She was Bryck's age, and her face showed those winters. But it was still a comely face. And she had been the one who had saved him when he was first on the run from killing that Felk soldier.
"What do you want, Quentis?" he heard himself asking, his own words faint, uncertain.
She stepped around the screen but did not approach his bunk. She was regarding him intently. There was something sad in her eyes, he thought. And perhaps something needy.
"I want to know if there is anything you want," she finally said.
Bryck felt his heart beating hard, the blood rushing. It was an almost adolescent anxiety, an uneasiness and excitement that was unmistakably sexual.
So much had died within him. So much, he presumed, that would never live again. Nonetheless he felt a stirring, but it was so odd, so out of place, so alien. He had not known a woman since the last time he and his wife, Aaysue, had made love. It wasn't something he thought about.
He wasn't sure he could even imagine himself being with another woman...
"There's nothing I want," he said at last. Frail words. Helpless words.
But Quentis accepted them, and she nodded her acknowledgment and turned and went, even as Bryck caught the shine sparkling her amber eyes. When he felt the wetness on his cheeks, it took him a moment to realize that he, too, had shed tears.
RAVEN (3)
"The informants from the many various individual units in your battalion will submit reports to you," Raven explained, "and you will pass on any relevant information to me."
"Informants?" the officer asked. "You mean spies, right?"
"I mean," Raven said, "that in every unit of this great army there is one soldier who is, above all the others, most loyal to General Weisel. One who would gladly lay down his or her life to protect him. I have sought out these individuals one by one, and am still doing so."
"Sounds like quite a task," the officer said.
"It is. But when it is complete there will be a vast network in place, one that I can use to monitor any serious dissent in the ranks."
The officer mulled it over, then nodded. "Essentially, you're getting the soldiers to spy on themselves."
Raven was mildly annoyed. She didn't much like that word, spy. Then she shrugged. "If you want to see it that way."
"I think it's a marvelous idea, to be honest. When you first told me you were the new Military Security chief, I had uneasy thoughts about rank-and-file soldiers being suddenly arrested for muttering a single complaint about army life. I imagined agents scuttling about everywhere, keeping everyone on edge. But that's not what you have in mind, is it?"
Raven shook her blond-haired head. "No. Specifically, General Weisel doesn't want to foster that sort of environment for his troops. But keeping an eye out for any genuinely mutinous attitudes is only prudent. Particularly after that assassination attempt."
The officer nodded, gravely now. "Yes. And that poor girl who I hear died in his place. I can't remember her name. She must have been quite brave."
"I would say she was," Raven said.
She dismissed the officer and met with a few more. That network was indeed falling into place. It would be as effective as the structure that had assured the loyalty of the students at the Academy, without putting anyone through the undue stresses of such harsh discipline. She was pleased with the progress she was making in her new important position. She hoped Weisel would be pleased as well.
The general, of course, was busy with the occupation of Trael. Or at least select members of his senior staff were, those who had handled the occupations of Callah, Windal, and Sook. A governor would have to be appointed for Trael, and a garrison assigned to the captured city, though maybe these things had already been seen to.
Raven hadn't met with the general since that surprising and glorious occasion the night before the invasion, when she and Weisel had... had... she still blushed a little to think about it, despite her experiences with this new body. Certainly she had always found the general attractive. He was handsome enough and had also shown her the sort of attention she couldn't seem to get from Matokin.
When he had seduced her, it was still a shock, though a pleasant one. He was a masterful lover. Even Vadya had remarked on it. He was as decisive and forceful in bed as he was on a battlefield.
She was still using the name Raven. No one in the field here would recognize the face of Lady Vadya, courtesan of Felk. Raven, after all, was a common enough name. Her recent promotion from liaison officer to head of Military Security had been very well timed, she noted. As far as anybody knew, Raven was a plump homely girl who had died saving the general's life, and this new Raven, so elegant and beautiful, was someone else entirely.
It had been explained to her that resurrection magic was a secret Matokin wanted kept. She wasn't to go about telling anyone that she was sharing this living vessel with another person's consciousness.
The bulk of the army was presently encamped just south of Trael, while fresh conscripts from that city were processed and given a fast course in soldiering.
Now was a good time to report to Matokin and Abraxis, back at Felk. Raven sought out the Far Speak mage Berkant. Like Weisel, he knew the full truth of her identity. She had contacted the wizard previously, whenever she needed to make private communications with Lord Matokin.
He ushered her into his tent. "Sit and wait," he said. "I'll arrange it."
Raven sat. She watched Berkant take up a piece of fabric, squeezing it, concentrating. A moment later, all expression washed from his face.
"Raven, what do you have to report?" Berkant's lips moved, and it was his voice that spoke, but the tone was different. Raven knew that Matokin himself was originating these words and passing them on, via the Far Speak magic.
"Lord Matokin," she said, "there have been some interesting developments..."
She went on to quickly detail her promotion and what the goals of the newly formed Military Security were. She demurely omitted the tryst she and Weisel had shared. It was something, she knew, that she should report but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do so. The event had been too private. Too special.
Matokin, speaking through Berkant, cut her off. "Military Security?" he barked. "What is he playing at? I never authorized any such agency. Does he think he can have an independent bureau, separate and autonomous from Internal Security, just because he wants it? The audacity!"
Raven was taken aback. She swallowed. "I, uh, didn't consider the implications—"
"Oh, I don't blame you, Raven. In fact, you did exactly the proper thing by accepting the position. Weisel imagines he can run the army like it's his own sovereign state? Let him try. Now we have you as the chief of his security corps. And you belong to us." Berkant, face still slack, let out an eerie laugh.
"Yes, Lord," Raven said, obediently.
"Carry on then, Raven. Lord Abraxis will find all this most amusing."
Berkant's hand opened, and the piece of fabric dropped out of it. The mage's eyes cleared. Raven reflexively thanked him for his time and exited the tent.
She was deep in thought. Matokin had said, You belong to us. Raven discovered, somewhat to her surprise, that she didn't like the way that sounded. Maybe it was just too bluntly stated. Maybe it hit too close to home. No one wanted to be owned by another person, even if that person was the most powerful man in the empire. Even if Matokin was her father. She wanted to be a part of him, yes, but...
It was complicated.
I think you're simply feeling the first real stirrings of independence, Raven.