Dralin (13 page)

They walked to Frath’s bunk where Gorman had
him sit down on the footlocker. The bunks were made of wrought iron
with simple mattresses sitting atop thin wooden box frames. There
were rows of fifteen on each side of the wide center aisle, leaving
a few extra. The walls and floor were stone that helped keep it
cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Small mats at the side
of each bunk were a measure of comfort for the feet of the tough
guards.

Pelya continued to sleep peacefully in
Frath’s arms. He liked holding her even though he was terrified by
how fragile she was. He just wished Sheela could hold her. The
thought drove another chill dagger through his heart. Frath had
never realized pain could be so cold. He didn’t hear Gorman quietly
tell the others that Sheela had died, nor did he see the
sympathetic reactions and even tears from a few for his loss.

“What are you going to do with it, private?”
Gorman asked with his arms folded.

Frath looked up. There was nothing but
compassion and concern in the sergeant’s face. Frath had never seen
this side of him. Sergeant Gorman was one of the toughest and most
respected men in the City Guard. He brooked no nonsense and Frath
admired the man more than anyone. The sergeant’s going with him to
the inn was surprising. Even more so was his bringing Frath back to
the barracks with the baby. “It, Sergeant?” Frath asked.

“It. The baby,” he clarified, pointing at
the bundle. “You said you’re going to keep it, but what are you
doing with it?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I know I can’t stay
here, but . . .” Frath sighed. “Maybe I can find a job where
they’ll let me care for her.”

“What about Lady Pallon?” a female private
named Bava asked. She had been in the same unit as Frath for over a
year. Her personality was normally as fiery as her red hair.

Frath shook his head. “Lady Pallon’s
daughter left a newborn baby on the doorstep a couple of months ago
then disappeared. Lady Pallon is raising the babe because it’s
family, but she’s angry at being put in that situation and there’s
no way I can take Pelya to her.”

“Pelya, that’s an odd name,” said a tinny
voiced private named Bobbell. He was short and thin-faced, but very
fast. Frath got along well with him.

“Sheela and I like it,” Frath replied
without further explanation. Bobbell shrugged, not willing to upset
his friend. Not many people pushed Frath to talk too much. Not only
was he quiet, but he was the best fighter in the squad by far.

Sergeant Gorman began pacing back and forth.
After a moment, he stopped and looked around at everyone. It looked
as though he was about to issue an order, but he went back to
pacing instead. The squad exchanged glances of surprise.

The sergeant stopped in front of Frath.
“What if you could raise the child in the barracks? Would you
stay?”

Jaws literally dropped. Frath opened his
mouth to speak, but closed it again when words failed to come. His
face twisted slightly in the opposite direction of his nose. “Huh?”
he finally asked with great eloquence.

Gorman kicked the corner of the bunk,
needing to let out steam. His hands were folded behind his back and
his forehead was creased in thought. The man who made officers
shake in their boots when he yelled looked unsure of himself.
“You’re a good soldier, Frath. You have a lot of potential and I’m
not willing to lose you.”

Frath’s heart filled with pride at the high
praise. The pride deflated quickly when he remembered the
circumstances of the day. Every time he thought about Sheela, the
pain felt new and raw.

“I see how much you hurt, Frath, and I’m
sorry.” Gorman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Keep the
babe here with you. We’ll move you to the room in the back where
she won’t disturb the others too much if she cries. Albert told me
that we could come get the crib Sheela had in her room.”

The squad exchanged looks of amazement.
Raise a child in the barracks? The mere suggestion was a shock.
Frath frowned. “What about everyone else?” he asked, gesturing at
the other members of the squad. “It doesn’t seem fair to ask them
to put up with a child.”

“I think it’s a great idea. You’d better
stay!” Bava demanded, her strong alto voice filling the barracks.
Suddenly every one of them chimed in, yelling words of
encouragement and pumping their fists in the air.

“I’m not great with kids, but I’ll do
whatever I can to help, Frath,” Bobbell said. Others chimed in,
offering to help as well. A few even began working out a schedule
of who would watch Pelya when Frath couldn’t. Frath observed the
reactions and felt tears begin to flow down his face again. His
shoulders shook and it took all his fortitude not to disturb
Pelya.

