Surprises
“Message... Rigel”, Aidan read off the semaphore flags. “From... Antonio... rider... full... text.” He turned to the Earl. “So Antonio sent you a written message and Ryan’s sending it with a rider.”
“Ryan’s right”, Rigel muttered. “We need a telephone.”
“And if you had telephones, you’d complain they weren’t cell phone”, Rita pointed out, teasing just a little. “Be glad that a year ago you would have ridden off not even knowing that something important was coming.”
Rigel sighed. “That you, Miss Perspective. Now I can ride off wondering what was so important Antonio couldn’t get it short enough for the semaphore.” He looked around. “But we’re not going to just wait – a messenger can catch us.”
They’d just reached the border stones of the Valley when Oran laughed. “Flags again!” he called out. Turning, Rigel saw that the semaphore arms were indeed moving again.
“Hey – why are they passing the message if I’m right here?” he asked.
“Maybe this one isn’t for you”, Lumina countered.
“The last one was, and Aidan read it from the lodge tower.”
“They weren’t sure how far we’d gotten?” Austin guessed.
“Ryan should know I wouldn’t rush the – oh. He didn’t know we would be stopping at the Stone for more than half a day.” Rigel kicked himself mentally. “Point to Austin.”
Aidan had read the message, of course. “Misfit says please go slow, there’s a package coming for you, lord Rigel.”
“Gee, you get all the attention!” Oran quipped. “I know how to go slow, boss Earl.”
Rigel refused to be baited. “Really? How’s that?”
“We ride a bit, then stop for second breakfast, just like Hobbits.”
“What’s a Hobbit?” Aidan asked, provoking gales of laughter.
“Cute”, Rigel said finally. “I have another idea. Captain Tanner!”
Gavin had none of Lumina’s distaste for Healing animals. “It’s a torn muscle”, he announced to the five who were holding the injured horse still. “Best I give it a little nap.” He actually smiled at the mare as he patted her head, then stroked between her ears. By the time his finger reached her nose, she was resting peacefully. “Now, men”, he said in his best “I’m in charge” voice, “the idea is to shift the leg so the muscles are where they belong, and then hold it. So....” He set his hands on the large flank, his breathing slowed. “Lift”, he called quietly. “More... tiny more... now forward, toward the head... too far! Back... tiny back... hold. Drop a nail... hold. That’s good – don’t let it move”, he instructed, his voice fading to a whisper at the end.
“Lend a hand”, Rigel ordered Austin, at the sight of one of the men wincing. He went as well, kneeling on one knee and lifting the other to just touch the underside of the leg. “A bit more, lord”, the man nearest requested. Rigel wiggled his foot forward, taking more pressure on his knee. “Beauty”, the man declared.
“We need a better way to do this”, Austin complained. He’d been there over five minutes since joining in, and Gavin still sat motionless, barely breathing, his torc hardly glowing at all.
“I know one”, Rigel declared. “Don’t hold war games on rough ground and get horses hurt.” Austin grinned; it was the sort of thing he might have said.
“But it’s not a good one.” Men stiffened as Tanner came over. “Chill, people”, he ordered. “You’re working.”
“How’s the other horse?” Rigel asked.
“Just dazed. Renn’s worried there will be bruising. He want–“ Tanner froze as the torc on Gavin’s neck flared, not in intense brilliance like Lumina’s, but in a soft, full cloud of light. Down in the cloud brilliant fire danced briefly before the light died. Gavin fell back and sprawled on the grass.
“That’s a lot of muscle!” he gasped. “Gods! Tea, someone... lots of honey....” He lay there a handful of seconds, then lifted his head again. “Yes, Captain Tanner, I can deal with bruises. I can deal with them sooner if the horse can come to me.” Tanner nodded to one of the men, who took off.
He sat by Rigel. “Just because men or horses get hurt doesn’t mean you don’t train. This was a good idea: it was an unplanned exercise in not-truly-familiar terrain. They had to think fast. And the riflemen need to remember that their ammo is limited.” His grin reminded Rigel of the very early Tanner, before his fanatic side rose up. “Did you see their faces when you said they’d just fought a band of barbarians and had no ammo left?”
