"I know."
I sighed and crossed the bridge. It seemed solid enough, and, yes, as soon as I crossed it I was stepping into an area protected from teleports. The sentries crossed their spears in front of me. One started to speak, but I said, "Vladimir Taltos, House of the Jhereg, to see Captain Cropper by orders of Lord Morrolan."
They stepped out of my way, and one of them gestured to my left. I nodded, turned that way, and began strolling, with the camps to my right. The stream on my left gurgled and laughed at me. It was all bloody damned pastoral in that direction. Looking the other way, there was actually not much activity; I saw a few people sitting on makeshift stools outside of tents, but not many, and those paid little attention to me. There were also a good number of wagons at the far end, and I could see a few people unloading boxes into large, pavilion-like tents. Occasionally I'd hear laughter drifting over. A few small fires were going, and I could smell wood smoke and fresh bread.
"There it is, Boss. Green banner, black horn."
"Where? Oh. I see it. I'd been thinking of a Lyom's horn or something, not the instrument."
I crossed the hundred yards or so to the flag and looked around. There were no uniforms as such, but everyone had a little cap on, and each cap was decorated with a green badge with a horn on it; they also wore sashes, with the same badge near the left shoulder. I drew a few curious looks from those assembled, all of whom seemed to be Dragons. One of them had a silver braid about his left shoulder. He was sitting on an empty wooden crate next to the banner. He looked up at me and said, "You want something?"
"I'm looking for Cropper. Uh, Captain Cropper."
"Who's looking?"
"I am."
He gave me an "I am not amused" stare and I reminded myself that I might be about to put myself in a position where this person would have control over my comfort, and maybe even my life expectancy. I mentally shrugged and said, "Baronet Vladimir Taltos, House of the Jhereg, sent by Lord Morrolan e'Drien, House of the Dragon."
He studied me a little, I guess trying to decide just how much of an attitude he ought to display at this point. Then he stood and said, "I'll tell him."
He went over to a rather larger tent, clapped, was admitted, entered, and reappeared. "Go on in," he said. I wasn't sure if I ought to salute, so I didn't.
Captain Cropper was old, probably getting close to three thousand, but had bright eyes, as well as bushy eyebrows and a pointed chin. He had a jacket with three silver braids around the right shoulder. He was seated on a rickety chair at a rickety wooden table and he was writing up reports or something. As I walked up he said, "I was informed that you were to be attached to my company. Welcome, I suppose. We will dispense with the swearing in because I'm not certain it would have any meaning, and I am unclear on your status with the company. I will find out in due time. For now, Crown will give you cap, sash, and bedding and show you to your quarters. And get rid of that thing."
"That thing" was, of course, Loiosh. It seemed we were going to have trouble right from the start. "That thing" said into my mind, "Tell him if he gives me some of those silver things, I'll forget the offense."
"Shut up, thing."
"He is required"
"Sir!" He glared at me. I managed not to roll my eyes.
"Excuse me, sir. He is required for the operations I am to perform."
He worked his mouth like a horse and said, "Is it necessary that it go around on your shoulder?"
"I could stand on your head, Boss, but you might get tired of that."
"Yes, sir, it is," I said.
Cropper glared at me again. "Very well," he said. "That's all." And he turned back to his work.
He didn't seem to expect me to salute either. No one was expecting me to salute. I'd been looking forward to it, tooit's such a silly thing to do, when you stop and think about it.
I stepped out of the tent and found myself looking up at the man with one silver braid. I said, "You must be Crown, right?"
"Sergeant Crown," he snapped.
"Excuse me," I said, keeping all irony out of my voice. He had rather a square jaw for a Dragonlord, and very thick, bushy eyebrows. He wore a sort of jerkin that covered his arms to the elbows, showing off forearms that were thick and knotted with muscle and quite intimidating. I decided that if I ever had to go up against this man, I'd do so from a distance. I wondered if he was any good at throwing knives.
"Come along," he said.
"All right."
"Answer: 'Yes, Sergeant.' "
"Yes, Sergeant."
He grunted and turned away. I followed him. It occurred to me that achieving popularity was not the number one point on his program. He led me past the Captain's tent and then down a long row of smaller, identical tents, pitched in triangles with flaps all facing the same way. I was the subject of stares, all curious and sometimes unfriendly, from those sitting around outside of them.
He stopped at one and said, "These are your quarters. You'll find a cot, a blanket, canteen, and kit inside."
I said, "Yes, Sergeant."
"I see you have a sword. If you deem it, uh, insufficient, you may draw one of ours."
"Yes, Sergeant."
He turned away. There were two Dragonlords relaxing on wood-and-canvas backless stools outside the tent. They looked up at me.
I said, "And a very pleasant morning to you both."
It wasn't, really; there was a nasty wind that made it a bit cold, and it smelled like it was going to rain. I mention this because one of them, the woman, said, "It is, actually; at least compared to the last couple of days. I'm Virt e'Terics."
"Vlad Taltos."
"Jhereg?"
The question seemed curious rather than hostile, so I said, "Yes I am, or yes he is, depending on which you're asking about." I turned to the man and raised my eyebrows. He turned away.
"His name," said Virt, "is Napper. He's of the e'Drien line. Don't take him personally. Every squad needs someone like him to make bivouacs so unpleasant we look forward to battle."
Napper gave her a nasty look but didn't actually say anything.
"You may as well stow your gear," said Virt.
"Sure. Uh, what exactly does that mean?"
"Shove it under your cot."
"Oh. I can manage that."
Napper gave a snort which I couldn't interpret. Virt said, "For whatever it's worth, we may be moving out any day."
Napper spoke for the first time, saying, "What makes you think so?"
Virt pointed with her chin toward the supply tents. "The last couple of wagons have brought traveling rations. Besides, Sethra Lavode hates keeping her armies in bivouac. If she can't move them out, she likes to arrange billets."
"Don't matter," said Napper. Virt smiled and shrugged with her eyebrows.
At this point another woman walked up. She glanced at Loiosh, then at me. "You must be Taltos," she said. "I'm Rascha, corporal of your squad."
I bowed my head. "Uh … how do I address you?"
"By name is fine. And you don't have to salute."
"No one has made me salute yet."
She cracked a small smile. "I suspect no one knows quite how to deal with you." Of all the soldiers I'd run into so far, she seemed the most "military"she stood straight and stiff, making her seem taller than she was, and she wore her hair short and brushed straight back from her forehead; her eyes were dark and narrow. She also carried a sword, which I noticed because she was the only one so far who did.
Virt said, "What's the story, Rascha?"
"Maneuvers this afternoon, and we'll probably be moving out tomorrow."
Virt nodded and didn't give Napper any "I told you so" sort of glance. Napper, on the other hand, gave a snort which may have been a response to either piece of news, or both.
"Move where?" I said.
Rascha gave me a quick glance, and said, "You'll know when we get there, Taltos," in a sharp tone of voice.
"Sorry," I said.
"Get your gear stowed."