Dujahn shook his head and stepped forward. “Presently, I’m representing Miestri of Vale.”
“You work for that tyke?” Halstoy smirked. “I don’t envy you.”
Dujahn shrugged. He leveled his gaze at the tall Bandit soldier. “In that case, you certainly won’t like my news. She’s coming to the Shoreland Regiment, Colonel. Tonight.”
Hallstoy coughed as he tried to suppress a laugh. “Like Hate she is, Dujahn. This is Tsyrke’s camp, and she has no right being here. And don’t tell me she doesn’t know that.”
“You can tell her yourself when she gets here. I was sent to secure a pavilion for her and two companies of Kiran Thall.”
Hallstoy’s eyes went wild and he laughed out loud. “Sweet Achrolese, you were sent to do what?” The scar on his cheek burned. “You can’t come into my army and start giving orders. I don’t give a ban who sent you. Only Tsyrke or Mage or Stroth Ballinaire can make orders in this camp over mine. And in that order, too. I don’t care if she’s a Sorian – this isn’t her camp!”
Dujahn shrugged. The half-smile he gave the colonel was forbearing. “The Sorian can do whatever they want, Colonel. Honestly, do you think you can stop her from coming here tonight? Do you think this entire army could stop her?” He gave the colonel a wry look. “Be reasonable. She’s not here to take over your command.”
“Then why is she coming?” Hallstoy demanded.
“She hasn’t revealed that to me. I need a pavilion and a few companies of scouts. She asked specifically for Kiran Thall. That’s all.”
Hallstoy kicked one of the table legs, sloshing the ale. “No.”
“What did you say?”
“I said no. I’m not giving her a thing. I will not let Tsyrke or Mage come back and find out I’ve been catering to her. You tell that…”
Dujahn reached inside his tunic pocket and withdrew a red-glass orb. A queer orange fire burned inside of it. The other Bandit officers stepped back, recognizing the shape and color of the orb. He heard one of them mutter something about dark magic.
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Dujahn said coldly.
Hallstoy froze.
“Come, Colonel. Explain to the Lady of Vale why you won’t greet a fellow member of the Rebellion. One who certainly has more authority over you or your officers. Go on, sir. Tell her.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Hallstoy grumbled. He stared at the orb fearfully.
“I really don’t think she cares,” Dujahn advised. “The Lady of Vale is coming tonight. You know how they can be when they don’t get their way.” The orb gave off a wicked flash and a red mist began to creep from its shimmering glass. The other officers started to back towards the tent door. “She’ll take your tent, Hallstoy. She’ll be here in a minute if I invoke her.”
The Bandit colonel gave Dujahn a deep frown and looked as if he was about to draw a weapon, but he tightened his mouth and shook his head. He looked ready to kill if they had been alone. “She’s only daring this because Tsyrke and Mage aren’t here,” he whispered. “I only hope -- by Achrolese! -- that one of them returns before she can disappear.” Hallstoy straightened his sword belt, summoned a spoonful of dignity, and looked towards one of his officers. “Tell Grimme to get out of his tent.” He turned back to Dujahn. “It’ll have to do. Secrist is out roving with two companies of Kiran Thall right now. She can use them when he gets back.” He gave Dujahn a delighted smirk. “I would truly like to see her try and threaten him.”
Secrist’s companies? Dujahn thought dryly. “Thank you, Colonel,” Dujahn said with a small bow. The red mist retreated back into the orb and he stuffed it back into the pouch. “The Lady of Vale will be pleased at your obedience.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and followed the officer out of the stuffy pavilion. He was a little disappointed. Miestri had said she might have let him use the Firekin to rip the skin off of Hallstoy’s skull. It would have been fascinating to see that – and to see the looks the other officers would have given him when he did.