Rigel nodded. “A few just raised eyebrows and accepted it. Some looked disgusted. Most were a little unhappy.”
Tanner nodded agreement. “The ones who raised their eyebrows and accepted will end up as officers. Those who can’t handle or get upset at surprises don’t have what it takes.”
“Hmm – I get upset at surprises.” Rigel raised his left eyebrow, curious about what response he’d get.
“Fair enough”, Tanner responded. “But you’ve never failed to act when it was needed. So just getting upset isn’t a full measure.” He looked thoughtful. After a long moment he grinned. “There goes my promotion chart!”
“No biggie”, Rigel assured him. “I’m not planning any big wars for a while, anyway.”
“Like next month”, Austin quipped.
The injured horses were on their feet again fifteen minutes later. Gavin ordered that neither was to carry anything the rest of the day, so loads got rearranged. While that was happening, Tanner led a discussion among leftenants and squad leaders about how the mock battle had gone. Rigel interrupted at one point.
“No, you had a better solution. Two things: you’re thinking of your force as a herd of horses, and you’re still acting like you have range weapons. In a situation like that, you want to close with the enemy, then dash away; close, then dash away. They’re trying to defend, so they’re stationary; your mobility gives you the advantage – you dash in, inflict some wounds, avoid any of your own, and before they can recover, you do it again.”
“What if they come out and engage?” a rifleman asked.
“You don’t”, Rigel replied. “You still dash and slash, dash and slash.”
“Would that work against Quistadors?” someone else asked.
Rigel grinned. “Tell me the difference.”
“Quistadors have armor, and the knights use lances.”
“So?”
“Slashing against armor isn’t effective unless you get close. You get close, their swords are heavier. And a lance will keep you from getting close because you have to dodge it.”
Counters to that popped up in Rigel’s mind like gophers in a Bop-A-Mole at the carnival. He picked just one, starting by whistling for Tornado. “What does a lancer aim for?” he asked.
“Your shield or chest.”
“Okay.” Rigel mounted, and drew his sword. “I’m heading in, trying to slash. He’s coming at me with a lance. I raise my sword – right?” Heads nodded. “That makes me a wonderful target. But since I have a well-trained horse, when his lance comes down and we’re closing hard, I do this.” Rigel lay back and rolled left at the same time, swinging his sword around in front of Tornado, clear across the horse’s chest. Getting back up was harder.
He laughed at himself. “That’s a lot easier when you’re moving, actually. Anyway – what did I do?” He picked a hand.
“You got him to commit his lance, then removed his target. Since he’s committed, he’s basically unable to maneuver. Then you swung your blade around far enough to reach his mount. Are you trying to wound his horse?”
“Actually, I hope not”, Rigel answered. “Anyone?”
“You wouldn’t hit his horse, anyway – your sword isn’t over far enough. At that height, you’re probably going to hit his knee.”
“Then what happens?”
“Well you can’t aim well, but you’ve got all the power of the charge, so if you actually hit his knee, you could crush it.”
Rigel nodded. “Possible. But if all I do is jam it....?”
“He becomes less... nimble. A knight’s mobility depends on his knees.
One man was looking troubled. Rigel pointed to him. “Lord, I don’t think I could do that”, he admitted.
“Good!” Rigel responded. “Not everyone can – maybe not many can. I just know that it can be done. That’s the sort of thing you try on nice soft ground with great care.” He looked the group over. “To manage it, you have to be strong, tall, and slender – and have a wrist like a blue oak branch. But: the point is that there are ways to counter about anything the Quistadors have. They’re heavy cavalry with badly trained foot. You’re light cavalry, and movement is your advantage. You can’t stand and receive a charge of lances, and you can’t charge against one if you’re playing by their rules.”
“So what’s lord Rigel’s real lesson here?” asked Tanner. He picked hands one by one, one brief answer each.
“Use your advantages.”
