Read Online Demontech: Gulf Run by David Sherman - Free Book Online
Authors: David Sherman
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encampment. Spinner had to scurry to keep up with the nomad’s long strides.
Haft watched the middle-size children scamper off with the covered trenchers and waterskins for the pickets, amazed and delighted as always at their eagerness to fetch and carry and turn every chore into a game. The children seemed to think taking food and water to the sentries was a reward, a special treat, and performed that chore more eagerly than any other. Maybe it was: the soldiers and other men on sentry duty usually allowed the children to stay with them for a time and “help” watch. The children believed that by “helping watch” they were performing an important duty and being treated like grown-ups instead of children.
“Haft!”
He turned to the voice and smiled at Maid Marigold. She had been a serving girl at Eikby’s Middle of the Forest Inn—when there’d been an Eikby and a Middle of the Forest Inn.
“It’s your turn,” she said, smiling at him and holding up a bowl.
His smile broadened and he joined the group gathering around the cookfire with its boiling pot.
Fletcher, Alyline, and Doli were already there, as was Maid Primrose, who had worked alongside Maid Marigold at the inn. Maid Marigold and Doli had worked with Maid Primrose to prepare dinner. Spinner and Silent joined the group right after Haft took his place on a log and accepted the steaming bowl of stew from his lover.
“Where’s Zweepee?” Alyline asked.
“She said she’d be here once she saw all the wounded were fed,” Fletcher replied.
Alyline nodded, Zweepee took her responsibilities seriously. Spinner and Haft had instituted a policy Lord Gunny had brought with him from—from—from wherever he’d come from: the leaders didn’t eat until everybody else was served.
A proper commander always feeds his people before he eats himself. That makes sure the commander has provided enough food for his people,
Lord Gunny wrote in the
Handbook for Sea Soldiers. Any commander who doesn’t take care of his people will lose his war.
The caravan carried enough food to last the trip to Dartmutt at the head of Princedon Gulf, enough and more. But what if Dartmutt didn’t have enough food to feed the influx of refugees who must be congregating there? So caring for food and gathering more was necessary for the caravan. As they moved along the road, the women and older children who weren’t needed to move animals and wagons along or tend to babies and oldsters often roamed under the trees in search of mushrooms, tubers, or other edibles. The point and flanking patrols kept watch for game as well as Jokapcul and bandits, and brought in what they could catch without neglecting their primary duties. Pairs of hunters prowled the forest beyond the flanks and point in search of game. They didn’t find much; it seemed even the animals of the forest were fleeing the invaders.
For a few moments there were only the slurping and chewing sounds of eating around the fire. An occasional voice was raised elsewhere, mostly the cries of children happy to be traveling on what they thought was a grand adventure. Horses snorted in a nearby tether line, or pawed at the ground. The thin smoke from the fire kept most of the buzzing insects at a respectful distance. Wolf quietly gnawed on a bone; he’d dined earlier on one of the Jokapcul horses killed in the battle. But it wasn’t polite to mention that—the people weren’t anywhere near ready to eat horse meat.
Spinner kept looking to the south, though he couldn’t see very far through the trees. Looking into trees that blocked his view was easier than looking where he’d have to see Doli and Maid Primrose pointedly ignoring him.
Once the edge was off his hunger, he asked Silent, “When do you think they’ll come again?”
Silent swallowed loudly and belched before answering. “I saw or heard nothing but the Jokaps you dealt with on our back trail. Neither did the Borderers who scouted deep back.” He looked
Haft watched the middle-size children scamper off with the covered trenchers and waterskins for the pickets, amazed and delighted as always at their eagerness to fetch and carry and turn every chore into a game. The children seemed to think taking food and water to the sentries was a reward, a special treat, and performed that chore more eagerly than any other. Maybe it was: the soldiers and other men on sentry duty usually allowed the children to stay with them for a time and “help” watch. The children believed that by “helping watch” they were performing an important duty and being treated like grown-ups instead of children.
“Haft!”
He turned to the voice and smiled at Maid Marigold. She had been a serving girl at Eikby’s Middle of the Forest Inn—when there’d been an Eikby and a Middle of the Forest Inn.
“It’s your turn,” she said, smiling at him and holding up a bowl.
His smile broadened and he joined the group gathering around the cookfire with its boiling pot.
Fletcher, Alyline, and Doli were already there, as was Maid Primrose, who had worked alongside Maid Marigold at the inn. Maid Marigold and Doli had worked with Maid Primrose to prepare dinner. Spinner and Silent joined the group right after Haft took his place on a log and accepted the steaming bowl of stew from his lover.
“Where’s Zweepee?” Alyline asked.
“She said she’d be here once she saw all the wounded were fed,” Fletcher replied.
Alyline nodded, Zweepee took her responsibilities seriously. Spinner and Haft had instituted a policy Lord Gunny had brought with him from—from—from wherever he’d come from: the leaders didn’t eat until everybody else was served.
A proper commander always feeds his people before he eats himself. That makes sure the commander has provided enough food for his people,
Lord Gunny wrote in the
Handbook for Sea Soldiers. Any commander who doesn’t take care of his people will lose his war.
The caravan carried enough food to last the trip to Dartmutt at the head of Princedon Gulf, enough and more. But what if Dartmutt didn’t have enough food to feed the influx of refugees who must be congregating there? So caring for food and gathering more was necessary for the caravan. As they moved along the road, the women and older children who weren’t needed to move animals and wagons along or tend to babies and oldsters often roamed under the trees in search of mushrooms, tubers, or other edibles. The point and flanking patrols kept watch for game as well as Jokapcul and bandits, and brought in what they could catch without neglecting their primary duties. Pairs of hunters prowled the forest beyond the flanks and point in search of game. They didn’t find much; it seemed even the animals of the forest were fleeing the invaders.
For a few moments there were only the slurping and chewing sounds of eating around the fire. An occasional voice was raised elsewhere, mostly the cries of children happy to be traveling on what they thought was a grand adventure. Horses snorted in a nearby tether line, or pawed at the ground. The thin smoke from the fire kept most of the buzzing insects at a respectful distance. Wolf quietly gnawed on a bone; he’d dined earlier on one of the Jokapcul horses killed in the battle. But it wasn’t polite to mention that—the people weren’t anywhere near ready to eat horse meat.
Spinner kept looking to the south, though he couldn’t see very far through the trees. Looking into trees that blocked his view was easier than looking where he’d have to see Doli and Maid Primrose pointedly ignoring him.
Once the edge was off his hunger, he asked Silent, “When do you think they’ll come again?”
Silent swallowed loudly and belched before answering. “I saw or heard nothing but the Jokaps you dealt with on our back trail. Neither did the Borderers who scouted deep back.” He looked
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