jumped up in the chair. The blood was not his own.

“How many?” Heath asked.

“I got a few on my way here.”

“Ashin doing all right?”

Fraul's face darkened. “He looks very far away, Heath. I worry. But he fights fine.”

Heath nodded, and Tali went to sit on the windowsill until the din of battle quieted. People showed up at the healer’s door all bleeding, and soon the house was filled with metallic air. Fraul saw no way to shield his daughter from all this, so she waited beside him while Heath treated them.

“Fraul,” Heath said, and the taller man’s head lifted from his doze. “Come help me. Make room for him.” The men parted for the chair and Fraul rolled up to the cot, putting his hands on the bandage that was gradually turning bright red.

Wilde’s face was pale and his eyes moved behind the lids. Heath clawed around for a poultice in his cabinet and poured it in the man’s mouth, massaged his throat so he would swallow, and took over Fraul’s place to sew him up.

“Someone take him back to the healing tent,” he said, and one of the men with minor injuries stepped up. “And the rest of you who aren’t in life-threatening danger, get back to Leonard. You’re all spoiled for choice and I’m fucking retired.” His eyes pinned one man in place. “You. Bring me Ire.”

“Raru?” Fraul asked.

“Fool was drunk when he shouldn’t have been.”

“Tell me how to help you, Heath.”

“Get the cot cleaned up. Get fresh bandages and keep your daughter out of the way.”

“Tali,” Fraul said quietly, “run and find a bucket. It’s safe out there now.”

She nodded and disappeared outside. She passed a man carrying Raru on her way out and she opened the door for him, and then she sprinted around desperately asking for a bucket in a language they didn’t know.

“Hey, little one,” said Captain Raile in her native tongue. Tali ran to her and clutched her shirt.

“Can you understand me?” she asked. Raile nodded.

“Captain Ire taught me,” she said. “What do you need?”

“A bucket.”

The captain nodded, swooped down and put the girl on her big shoulders, and walked to the healing tent.

“Leonard?” she asked.

“Here,” he called without looking up, bent over a man covered in a sheet.

“Bucket?” she said. He pointed one bloody hand and Erica grabbed it.

“What else did Heath need?” she asked Tali, switching to clumsy Ilcoceum’le. The girl shook her head, eyes wide, so Erica grabbed bandages, suture thread, and a poultice in a red vial.

“Heath working on Raru?” Leonard asked, and she nodded. He passed her a solemn glance and she saluted the men in the tent, ducking out of the tent flap so the girl on her shoulders wouldn’t hit the canvas. She struck a jog for Heath’s cabin and Tali tucked herself low around Erica’s head.

“Captain Iron?” she called. Fraul opened the door and wheeled backwards for them. She set the bucket filled with supplies on the table that had been cleared of notes. Her eyes went to Raru’s pale face, his slackened jaw. She swung Tali off her shoulders.

“C’mon, Nathalie,” she said. “I’m going to teach you some things while your father helps Uncle Heath.”

“Quit calling me that,” Iron snapped, but Erica winked at the young girl. She nodded to Fraul, whose eyes were blank and whose fingers were steepled at his chest.

Erica took his daughter’s hand and led her outside. Men milled around the field, dragging the bodies of horses away by the hooves, and Erica struck a course for the rows of white canvas tents.

“Captain Rolfe?” she asked. “Ashin?”

One of the men who caught her gaze saluted her and said, “At his bunk.”

“Thanks.”

Tali couldn’t understand them, but she saw the deferential flick of the man’s eyes and her gaze went to Erica.

“Ma’am?” she breathed in her own language. Erica’s shining eyes turned down on her.

“Not ma’am,” she said. “Just sir. Or Erica is fine.” She paused, teeth showing in a smile.

“How old are you?”

“Oh, not much older than you,” she joked, and when Tali did not laugh, continued, “I’m twenty-six.”

“Why are you a captain?”

“Well…” Erica checked in her own tent, wiped the blood off her hands, and grabbed a flask that sounded nearly empty. “I worked very hard for a long time.”

“No, I mean…why are you…a captain?”

“You mean, why am I a woman and a captain?” Tali hesitated, unsure if this was an impolite question. They both paused outside of Ashin’s tent, which glowed from the inside.

Erica pursed her lips and glanced down at Tali. “I don’t know, to be honest with you, girlie. My father was a lieutenant. He and the general were friends. And when he died, I wanted to be in the army. And General Hill allowed it.” She shrugged. “I don’t think he thought I would make it this far.”

Tali nodded, and followed when Erica ducked into the tent.

“Hey, sir,” said the older woman to the hooded figure sitting on the lower bunk. She held out the flask and his hands shook as he took it. He flicked a gaze to Tali and downed most of it. He shook himself and handed the liquor back to Erica, and then they were both silent a long time. Erica pulled up a stool and Tali squatted on the ground, breaking twigs in her fingertips. The woman captain took a drink and handed the flask over again.