“Don’t go against their strengths.” Rigel was impressed by that one.
“Lots of little wounds to them that leave you whole are better than big wounds that make you bleed.”
“Don’t let them set the rules.”
The last responder was grinning. “Make your wrist like blue oak.”
Tanner laughed with the rest. “All right – enough. Lord, what’s the plan now?”
“I’m tired of this spot – let’s ride.” When the men had gone to claim their mounts, he asked Tanner, “Trained them in any close formations?”
“Semaphore!” Hedraing called. He noticed it first because he’d decided to ride backwards to get a different perspective on traveling.
Aidan turned in the saddle. “Rider... lodge. Rider... two... S... V...”, he read. When nothing more came, he rode up the column to Rigel. “New message, lord. The message rider is at the Lodge, the other has passed Servant Village.”
“Thanks, Aidan.” They were two hours past from the boundary. The rider could get a fresh horse at the lodge, and catch them in.... about two more hours. He turned to Austin.
“Okay, squire, you were right – we should have taken time to visit my new castle.”
“But we’re having fun, right?” Austin teased.
Rita laughed at the look on Rigel’s face. “Lighten up, my lord Earl”, she said, teasing him with his newly accepted title. “Just think – we’re going back to the savanna, the land of grasses and groves, the realm of lurking gr’venstut–“
“Gr’venstut don’t ‘lurk’, m’lady”, Oran put in.
“What’s this ‘m’lady’ from you, Scout Two?” Rita queried.
Rigel could tell she was a tiny bit irritated, and laughed. “Oran, thank you! Rita, if I’m ‘m’lord Earl’, you’re certainly ‘m’lady’. A Wise Woman definitely has to be a noble position, right?” Lowered eyebrows marked her suspicion. “But if that’s not good enough for you... let’s see – how about ‘Baroness de Luca – has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”
“At least a baronness”, Austin affirmed solemnly – or it would have been solemn if he’d kept his face straight.
"Make her the Duchess of Erat”, Chen suggested, drawn by the laughter.
“The duchess of what?” Rigel and Rita said together. They looked at each other and laughed.
Chen looked at the sky with a sigh. “David Eddings,
The Belgariad”, he told them. “Lady Polgara the Sorceress–“
“Ryan read that”, Rigel interrupted. “I didn’t. You, Rita?”
She shook her head. “It sounded fun, though. I just never got around to it.”
Chen nodded knowingly. “Too busy being wise, I suppose.” He and Oran looked at each other and nodded solemnly. Austin put on a somber face and nodded with them.
Rita burst into laughter. “You three stop that!” Rigel decided that was the moment to join them.
Rita’s equestrian skills weren’t good enough for her to reach over and slap him, but she tried anyway. “She’s going to slip”, Chen predicted. “Definitely – yes, there she goes”, Oran observed. Rigel caught her, and for a moment she leaned into a gap between the two horses. “Assistance, please?” he called to Austin. The squire knew what was needed; he guided Titanium up against Hestia, preventing her from shying away as Rigel moved Tornado against her other side and got Rita back into the saddle.
“Better, m’lady?” he asked innocently.
Rita laughed. “Better, m’lord.” She pretended to dust herself off. “Now let’s behave – what will the servants think?”
“We brought servants?” Austin stood up in his stirrups and looked at the column behind.
“Airein”, Rigel responded to his squire’s tease.
“He’s a page!”
“A page is a sort of servant”, Rita pointed out. “And you also brought a certain... he’s a bedwarmer, isn’t he, m’lord Rigel?” Austin didn’t blush; he just blinked, then laughed with the rest of them.
“Rider coming!” The cry came from the column’s rear patrol and was passed up the line. Rigel heard it before it “officially” got to him.