Bava took the babe from his arms. “I promise
to protect her with my life,” she told him, tears flowing down her
own cheeks. Pelya opened her eyes again and decided that the red
headed woman was alright before yawning and falling right back
asleep.

“We’ll feed her goat’s milk. Even with the
extra coin, you can’t afford a wet nurse and getting one in here
along with the baby would be impossible,” Gorman said, pacing back
and forth again. He ran fingers through his short-cropped,
light-brown hair. The sergeant was one of the few who never went
with the popular style, claiming that long hair was for sissies. He
stopped and leaned over Frath. “You’re serious about raising her?”
His chocolate-brown eyes pierced Frath’s, looking straight into his
soul. Gorman’s stare unnerved Frath, along with everyone else who
had ever been pinned by those eyes.

“Yes, Sergeant. She’s my daughter and I’m
going to raise her,” Frath answered with conviction.

Gorman stepped back and nodded. “Then it’s
settled. Pelya is a member of our squad.”

A cheer burst from the squad, but it ended
abruptly when the baby cried. Her sleep had been disturbed and she
was angry about it. Bava spoke up, “How soon can we get that goat’s
milk?”

The sergeant barked out an order for a
couple of privates to run to get some. He sent a few more to get
the crib and anything else that might be at the inn. Frath dug
through the supplies in the bag for a pacifier he had bought at the
market with Sheela. The loss iced his veins again as he wished she
could see the child they’d created.

When he brought the pacifier to Pelya’s
mouth, she took it and quieted down, but her eyes expressed
displeasure at being silenced. Bava chuckled. “Oh my. She’s going
to be a spitfire, she is. You . . .
we
have our hands
full.”

“Sergeant,” Corporal Willmas said with a
finger in the air.

“Yeah, Corporal?”

“What about Captain Duuth? There’s no way
he’ll allow a child in the barracks. He looks for every opportunity
to crush our spirit.” The corporal’s words immediately dampened the
mood in the room.

Gorman grinned slyly and a cunning gleam lit
his eyes. “Oh yes he will.” He turned to Frath. “Bava looks to have
the babe well in hand. You come with me, Private. We’re going to go
have a talk with the good captain. I know a few things about him
that powerful people might find extremely interesting. I’ve been
keeping them to myself, but perhaps this is a good time to mention
them.”

More shocked looks were exchanged.
Blackmailing an officer was punishable by death, but Gorman’s squad
knew their leader wasn’t just strong and good with a sword, he also
had a sharp mind that made him ten times more dangerous.

***

A few minutes later, they walked into the
Captain’s offices. Gorman walked past the lieutenant at the desk
too quickly for the man to do anything more than jump up and say,
“Ahh, what is your busi . . .” The lieutenant’s arm was
outstretched with an index finger in the air as though to protest.
Frath followed the sergeant through the door.

Captain Duuth was a slavering weasel of a
man, if one were to put it nicely. He had only been promoted to
captain because of his ability to connect his lips to the behinds
of very powerful mages within the High Council’s offices. Some
people said he did so literally. His squads tended to do a great
deal of unproductive work and make arrests that were questionable
and often politically motivated. Duuth would order units not to
patrol certain areas at certain times and even give a squad the day
off if it suited his ulterior motives. It was a testament to men
like Gorman and a couple of other sergeants that they accomplished
their duty and protected the city in spite of their captain.

When Gorman burst through the door, Captain
Duuth jumped in surprise. With a guilty look on his face, the
captain quickly stuffed papers into a drawer. Candles along the
wall and a single lantern on the desk provided the only light. A
large fireplace to the right had been unlit for a few months. There
were crossed swords on the wall behind the desk and a window on the
wall to the left. Other than that, the stone walls were bare as was
the floor. Frath was surprised that an officer wouldn’t have
carpets to keep his feet warm and comfortable.

The lieutenant ran in after them with a look
of consternation on his face. “That will be all, Lieutenant,” Duuth
said in a nasal whine. He waved the junior officer away with a look
of contempt on his face. “Well, what is it, Sergeant?” the captain
asked, turning his attention to Gorman. “Why are you barging into
my office like some hulking barbarian?” He flicked his gaze in
Frath’s direction. Upon seeing the private’s markings and youth, he
ignored Frath’s presence entirely.

