The army was on the move when she arrived. Luckily, Raven had been transported while the troops had stopped for a midday meal and rest period.
She presented her orders to an officer, who didn't try hard to hide the fact that he was more interested in her body than the scroll she'd handed him. Raven soaked up the attention. This was far more effective than when Weisel had ordered her groomed and put into more attractive attire. Now she was drawing stares from virtually every male.
This time, though, she had Vadya telling her how to best react, how to use her femininity and sensuality to her advantage. It was quite a game, with feints and ploys, veiled glances and cold silent dismissals.
Raven was enjoying it, immensely. Now she had the power of beauty, as well as the authority of her status as General Weisel's liaison to the magic-using units of this army. It was a position he had created just for her.
"The general wants you to report to him," the officer said. He pointed. "He's back that way."
"I'll find him," Raven said, and set off.
The sights and smells were definitely different from those of the Palace. A few more days there, and she would have gotten too used to its luxuries.
General Weisel was encircled by a squad of watchful guards when she located him. She knew that the assassin who had tried to kill him, and who had succeeded in killing her instead, was still at large. If the culprit hadn't been found yet, Raven guessed, then he or she had probably managed to flee.
It might have been an action on the part of the enemies of Felk. That assassin might have been an agent sent to kill Weisel, so as to slow the army's southward push. It was also possible, and more disturbing, that it had been done on the inside. Maybe some disgruntled Felk soldier had taken it on himself to murder Weisel. Maybe the assassin was from among the conscripted troops from the cities the Felk had already conquered.
Whatever, Weisel was being scrupulously protected now. Raven's identity was checked a second time, before she was passed through the vigilant circle surrounding the general.
"Raven!" Weisel said, in what sounded like a sincerely happy greeting.
She saluted. "General, I'm reporting as ordered."
Weisel was dressed in his riding gear. He took a sip from a cup of water, gargled, spat, and handed the cup off to one of his retinue. He waved her nearer.
"You're recovered?" he asked. "I understand the experience can be... unsettling."
"I've been cleared for duty, General," Raven said.
"That's good." He took a moment to look her over. "I must say they certainly picked a pleasant body for you. Are you enjoying it?"
"I am," she smirked, unable to hide the expression.
Weisel laughed. "I thought you would be. Raven," he said, more serious now, "there have been some changes in strategy since your... leave of absence. We're no longer going ahead with the portal operation. You remember it?"
"I do, General."
"Instead, we're going to do something safer and perhaps a bit less flamboyant," he shrugged.
Raven knew enough not to ask why the operation had been canceled. If Weisel wanted her to know, he would tell her.
"But that's not why I wanted to see you," Weisel went on. "I know you had your position as a liaison thrust upon you without any notice—"
"I was honored to be selected," Raven burst out, then sucked in a startled breath at her own impertinence at interrupting the general.
Weisel ignored it. "But you've served well. And it makes me think you can handle even more responsibility."
This time she waited, to make sure he had really paused. Then she said, solemnly, "I am humbled, General Weisel."
"I promised you a reward for saving my life. This might not qualify, precisely, but I need someone I can trust who can handle a serious task. As you may know, my assassin or assassins have not been found. My senior staff has saddled me with this special guard, to keep me protected. But that doesn't solve the problem. One way or the other, a failure in security is responsible for that assassination attempt. It can't be repeated. I will tell you in confidence that I believe the one who fired that crossbow to be... Felk." His eyes bored into her.
Raven gasped almost inaudibly.
"That makes it a matter of internal security, within this army," Weisel said. He was speaking intently but softly, too low for his guards to overhear. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said. "Are you going to contact Lord Abraxis and have him send in some of his agents?"
"No," Weisel snapped, looking suddenly annoyed. "I don't want that shifty mage meddling with my troops here in the field. No. What I need, Raven, is an internal security force of my own, one that will police this army. I need to be assured that these warriors are loyal. For that, I need someone in charge of security whose loyalty is unquestioned."
The full weight of it descended on Raven. She nearly staggered.
"I will make you an officer and appoint you to the head of the force," Weisel said. "Will you accept?"
She didn't hesitate. "I will serve you in any way I can, General Weisel."
"That's good." Weisel nodded. "We'll be bivouacking in a few watches, then moving into position around Trael early tomorrow. This evening, come to my pavilion. We'll discuss the details."
"Yes, General!"
"Dismissed."
Raven slipped away, her head whirling. This was a remarkable turn of events. Head of internal security for this army. The implications were stunning.
She had made the right decision. How could she have possibly turned Weisel down?
I will serve you in any way I can, General Weisel.
It was, she realized, almost exactly the same thing she had said to Matokin.
RADSTAC (2)
It was likely the Felk officer with the bored, irritable, bureaucratic air would never know how near death had been in that room. He was not interested in faces or personalities. Identity, to this meticulous creature, meant verifiable paperwork.
He was interested in official traveling orders, which neither Radstac nor Deo possessed. They had been Far Moved from the active ranks in the field to this occupied city of Callah; and the arrangements had been decidedly unofficial.
This didn't sit well with the officer, who seemed to take their appearance here as a personal offense. So be it, Radstac had thought. But the officer, an undersized man with lips evidently permanently pinched, made the error of approaching Radstac, of waving a finger under her nose, of barking unpleasantries and finally—and most seriously—of jabbing that same finger into her chest. He poked her once, and every instinct called for her to unsheathe her combat sword and proceed with a fast but messy disemboweling.
It was almost beyond her to control the response. As the officer was making to stab that finger again into Radstac's leather-armored chest, Deo, surely understanding the direness of the situation, intervened.
"Sir, if there's some problem, perhaps we could speak with someone with the authority to decide what to do with us." Deo said it with perfect ingenuousness.
It earned him a pinch-mouthed sneer; but it also made it apparent that this officer did not have that authority. This was a functionary who collected and filed papers. He didn't make decisions. What authority he exerted was a bureaucrat's fussiness.
And so Radstac and Deo were led from the room where the Felk mages, who'd immediately excused themselves, had created the arrival portal.
It had been an experience like no other. Radstac didn't fear magic, but this was magic of a scope that was unfamiliar. That foggy world... it was so alien. She was a mercenary. She relied on her senses, on the power and coordination of her body. She wondered how those traits would serve her there, if she ever had to engage in combat in that deranged environment.