“Time for a halt”, he declared. “Tanner, draw up the men for review – I don’t even know exactly what you’ve brought. Hedraing, let’s do your ‘aching butt’ prevention before we set off again. Chen, Oran, I know we’re familiar with the territory, but check out the area.” Lumina was already out of her saddle and walking along asking about blisters or any other problems, and Gavin was asking about the horses. First Squad of the Mounted Rifles had spread out at their leftenant’s command to guard the perimeter. Rigel sighed in satisfaction; they weren’t quite a well-oiled machine, but by the time the expedition reached unknown territory, they would be. “And just in case, let’s make this a council for that message.”
Rigel stared at Rita stared at Rigel. Chen whistled silently, Oran kept almost laughing, while Austin sat with his mouth open. Tanner looked thoughtful, as did Hedraing and Lumina. “Aidan, read that again”, Rigel requested.
“‘Casey found twenty-four gold doubloons, which are worth about the same as a dozen houses like the one I bought. A doubloon is an excelente, the highest gold coin, except with Ferdinand and Isabella on them.’”
Chen chuckled. “He bought a house, and inside he finds enough gold to buy a dozen more. Brilliant.”
“I’m still getting used to him having a townhouse”, Rigel said. “He was just going to check things out – what the heck happened?!”
“It doesn’t say”, Rita pointed out. “No use guessing. Aidan, what’s next?”
“Ferdinand and Isabel– here: ‘In the same place was a sword, which comes from the House of Aragon. The Inquisition wiped them out, excep–“
“Aragon was one of the original kingdoms of Spain!” Rita exclaimed, interrupting. “One of them got Snatched?!!”
“Obviously”, Chen commented. “And for some reason the Inquisition decided they should die – nice of them.”
“Antonio....” Rigel pounded his right fist into his left palm. He looked across the circle at Rita. “I know he was trying to give just the essentials, but... aarrrgh!” He bashed his fist against his forehead.
Rita chuckled. “Poor Rigel. Look, lord Earl-type person” – Chen grinned at her use of his way of saying things – “Antonio sent what he thinks we need to know. Why he bought a house probably doesn’t affect your mission here. How they found the coins doesn’t either. Aidan, keep reading – I bet Rigel will learn why they things Antonio told us so far are important... to
us.”
“Yes, m’lady.” After the “m’lord” and “m’lady” conversation earlier, that address for Rita had caught on. “‘The Inquisition wiped them out, except some children, who the last lord of d’Aragon sent south with some merchant to some land where he had friends. That’s all I know right now, because the book the information is in is too old to open any more yet. I sent this because you’re going south and might want to know.’”
Rita’s eyes were wide but she still managed to favor Rigel with a mild “I told you so!” glance. Oran and Chen turned to look at each other with big grins; it wasn’t hard to guess they were thinking that this meant lots of exploring and scouting. Austin sat grinning at the expression on Rigel’s face.
“People to the south....”, the Earl spoke so softly he practically mouthed the words. He laughed. “If we’d gone south when we got dropped here, we could have met a whole different batch of people!” He shook his head again. “Okay, Rita, he sent what he thought we should know:” – he ticked points off on his fingers – “he found a lot of gold so he’s rich and I don’t have to worry about him not having the resources to get along; there’s a very noble House that got wiped out by the Inquisition for some reason, and he has their sword, kind of like Escobar’s that I have; since I’m going south, I should keep my eyes and ears open because that’s where the survivors of that House went.”
“Not just eyes open”, Rita disagreed. “He’s hoping you’ll go looking.”
Rigel frowned. “I don’t get that.”
Austin snorted. “Antonio doesn’t want that sword. He’ll want to give it to the people who should have it. He has things to do, you’re going the right way.”
Rigel nodded. “Okay squire, so I’m slow sometimes. But something bothers me: first I find one important sword, now Antonio finds another! What are the odds?!”
Hedraing spoke up. “Lord, finding the sword of the Escobar was no accident: that blade awaited someone fit for the quest, with a Druid to guide. Only Antonio’s find is an accident, and one accident is not remarkable.”
“Huh”, Rigel responded. “Maybe you’re right. So, council – do we make an effort to find these southerners?”
“Sure”, Oran answered, “it’ll be fun.”