Duuth’s scraggly eyebrows rose for his next
comment, pushing his balding brown hair even farther back on his
head. “Civilized people set appointments you know . . . then again
you
wouldn’t know because you’re not civilized!” He looked
as though he was telling the best joke in the world, jabbing his
finger at the sergeant and leaning forward. “You’ve been hit in the
head with a sword too often!” The captain then burst out with a
horribly nasal laugh that made the hairs on the back of Frath’s
neck stand up. It was a good thing Duuth thought himself funny,
because neither of the other men did. Frath thought the chinless
weasel’s laugh sounded a bit strained, so perhaps the captain was
only stroking his own ego.

Sergeant Gorman abruptly turned and marched
to the door, yanking it open. The lieutenant fell through and
landed in a heap on the floor. Gorman picked the man up by the
scruff of the neck and slammed him against the wall. “Get back to
work, you diseased worm!” He physically threw the man out of the
office and slammed the door.

Duuth visibly cowered as Gorman turned
around and strode purposefully to the desk, placed his burly hands
on the top and spoke with a growl. “We have a dire situation,
Captain.”

The rodent-faced officer sat down in his
chair and fearfully wiped his perspiring brow with a stained, lacy
handkerchief. “Uh . . . oh . . . Oh? We do? What situation is
dire?”

Gorman stabbed a finger in Frath’s
direction. “That . . . is Private Frath Jornin. He is one of our
best men and has a lot of potential. The problem is that we’re
about to lose him and we
don’t
want that.”

It was the highest praise Frath had ever
heard his sergeant give anyone and he felt a blush rising in his
face. Captain Duuth leaned forward and squinted at Frath. “I
haven’t heard of him. Why are we going to lose him?” His dull green
eyes glinted with the smallest amount of curiosity.

The Sergeant slammed a fist against the
desk, causing the captain and Frath to jump at the loud thump. In a
low, raspy voice he said, “Because Frath is stuck raising a baby
girl all by himself. The only way he can stay is if he raises her
in the barracks.” Gorman straightened and gave a sharp nod. “We all
know that’s against policy of course,” he finished
matter-of-factly.

Duuth responded with a little surprise and a
lot of disdain. “Well of course it’s against policy! What a silly
idea, raising a baby in the barracks. What a stupid thought.” The
terrible whine of a laugh emanated from the captain’s bent nose
again. Frath cringed at the sound as he wondered what his sergeant
was working toward.

“Exactly what policy is it that says
children can’t be raised in the barracks, Captain?” Gorman asked
while scratching his stubbly head.

The horrible laugh ceased instantly, leaving
silence hanging thickly in the room. Captain Duuth rubbed the side
of his oblong head as though he had been smacked in the face. “Ehh?
What do you mean, ‘what policy’?”

The sergeant leaned with one hand on the
desk and an inquisitive look on his face. “Well . . . there must be
a policy against raising children in the barracks of course.” He
gestured at a bookshelf standing beside the door. Thick books about
law and policy filled its shelves. “You know every single policy in
the Guard. You’ve even written a few. I was just wondering exactly
which policy forbids raising kids in the barracks.”

Captain Duuth sat there looking dumfounded
at Gorman. It was a look that actually fit his face. Then his
features began to pinch. Frath had never seen someone’s face pinch
before. He stared in fascination.

As it happened, the Captain was responsible
for teaching law and policy. It also happened that Sergeant Gorman
was his best student and knew every policy of the Guard almost as
well as Duuth. Because of his intelligence and fighting ability
combined, Gorman was expected to become an officer in a few years
and advance high in rank.

Duuth’s eyes squinted in suspicion. “What
are you getting at, Sergeant?” he asked slowly and deliberately.
Then his eyes widened. “Oh no. No. Ohhh no!” He stood up in alarm.
“You can’t be serious?! Of course there’s no actual policy written
against it. Because no one has ever been stupid enough to consider
raising a child in the barracks.” He stared at Gorman. Then he
turned his gaze on Frath. Both men looked grimly back at their
captain. “You really
are
serious! You want to raise a
child
in the barracks?! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
His voice became thoughtful as he considered the matter inwardly.
“How extraordinary.” Captain Duuth pulled open a drawer and grabbed
a piece of parchment, setting it on the desk while sitting down.
“I’ll just go ahead and write that policy right now.”