Theos squinted at the boy. “He’s probably not going to get much taller; hopefully he still has some filling out to do. But he hasn’t been trained properly. Best chance is for him to be a medic.”
Theos wouldn’t admit it while the boy might be listening, but he knew the Torians never had much luck training their own healers. The women had their medicine, of course, and they’d help any soldier who could be brought back to the safety of the city. But they knew better than to venture out into the fields of battle.
“Either that or a bedwarmer,” Theos mused.
“He’s pretty enough,” Andros mumbled.
Yes, he probably was. And when a bedwarmerwasn’tbusy serving his master however required, he could spend his time training, trying to find some way to earn a place for himself.
If that didn’t work? The boy might be sent back east to one of the huge mines in the central valleys where he would labor underground, or he might be used for whatever skill-less jobs the army came up with. Theos had seen useless slaves sent to clear paths of traps before more valuable soldiers came through, and he’d heard of them being pushed onto the battlefield as arrow-fodder, distracting the enemy while the true soldiers approached under better cover. It was no way for a man to die.
“He needs to be smart,” Theos said, still not really for Andros’s benefit.
“He is,” Andros replied.
“Well, he needs toactsmart. Needs to remember who’s in charge.” A foolish suggestion, probably. It was pointless to speculate. Finding jobs for prisoners was the task of the evaluators, not the Sacrati.
So he left Andros to his blankets and took a brief tour around the camp, looking for dangers he knew he wouldn’t find, stepping carefully to avoid Achus and Elios’s tangle of writhing, half-naked Sacrati, trying to ignore the stir in his own groin. He thought briefly about approaching Xeno, but Andros had always been closer to Theos, and finding relief with Xeno while Andros lay there unable to join in didn’t seem right. So Theos laid another log on the fire and settled back. The Elkati was sitting up, now, and working hard at not watching Achus and Elios. The boy wasn’t going to have much fun as a bedwarmer if he got this flustered when someoneelsewas having sex. But that wasn’t Theos’s problem.
Chapter Four
They made slow but steady progress the next day, and at dinnertime Finnvid allowed Andros to eat some finely minced vegetables and a tiny bit of the rabbit Xeno had caught and roasted. Finnvid clearly knew Theos was watching him around the food, and after feeding Andros he defiantly pushed away the vegetables and meat Xeno offered him. “I’m not really hungry,” the Elkati said. “I think I’ll just have a little more broth.”
“Good,” Theos grunted. He reached across and lifted the rejected plate off the ground by Finnvid’s side. “I didn’t get quite enough meat. Does anyone want more vegetables, or should I eat those too?”
He waited a moment for an answer he didn’t get, then started eating. The rabbit was greasy and delicious, almost enough to make him forget that the vegetables had been dried and chopped into something closer to flour than to recognizable forms. Dried fruit, dried grain, dried vegetables, dried meat, reconstituted only if there was time to camp and start a fire—that was the diet of a soldier in the field. The rabbit made this meal a luxury, even if there was no replacement for the vegetable slush.
The next morning, the Elkati ate the same breakfast as everyone else, and Andros managed a half serving of oatmeal. They traveled faster that day, too. By the time the sun was setting, they’d reached the sentry at the top of the valley, and Theos helped Andros pull the leather bag from around his neck. They were home, and their spirits didn’t need to be fooled anymore. Theos hung the bags up on the hook, then told Andros, “We can camp here, if you want, or else spend another few hours on the road and you can sleep in your own bed. It’s your decision.”
“I’m alreadyinbed,” Andros said, patting the sides of his stretcher with satisfaction. “I’m happy either way.”
Theos looked at the other men. The Sacrati would be happy to get home, and walking through the flat valley in the dark wasn’t dangerous. Five Sacrati who wanted their beds . . . Theos caught the Elkati’s eye. Finnvid was trying to look unconcerned, but not really managing it. He had no idea what was waiting for him when they reached the city, and Theos didn’t know much himself. The other prisoners had been heading for interrogation when he’d left the valley; what had they said? Why had they been on the wrong side of the border, and why had they been led by a healer instead of . . . well, instead of just about anyone else?
And even if the questions had been answered in the most innocent ways, what was waiting for Finnvid after the evaluators saw him?
“We’ll camp,” Theos decided. They’d left the cold behind on the mountain, and it would be pleasant to have a night under the stars without shivering. One last night before returning to the usual routine. Well, routine for five of them.
The sentry post was well stocked with food and miscellaneous cooking tools; Theos thought back to his own time on sentry duty and didn’t remember the same level of luxury. It was probably a sign of moral decline that the sentries were living so well now, but he was too happy to see fresh bread to worry too much about it. He just commandeered what he wanted and left the sentries sputtering indignantly. Living on jerky until they were relieved of duty would be good for the soldiers’ characters.
Theos, on the other hand? He and the others grilled slabs of ham, roasted freshly dug potatoes and carrots, and made a sort of apple-berry cobbler for dessert. A few jugs of ale might have completed the feast, but no one complained. They just ate, and sat around the fire. Even Andros, after having a taste of all of their foods, was more-or-less upright, leaning back against Xeno.
“Almost as good as the harvest feast,” Achus said, patting his belly contentedly.
“I always wondered why they fed us so well on those nights,” Elios mused. “After a big meal, I just want to sleep. Pleasing a woman seems like a lot of work.”
“That would explain why you don’t get many invitations to the city,” Xeno said. “You’ll be stuck with one or two kids a year if you can’t make the women want you more often. Theos, though . . . Theos, how many have you got so far? Must be almost fifty?”
“Forty-six, I think. Two more on the way, though.”
Elios shook his head. “Too much trouble. Why get cleaned up, walk all the way to the city, and go through all their nonsense, just to fuck a woman, when I could roll over right now and do whatever I wanted to Achus?”
“You have forty-six . . . Are you talking about— You’ve fathered forty-sixchildren?” The Elkati was staring at Theos, his expression a mix of disbelief and something that looked like disgust. “I’ve heard about the Torian practices, but . . .forty-six? You aren’t even— You’re quiteyoung! When did you start having children?”
“My oldest is coming to the barracks this winter. He’s almost nine.” Theos wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused by the Elkati’s reaction.
“You’ve had forty-six children in nine years?”
Theos looked to Andros to see if he wanted to jump into the conversation, but Andros just said, “Carry on. You’re seven kids ahead of me, and I started before you. Explain yourself to the foreigner.”