Chen looked at him with disgust. “Great reason, Scout Two.” He turned to Rigel. “A merchant knew the way. That means there was trade. Trade means enough people to make it worthwhile. It’s a bunch of centuries later, and populations grow. If the Quistadors could find them and start trade back then, we should be able to find them now. So I say we look.”
Tanner shook his head. “It’s too early to decide. We don’t have unlimited supplies. We have to think of the season – we have a hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty days until the snow hits. If it hits and cuts us off from the Valley, where do we stay? How do we get supplies? We don’t have enough information to make a decision yet.”
“Quite true”, Chen conceded. “There’s a lot of land ‘south’. Did this Aragon lord mean due south? or maybe southeast? southwest? All we know is that merchants could get there and back.”
“It’s like a game of ‘treasure hunt’”, Oran observed. “We sorta have half a clue. We need more, or we’re just running around hoping.”
“If there’s any place we can find more information, it’s from people already living down here”, Rita pointed out. “The only people we know of for sure are the ones we’re out looking for.” She left it for Rigel to draw the conclusion.
“So we go on and find the Escobars”, he summed up. “But we can send out parties to the sides and learn more about the land out here. Who knows – maybe we’ll find an old trading post or something.” He chuckled at his own fancy. “Okay – any other comments?”
“So we send an answer?” asked Austin.
“What for?” Oran questioned.
“Just letting Antonio know we got it wouldn’t be a bad idea”, Chen pointed out. “We could ask him to send the sword to the castle for safekeeping.”
“Or just to his fincado”, Austin pointed out.
“We should ask him to let Anaph know Hedraing is now a full Druid”, Lumina proposed.
“Okay, we need an answer”, Rigel decided. “Rita, I’ll let you write it. Everyone else can make suggestions. Tanner, let’s go see the troops.”
“The Fifth squad?!” Rigel exclaimed. “What happened to the Fourth?”
“Conal’s commanding. They’re under Antonio”, Tanner reminded him.
“Waiting for rifles – so why...? Oh – we might need another rifle squad more than Antonio does. He still has the Third, yes?”
Tanner nodded. “And Ryan has the Second. We also have two squads of mounted archers and one of crossbowmen. All know the sword and short spear, and can serve as pikemen.”
“That’s five squads – sixty men!” Rigel grinned. “I thought we were like fifty altogether.
Tanner chuckled. “You don’t pay attention to detail. Sixty armed, a dozen ‘core’, and another dozen just taking care of remounts and supplies.”
“Eighty-four of us. Impressive.” Rigel looked up and down the neatly dressed lines, men standing beside horses. “Tanner, they look good to me, but you’re the one who knows this business. I say let’s get our butts to the Springs.”
The second rider caught up to them by nightfall. They'd dallied a lot to make sure he could; knowing people from Misfit, Rigel wouldn't have bet against one continuing to ride at night just to get his assignment done.
There were three packages, all identical. "Master says he wanted to have these for your ceremony, lard", the man informed Rigel, "but he didn't have the... lenses" -- he said the word carefully -- "quite right. But here they air, all safe and tidy."
The contents were well-wrapped. Rigel pulled out moss, then thin leather rolled around more moss wrapped around think paper and finally fine linen. Inside was a leather tube, thicker at one end than at the other. Laces held a cap closed at the large end. It was a pioneer knot with a double daisy chain loop, secure for travel but easy to open.
"All right!" Austin exclaimed when Rigel opened the tube and slid out the item itself. It was a telescope, in a heavy leather tube with a riveted brass framework bolted to a wooden grip. Rigel stared at it, his smile turning to a delighted grin.
Rita was laughing softly. "We have one at the castle, but it isn't that fine. They kept telling me 'other things are pressing'. These are those 'other things', I bet."
"Three of them", Rigel mused. "One with me, one for Tanner... Chen gets the other one?"
Rita laughed again. "Chen doesn't need one!"
"And in case I get captured, unlikely as it might be, we don't want anyone getting it. Besides", said Scout One with a grin, "I run faster without fragile objects."
