"Well, that's good, because I can't," Xylina replied, just a little irritated. Why hadn't he mentioned this before? Had he planned all along on trotting this little prize out, taking his bow, and waiting for the applause? She would much rather have had a chance to learn to use these things herself. "And I think you'd better start teaching us. What if you got swallowed by a giant snake or something?"
Ware had the audacity to laugh. She stared at him, a little affronted. "You're quite right," he said, agreeably. "I am not in danger of getting swallowed; I would simply dematerialize and walk out. But I have been remiss; I should have been instructing you and Faro all along. And since I have begun this so late, I think the first lesson should be this very moment."
He removed the compass and the other instruments from his saddlebags, and proceeded to instruct them in the use of all of them. There were instruments to take a direction from the angle of the sun, others to do the same from the stars, and charts and maps of all kinds. Soon she was immersed in calculations and complex geometries. The compass was easy enough, but Xylina despaired at ever mastering the astrolabe and the other complex instruments, although Faro seemed to grasp the way of dealing with them at once.
Finally, she decided that she had learned all that she would for the moment. There were other things she could do that would be more profitable. She left the two of them conferring over readings, content for the moment to leave their navigation in the hands of Faro and the demon. She had another potential situation to deal with.
Yesterday they had experienced their first casualty. Kyle was dead, and there would be no bringing him back. The threat to this expedition was now no longer an abstract notion, but a reality. Men who had been cheerful and cavalier about the danger were not laughing this morning. Now they knew, viscerally, that they could die, that they could be hurt. Now this was no longer a game, a pleasure trip, an entertaining trek through strange lands.
They had been talking, quietly, of the rewards they expected to enjoy at the end of this quest. She had heard them, and Faro had reported more of the same. Rewards seemed of little import now, when the cost of the attack had been a life. They must be having second and third thoughts by now, after a long and perhaps sleepless night.
Now her position as leader was at its most precarious. The men might be tempted to desert, and she was in no position to try to stop them. She was not part of an army, and she was the only commander this group had. The cost of attempted desertion was death, under normal circumstances. This was not "normal." There was no point in killing a deserter; that would only create bad feelings and resentment, and might even cause desertions. Actually, in these circumstances, the terrain might cause the deserters to die anyway. No, she had to somehow make it clear to the men that they were all in this situation together, and that their safety lay in loyalty to one another and trust in her ability to lead them.
She was not entirely certain how to do this-but making Faro into a friend had certainly worked to cement his loyalty. Perhaps it would work with the others. It was time to give over some of those affectations of the Mazonite mistress; time to make it clear that she had the welfare of her men as much in mind as her own-and to make it clear that she took every casualty personally.
She decided to talk with Hazard, the young man who had conducted the funeral service last night. He was already well-disposed towards her, according to Faro; he had hopes of attracting her attention or getting a high commendation from her when they returned. The other men seemed to like him, so with luck they would not see her singling Hazard out as "playing favorites." There was that business of the little ritual he had conducted as well; that implied a certain level of unofficial authority over the others. He would be a good man to start with.
And she must stop thinking of them as "only slaves."
They were not "only" anything. They were all the men, all the reinforcements she would have. They were important. She needed them.They did not necessarily need her.
The men were packing the wagons and cleaning up the site. As luck would have it, Hazard was the one saddling her mule for her.
Well, that seemed like a good omen, she thought. As if the fates just confirmed her choice. She smiled as she approached him, but he averted his eyes and quickly bowed his head, keeping his eyes down submissively. That was proper slave etiquette, though Faro never averted his eyes from hers, but had always met her gaze squarely. She suddenly found the aversion unnecessary and annoying.
"Hazard, I would like to talk to you," she said, and he glanced up quickly to assess her expression before looking quickly down again. She chuckled; it was forced, but she doubted he could tell that. "Hazard, you don't have to look at your feet when we speak. In fact, I'd really rather you didn't. This place is full of traps and danger, and if there's something coming up behind me to eat us, you won't know if you keep staring at the ground. Since I suspect you'd rather not be eaten, and I know I'd rather not, why don't you dispense with formalities from now on?"
The young man raised his eyes, cautiously, and smiled a little when he saw that she meant what she had said. "That is quite true, Mistress Xylina," he said. "And it is a sensible thing to do, really. So long as I have your permission to be so bold-"
"Everyone has my permission, from this moment on," she told him firmly. "I'd much rather that you all be practical. And while we're at it, let's just forget all the other protocols as well, shall we? There's no one out here to see or be offended; there's no one out here to report you for 'insubordinate behavior.' Even if there was, it would be me they'd have to report to, and it will be me who will be making a report on you all when this is over. I am not going to be offended if-oh, just as an example-you were to knock me to the ground to keep something from swooping down on me! In fact, I will probably be very grateful. Just behave the way Faro does. That will be the easiest, all the way around."
She wasn't sure how he felt about this; she couldn't read him the way she could read Faro and Ware. But at least he kept his eyes raised, and he didn't seem overtly disturbed at the idea of abandoning "proper" demeanor. Was there a hint of approval? Was there a touch of wary humor? She thought perhaps that there was. She would find out more, in a little while.
"I'm going to be riding the middle today," she said, before he could take his place in the ranks and escape her. "I would like you to stay beside me, and watch the left while I guard the right."
"If you wish, mistress," he said immediately. He couldn't have said anything else, of course. He was the slave; her word was law. Still, she hoped he didn't think her craven for taking the middle position. She didn't want these men to regard her as a coward; that would undermine her authority. Her authority must come from strength and from their admiration, not from custom and habit, or they would not believe in her or obey her orders when they thought their lives were at risk.
But Hazard was about to surprise her. He cast a sideways glance at the "forest," and immediately returned his gaze to her. "There will be no safe position in the column in growth like that, will there, mistress?" he said shrewdly. "I know that if I were a bandit, I would let the foreguard pass and attack the middle. And if I were a monster-well, who can tell what a monster will do? Were you planning on guarding the provision-wagon? If there is an attack to the middle, it will probably come there. The scent of the food in the wagon could draw a predator."