*
In the end there were five of them: Winter, Leti, red-?haired Yath, and a pair of sisters named Elka and Seka. They circled around the cleared area so as not to approach from the direction of their camp and then walked slowly and deliberately toward the fortress.
Whether or not they were expecting trouble, the guards on the wall weren’t blind. It wasn’t long before they spotted the small group, and a half dozen of them gathered to watch as the five women came closer. Winter stopped the others a bit outside musket range and waved to the watching soldiers. When one of them cautiously waved back, she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted in Murnskai.
“Greetings! We’d like to speak to someone in authority, please!”
The answer drifted back, almost inaudible. “Who are you?”
“Travelers!” Winter paused, then added, “We don’t want any trouble!”
There was an animated discussion among the soldiers, and several of them disappeared. The others stared, but didn’t speak, and for a long while nothing happened. Leti shifted impatiently, but Winter, more familiar with the ways of soldiers, gestured for her to wait. They’ll have to find the command, explain the situation, convince him it requires his attention...
Five minutes was actually faster than she’d expected. The front gate swung open, and four white-?uniformed soldiers emerged, followed by a man in a dark cloak. He wore a uniform underneath it, Winter saw as he approached, of a considerably more impressive cut, adorned with silver and gold braid. His cloak was black leather, lined on the inside with soft, dark fur. He had blond hair that fell loose to his shoulders and a narrow, suspicious face with a neat blond beard. A pistol and a short sword hung at his belt, while the men with him carried muskets with bayonets fixed. Not taking any chances, is he?
When he was perhaps twenty yards off, he stopped, eyeing the group of women with open curiosity. His eyes lingered on Winter, and he raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not one of them,” he said, his Murnskai strangely accented to Winter’s ears. “But by your voice you’re not Murnskai, either.”
Winter shook her head. “I’m from the south.” No need to specify Vordanai, what with the war...
“A foreigner.” His mouth twisted. “So, what is a foreign woman dressed in rags doing in the company of four girl savages?”
Winter glanced down at herself. “Rags” might be pushing it, but she had to admit she didn’t look imposing. She’d patched the gear she’d gotten at the Mountain with pieces provided by the Haeta, and the result was warm but didn’t look pretty. She shrugged.
“It’s quite a story,” she said. “I’ll be happy to tell it to you, if you like.”
“We shall see.” The man strolled forward, and his escort followed, though they looked unhappy. “Do your companions speak Murnskai?”
“I do,” Leti said. “I am Letingerae, of the Haeta.”
“Remarkable,” the man murmured. “I am Captain Evar Kollowrath, commander of Fort Penance.”
“And I’m Winter Ihernglass.” She didn’t think her fame was enough that she had to worry about being recognized.
“And what do Winter Ihernglass and her savage friends require of His Imperial Majesty’s army?”
Winter took a deep breath. “We need passage downriver, as soon as possible. We saw your ships. We’d like to use them.”
One of the soldiers standing beside Kollowrath sniggered. The captain merely smiled broadly.
“Really? Is that all?” He waggled his eyebrows. “You don’t want a hot meal and a bath while you’re at it?”
“There are... people behind us. A small army. They’re killing everything in their way.” Winter had explained to Leti that the Murnskai wouldn’t believe in demons. She had to admit, though, that this story wasn’t as convincing. “I suggest you come with us.”
“Abandon our posts, in other words,” Kollowrath said. “Give up this fortress, with which His Imperial Majesty has entrusted me. Take over His Imperial Majesty’s river couriers for my own use, on the word of an indigent young woman and a pack of northern barbarians.” He raised his hands. “Why not?”
The man at his shoulder, a big, heavily bearded fellow, whispered something in the captain’s ear. Kollowrath turned scarlet.
“Rumors and exaggerations,” he spat. “And if you contradict me in public again, Sergeant, you’ll be on ice duty for a month. Is that clear?”
The sergeant stepped back. Winter met his eyes and saw his frustration. But he muttered, “Yes, sir.”
“We will not be abandoning the fortress,” Kollowrath said, turning his attention back to Winter and the others. He came closer, until he was just a few strides from her. “If some ‘army’ of brigands wants to take it, I invite them to try. They will find His Imperial Majesty’s soldiers ready for them.”
“Fine,” Winter said. She turned to Leti. “This was a mistake. Let’s go.”
“Now, wait.” Kollowrath was smiling. “I don’t want it to be said that I’m uncharitable. If you and your companions wish to shelter within the walls, I’m sure something could be arranged.”
“Sir,” the sergeant said.
“What kind of arrangement?” Winter said. Though, looking at Kollowrath’s face, she had a sinking feeling she already knew.
“The kind I imagine a group of young women alone on the road makes on a regular basis,” Kollowrath said. He stepped closer to Seka, who stiffened. The girl didn’t understand much Murnskai, but she could read Kollowrath’s tone.
“Sir!” the sergeant said. “We should go back—”
“Stop,” Leti said.
Kollowrath ignored both of them. He moved beside Seka and stroked her cheek with one hand. “I’ve never bedded a northern girl, you know,” he mused, fingers sliding down her arm. “They say they’re wild—”
Elka, Seka’s sister, raised her spear. Winter saw her moving as though in slow motion, and her own hand came up as she shouted in Murnskai, knowing the girl wouldn’t understand. Leti barked something in Haeta, and Elka hesitated, her weapon pointing at Kollowrath. Then the world went white, and Winter’s ears were ringing with the blast of a musket going off at close range.
For a moment everyone was still. The spear clattered from Elka’s fingers, and she brought her hand up to the hole in her furs, just below her collar. When she pressed it against the wound, red spurted around it. She blinked, and collapsed.
As if that had been a signal, everyone moved at once. Seka screamed, snatching up her own spear. Kollowrath scrambled backward, his face a mask of terror, and the sergeant was shouting something. The soldier holding a smoking musket backed away, while his companions raised their weapons.