Rita stared at him, though there was humor and affection in the regard. "Do you always have to sneak around? No, change that; I know you aren't sneaking, but you're so quite you come and go like a ghost."
"Why, thank you, m'lady!" Chen said, with a bow.
Rigel chuckled and shook his head. "All right -- one for me, one for Tanner, and one spare... which I'll put into the capable hands of our Wise Woman here."
Austin and Oran were hiding muffled laughter, but would admit nothing when asked.
>Happy-Hunter<
“Streaker?!” Casey jumped up from the brush, the rabbits he was watching forgotten, his cry of delight sending them dashing away. From his left, a familiar and beloved form came racing toward him.
“Carlos!” Esteban screamed. He could see the great cat moving, but had no weapon to attack it through the brush. To his consternation, Casey turned toward the beast and held out his arms. A moment later, the two were rolling on the ground, the cat licking Casey’s face, Casey pummeling its back. Esteban approached warily.
>Friend?<
Casey laughed. “Yes, friend. Esteban, this is Streaker – he’s awesome! Streaker, this is Esteban.”
>night-shadow creeper<
Esteban froze. “Did he just....?”
“You heard him?” Casey chuckled. “He called you ‘night-shadow creeper’. Kinda like being a hunter – huh, Streaker?”
>shadow-hunter< Streaker agreed.
“He said ‘shadow-hunter’”, Esteban said, his voice shaking. “How does he do that?” He took a step back, shaking.
Casey shrugged. “I dunno – he just does. It’s kool you can hear him!”
Streaker sat and looked at Esteban intently. >son, to shadow-hunter<
Esteban frowned, perplexed, taking a nervous step backwards away from Streaker.. “I – I don’t have a son.” His voice cracked and ended almost in a squeak.
Casey cracked up. “You don’t hear so well!” He stopped laughing and his eyes went wide as Streaker’s statement sank in. “He means one of his sons will come to you!”
Esteban backed against a tree, his own eyes wide. “For – I – like with you?”
>son, shadow-hunter friend<
Esteban fainted.
It wasn’t a large castle, but it was a castle – half a castle, actually, with work going on to complete it. A wall ran out from it on the northeast edge; on close inspection, it was more a long building than a wall, with a solid roof and a low defensive wall along the outer edge. Inward from that, the stone huts still stood, though none appeared to be in use. A wall ran the other direction as well, connecting to a building sitting by what Rigel recalled as the dirtiest and smelliest of all the pools.
Rita was looking the same direction. “That must be the sulfur spot”, she stated.
“‘Sulfur spot’?” Austin laughed. “That’s lame.”
“What would you call it, squire? ‘Sulfur works’? ‘Sulfur factory’?” Rita asked.
“Wow – wake up on the wrong side of the rock?” Austin responded. “Okay, it’s a spot where they get sulfur from the water, so it’s a sulfur spot.”
Rita stared for a moment, then chuckled. “Okay, I deserved that. It’s nice to get here so much faster that when we were on foot and homeless, but in spite of Hedraing’s anti-ass-ache application I absolutely ache, and I itch and I’m irritable. So there’s a castle, a sulfur spot” – she emphasized the word and mock-glared at Austin – “and a building farther out. Guesses?”
“Tannery”, Chen guessed. “It’s basically downwind, it’s got pits, and those sheds open to the south – my guess is for drying things.”
“Must be nice to be a Scout”, Austin teased. “Race you there!” he yelled impulsively and set off on Titanium with no warning. Everyone looked at each other, with rolling eyes and shaking heads; no one was foolish enough to race Titanium even from a fair start.
Rita flipped a leg over and sat side-saddle. She put her nose in the air, and declared, “A lady rides sedately.” Responding to a tap of Rita’s toe, Hestia shifted to a slow, dignified walk, lifting her feet high before putting them down again.
“Where’d she learn that?” Oran asked, curious. “That’s sweet!”
“Now, I say, we know what Wise Women do in their spare time”, said Chen. “Nicely done, I say, nicely done.” He applauded in that genteel fashion that makes people appear afraid of hurting their own hands.