“I…” His eyes went to Tali and he stopped himself, covering his hesitation with a drink. He shook his head and, speaking accented Ilcoceum’le, asked her, “Were you afraid?”

“Only because my da was.”

“Was he?”

“When Uncle Raru…” Tali paused, looking between them. “Will he be all right?”

“Raru?” Ashin asked, alarm coloring his voice and his eyes flicking to Erica. She said steadily, “Iron’s working on him.”

“Shit,” he muttered, and tipped up the flask. “I told him to quit.”

“Quit?” Erica asked. Ashin nodded, hooking his elbows around his knees, looking tired.

“And with Fraul here,” he sighed. “Damn.” She held out a hand and he passed the flask back. He stood up. “I need to go see him.”

“I wouldn’t, Captain,” Erica said. “Lotta people in there right now. Why I got Tali out.”

Ashin sighed, paused, and sank back onto the cot. His eyes centered dull on the seam where the tent met the ground. He wiped them with the back of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered. “How did he look?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Erica said, flapping her hand. “You all worry so much.” Her eyes passed to Tali and back. “Actually I wanted to teach this one to fight. Interested?”

Ashin shook his head. “I have to…think.”

“About what, sir?” Erica challenged. She stood up, holding out a hand. “C’mon. Just watch us.”

He sighed and clasped her hand. Tali watched the woman heave her captain up, and even he looked surprised when he popped onto his feet.

“So…does this mean I go back to being your lieutenant?” she asked, dusting herself off.

He laughed. “I don’t know, Raile.” Again he razed a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Follow me.” Erica Raile glanced at Tali with a conspiring jump of her eyebrows. “Let’s go show Fraul’s kid how to spar.”

When they reached the empty sparring ring, a fenced pen, Erica vaulted it still barefoot. Ashin rested his elbows on the outside of it, languid, leaning his weight on the fence. He nodded Tali inside, and she scrambled over the fence. Erica put her hands up in a guard and said, “Like this.” Tali copied.

“Now,” said Ashin. “If she were to punch at you…” Erica punched in slow motion, her fist coming to the girl’s face, and she held it there. “What do you do?”

Tali ducked. Both captains nodded, not noticing the wheels behind them. Tali saw her father’s face, dirty and bloodied, smiling. Erica followed her gaze and turned around. Tali ducked under Erica’s outstretched arm and grabbed it, unsure of what she was doing but knowing she knew a grapple or two. Fraul clapped his palms together and said, “Twist her hand toward you, dear.”

Tali did, until Erica’s hand was upside-down, and then she applied pressure. Erica pushed gently into the grapple, which hurt, but eventually gave Tali no recourse but to let go. Erica was grimacing.

“Wrist locks,” she muttered. “I hate them, Fraul.”

“Awful, aren’t they?” His voice was cheerful. Ashin almost smiled.

Erica kept her arm outstretched, moving in slow motion for Tali’s sake. Tali considered for a moment, and then punched toward Erica’s face. Her arms wouldn’t quite reach.

“Go for the ribs,” Erica said. “You’re short enough. Put your weight into it.”

Sure enough, Erica’s ribs were wide open. Tali struck with her other fist into the woman’s ribcage; her knuckles thudded against bone, muscle, and linen.

Erica coughed. Fraul clapped lightly. Tali smiled and shook out her fist as Erica stepped back.

“You’re not bad,” she said. “You remind me of me.”

“I think she reminds all of us of you.” Ashin’s smile widened. “Weren’t you around her age when you came here?”

“Maybe. And fourteen, when I met you and Wood,” she said. Fraul whistled low.

“Lord, I am old,” he murmured. Erica and Tali wandered to the side of the ring, and Tali copied how Erica leaned on the fence.

Ashin glanced at Tali, her hair pulled back in a leather thonged-ponytail. He reached out, gathered Erica’s hair up with his hands, and looked at Fraul, who smiled and shook his head.

“You imagine too much, Captain,” he said, his arms dangling through the fence. Erica batted her captain’s hands away with a grin and pulled her own hair back, elbows lifting above her shoulders, her biceps bunching up. Her nose wrinkled.

“I need to cut it,” she said, glancing at Tali, letting the hair fall. “‘Specially if there’s a war on.”

“What, cut your hair just for a war?” Ashin ran a hand over the tassel of shoulder-length hair at the nape of his neck. He and Erica fell in step with each other, and Tali walked beside her father as each one’s feet turned toward the meal tent. She swerved to join them, and Ashin led the way to a table that sat Leonard and Heath, speaking quietly. Raru’s seat was empty.

Ashin nodded, Erica nodded, and so Tali nodded. She glanced over at her father. He nudged her onto the bench seat and took a place at the end of it.

Heath nodded to Fraul, and he and Leonard turned their elbows toward him. Heath’s eyes went to Nathalie with a single raised brow.

“They were sparring,” said Fraul. Leonard sat back with height in his face.

“Really, now?” he said. “And how did you do, Tali?”

