Read Online To the High Redoubt by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Free Book Online Page A

the rabbit another turn.
    â€œGood Arkady-immai, not good Surata,” she insisted and accepted more dates from him.
    It puzzled Arkady to find her so determined, but he shrugged it off and helped himself to the rabbit, eating it off the point of his cinquedea. He wanted to ask her why she would not eat it, but she did not have enough words yet, either to explain or to understand his question. When he had eaten about half of the rabbit, he took one of the wineskins and drank some of the raw vintage. “Wine,” he said to Surata, holding it out to her. “Try it.”
    â€œWine?” She tasted it, made a face and handed it back. “Arkady-immai make wine, not Surata.”
    This was more surprising than her refusal to eat meat. “Try it again, Surata,” he urged her, putting the wineskin in her free hand.
    She pushed it away. “Not Surata.”
    He shrugged. “There’s another skin, if you change your mind,” he said and poured more of the wine down his throat. It eased his thirst and the ache in his body; he wanted to get drunk but could not bring himself to go that far. “I’ll save the rest of this for later,” he told Surata when he had half emptied the wineskin.
    â€œGood,” she declared, choosing the last of her dates to munch. “Arkady-immai…not hungry.”
    â€œNo, not anymore,” he said, taking a little more of the rabbit. The animal had been small, and he had to admit to himself that he was glad she did not want much—any—of it, though it still troubled him that she was not willing to eat meat. What would happen, he wondered, if that was all they had?
    He put most of the food into sacks and slung them in the spindly trees. As he worked, he said to Surata, “I want to get the food out of reach. There may be wild animals who want our food as much as we do. This way, there’s a pretty good chance they won’t get it.”
    â€œAh,” she nodded.
    â€œHow much of that made sense to you?” Arkady wondered aloud.
    â€œMore,” she answered, turning her face toward him, and once again giving him the eerie feeling that she could see him and was watching him.
    â€œThat’s certain,” he said quietly, adding more branches to the fire. “We’ll have to sleep close tonight, Surata.”
    Again she nodded, and Arkady was more troubled than before. “Good ground.”
    He was puzzled by this announcement but did not argue with her. “Yes, I suppose it is.” He got up and started to unroll his blanket. “It’s dark now. I…” he faltered. “I’m sleepy, my arm hurts and I’m stiff from riding. You must be too.”
    â€œDark,” she said.
    â€œDark. Not sun. Night.” He cleared his throat as he stared at her eyes.
    â€œNight. Dark.” She looked pleased.
    â€œThe blanket’s almost ready,” he went on in a determined way. “You can lie down when you like.” He wished they had enough water to wash with, or a means to shave. His whole body felt grimy, and he was faintly embarrassed to be too near Surata. It was one thing to go without bathing or washing when surrounded by soldiers; but in church or with a woman of quality, then it was proper for a captain, even a disgraced captain, to present himself in a manner worthy of Court.
    â€œArkady-immai,” she said as she finished licking her fingers. “Arkady-immai, blanket, down.”
    â€œYes, it’s down.” he said, patting it, then reaching for her hand so that she could touch it.
    â€œNot. Arkady-immai down.” She shoved his shoulder, not roughly but with great determination. “Clothes down.”
    Arkady blinked. “What…?”
    She paid no attention to his question, but began to unwrap his arm. She touched the skin around the cut and sniffed at it. “Not good,” she announced.
    â€œI know that,” he responded. He had known