Titanium, with Austin, was back before they’d crossed half the distance to the Springs. With him rode a familiar face, Daly, a Rider. “He says it’s a tannery”, Austin announced. “Rita sent the Second to escort all the new people. They’ve been hunting down gurvenpigs.”
“Killing them all”, Daly disagreed. He shuddered. “Worthless beasts.”
“If they were worthless, they wouldn’t be alive”, Hedraing contradicted. “I wish to study one freshly killed.” When Daly stared at him in horror, he explained. “Perhaps I can understand how to rid them of their parasites.”
Daly’s eyebrows rose. “That would be wondrous!” he exclaimed. “Half the Second’s out hunting now – but they’re out a distance; most of the beasts have been killed anywhere close, and on the way to the Valley.”
“How do you deal with the parasites?” asked Gavin. Those parasites were an item of discussion and some study at Healer Hall.
“A poison”, Daly informed him. “It kills them in its body. That makes it go mad. When it starts to attack the earth or a bush, or some other foolish thing, it’s time to shoot. The they must wait an hour until the last parasites are dead.”
What happens to all the leather?”
“Some is used here. A lot goes to the workmen at your new castle, m’lord. Some goes to Cavern Castle and its villages. Right now about a third is going to Sir Antonio”
“Excellent idea”, Rita told Rigel. “I doubt the Quistadors have anything so tough. It should sell well.”
“Works for me”, Rigel responded. Suddenly he frowned. “If it’s going to Antonio, why didn’t we pass any on the way here?”
Daly grinned. “You’re not the only one who does exploring! We found a back way to TreeHall Village. You remember a big dome place of trees?” Rigel nodded. “It connects there. We call it ‘Druid’s Inn.”
Rita chuckled. “Appropriate.”
Rigel had his eyes almost crossed. “So the first batch hadn’t reached TreeHall when we came through there. That would mean you haven’t been making leather long?”
Daly laughed. “They made a lot! But all the workers have good gloves and boots now, and tough caps.”
“Whose idea was that?” Rita asked slowly.
“Leftenant Parlan’s.”
Rita nodded, also slowly. “Rigel, we should rotate the mounted squads. We don’t want them developing place-loyalty.”
Rigel’s eyebrows went up. “Come on, that was just Parlan seeing to the needs of the folks where he was!”
“True – but it could change into something more. Better to catch it before it blossoms.”
Rigel sighed – he hated decisions that kept people unrooted. He said so.
Rita chuckled. “That’s one of the things that makes you a good lord – you care about the people below you. But don’t worry – it doesn’t mean they won’t be rooted, it means they’ll be rooted in something bigger: your realm, however large that becomes. It’s the difference between a brash feudal society where ties of loyalty are more for convenience than anything, and a budding people – and if you have a people, everything is different. Think of it this way: once France was a bunch of nobles fighting each other, until someone managed to whack them all together and make it a single kingdom. That’s about where things here are now. Then it was “Long live the king!”, and that’s what you need to be building. Then it can become “Long live France!” That’s appropriate, because until the ‘rooting’ is widespread, there’s not really any ‘France’ to have ‘live’ – it’s the rootedness of the people in their shared identity as Frenchmen which makes the nation live.”
Rigel tried to restrain it, but he couldn’t: he laughed.
“What’s funny?” Rita inquired, bemused.
“Nothing you said. It’s that we went from shipping leather to “Long live France!’ just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Connections”, Chen commented. “Somebody wrote a book about it – little things are connected to big things.”
“James Burke”, Rita responded. “He was a genius.”
“And you’re a Wise Woman”, Chen replied with a grin. “Now, might we go to the Springs instead of just talking about them?”
Rigel didn’t remember stopping, but sure enough, they weren’t moving, and the rest of the column was waiting – patiently, one hoped – strung out behind them. He shook his head in chagrin. “My bad”, he announced. “Let’s go soak.”
But, Oh, Man!, was it ever Worth all the Frustration!! 