“Fine,” she said. Heath snorted and Ashin looked up from his plate. Erica was digging into her food with the intensity of a wolverine and was deaf to them. Tali continued, “I punched her.” She wasn’t sure if she would get in trouble for this. But they grinned.

“Lord knows Raile deserves it,” said Heath.

“She may bruise,” said Fraul proudly. Erica grunted, “Uh-huh,” with her mouth full. Fraul picked at his plate and asked, “How is Raru?”

The table quieted. Erica’s eyes flicked up and Heath shrugged.

“S’fine,” he said. “It’s not the wound that’s going to kill him.”

Her father sighed. “Why this time?” he asked. “Ashin?”

Ashin chewed, leaning his elbows on the table. He tossed his cloth napkin onto the plate and shrugged.

“I think Raru gets bored easily,” he said. “I think he knows there’s a war on and that people are less likely to notice.” His dark eyes went to Fraul. “Among other things.”

Everyone’s eyes went to Fraul–whose brow wrinkled, casting a disbelieving glance around the bench.

“I am the last person who would cause Raru to drink,” he said quietly.

Ashin glanced at Heath, who said, “It isn’t noticeable to anyone else.” By his tone, there was no issue to be discussed.

They all went back to eating, one by one. When Tali and Fraul got up to leave, Ashin–who had finished and was speaking with Leonard–got up too. He walked beside the former captain and, when they were out of the tent, he said, “I only meant…I’ve never seen him like this.”

“You shouldn’t draw attention to us that way, Ashin. It’s dangerous. I know it wouldn’t be dangerous in Bazair. But here it is.” Ashin paused in surprise, practically jogging to keep up with the wheelchair. He said, “Then you…you…”

Fraul gave him a pointed look. Ashin hid his smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you both felt this way.”

“Raru didn’t tell you?”

“Oh, he did.” Ashin felt some guilt. “I didn’t believe him.”

“You must cut me some slack sometimes.” Fraul sighed. “I am afraid for him. He’s going to a war and I can’t follow.”

“I know the feeling. He’s like family to me.”

“Yes.” Fraul rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

Ashin gave him a wolfish grin and opened Heath’s door for him. Nathalie went in first. The two men behind her glanced at each other and filed in one by one.

Raru sat up on one elbow, grinning, sober. “Look who it is,” he said. Fraul’s eyes roved over him, careful, and then to the layer of muslin around his shoulder blade and breast. He clicked his tongue.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Raru said. “It was just an arrow.”

Ashin folded his arms and leaned against the wall. They were the only three in the cabin. Fraul felt Raru looking between them, each of whom remained silent. Raru finally sighed and said, “Spit it out. I want to go back to sleep.”

Fraul and Ashin spoke at the same time, stopped, and looked at each other. Fraul sighed delicately and asked, “Why don’t you allow drinking in the company?”

“Who said that?”

“No one important. Why not?”

Raru scowled. “Who put you up to this?” he asked, and Fraul scowled back at him.

“No one,” he snapped. “And you know I’ve never said a thing. But I never said a thing because you functioned. And Ashin…”–now he turned a dangerous look on Ashin–“thinks that it has something to do with me.”

“I never said that,” Ashin sighed. “I just know…that you don’t deal with stress, Raru. At all.”

Fraul’s lips pressed together. This was true. Raru rolled his eyes but he was tired and annoyed.

“So?” he prodded, but the two men were speaking to each other.

“You think I cause him stress?” Fraul asked. “He’s the one going off to every battle with a flask in his pocket.”

Ashin shook his head and looked at Raru, his face hollow, no energy for argument. Raru frowned.

“Go sleep, brother,” he muttered. “You look as bad as me.”

Ashin glanced at Fraul, whose face betrayed nothing. Then he put a hand on Raru’s arm and ghosted out of the cabin, pale and silent.

*

In a few weeks Raru was walking again, and Fraul watched with envy. He went to the healer one day and said, “What would it take for me to walk, Heath?”

“A whole lot of free time,” said Heath.

“Be serious, now.”

“Well,” the healer sighed, “After the companies leave for Areidas, we’ll have time to burn. If you really want to do it, fine. But I’m not gonna make a whole brace for you so you can give up halfway through.”

Fraul gave him a steady look, and one corner of Heath’s mouth tweaked upward. “Wanted to say something anyway,” he said.

When the companies left, even General Crowe, Raru said goodbye as if it was any other day. He gripped Fraul’s upper arm, and then he withdrew and held onto the pommel of his sword instead. He nodded to Heath as the door closed behind him; he turned up the flask as soon as he could.

Wanting a distraction, Fraul took his coffee cup and leaned over the table. “All right,” he said. “What do I do?”

Heath tapped a pencil on the paper. “I need you to go into town, get to Raile’s smithy, and buy me these bolts. If you think you can manage it, that is.” His eyes turned wicked. Fraul scoffed and swiped up the paper, stuffing it into his front pocket.

“Goodbye, Heath,” he said. The other man laughed as the door swung closed.