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"Why?" the original cavalryman scoffed, never looking away from Fain while he raised a large chunk of wood purposefully overhead.
If there was a verbal answer from the simpleminded soldier, it wasn't audible over the sodden thump and the crunch of bones as the hard-driven plank crashed into the foursome.
Fain stepped back as the cavalrymen hit the ground, then grabbed the tabletop before the improvised battering ram could be drawn back for another swing.
"Good job, Erkum. Now, eet's time to pocking leaf."
"But I never got a beer," the private complained.
"Take one," the proprietor said from behind his pile of kegs. "Take a keg. Just get out of here before the Guard arrives."
* * *
"They destroy our taverns and i
"Yes, and that's another thing. What with the shortages and all, we don't need all these soldiers waving their money around. It's just driving up prices and leaving the pe
Sual Dal, the representative for the cloth merchant's guild, paused, trying to find the word he wanted.
"Pe
"Don't take this so damned lightly, Til!" the guildsman snapped. "I don't see any of these folks buying sails or any of their silver lining the pockets of my guild. It's all going for beer and cha
"And fish," Til countered. "And whatever other consumables can be found in the city. For that matter, there was a large purchase of fine woven materials lately, wasn't there?"
"It was all material bound for Sindi," the guildsman said with a gesture of resignation. "We practically took a loss."
"Practically and actually are two different things," Til replied. "The problem isn't the soldiers from Diaspra. Nor is it the Northerners. Or even the refugees. The problem is the Boman, and until we get rid of them, we're all going to be taking a loss."
"That's all well and good to say, Til, but it's not so easy to do," Quan said, twisting his rings again.
"No," Til agreed. "It won't be easy, and it won't be cheap, but until it's done, we're all going to do nothing but lose money. Sooner or later, it's going to catch up with us. I'm set pretty well, but I understand that you, Quan, had already paid for a large shipment of copper ore coming out of Sindi. Yes?"
"Yes," the businessman growled.
"And are you ever going to get that shipment?"
"No."
"And how are the rest of your investments doing? Well?" He paused, but there was no answer. "Thought not. As for sails, I don't see any ships being built, do you, Sual?"
"No," the guildmaster admitted.
"On the other hand, the humans are pla
"Ah?" the guildmaster grunted. "Really? That's . . . interesting news."
"But to build those ships, they need materials—lots of materials. They were going to just buy some of the ships that had been laid up and take them apart, but if we could retake D'Sley and get the materials from there, it would be much better for them. And, of course, that would mean that they wouldn't be cutting up the already available sails from the ships they'd purchase to make their new, special sails."
"Ah."
"And as for you, Quan, they're discussing a radical new version of arquebus and a new-style bombard. All of them will have to be made somewhere, and if I recall correctly, your foundries aren't doing a lot of business just this minute, are they?"
"Ah." The industrialist thought about that for a moment. "Where's the money for all of this going to come from?"
"Where did the money all these soldiers have been throwing around come from?"
Wes Til leaned back and watched as the concept settled into their minds. Oh, yes, that Eleanora O'Casey was a sly one. Better to do anything to get her on her way before she decided to just go ahead and take over K'Vaern's Cove lock, stock, and barrel! But for now, at least, they were all headed the same way, and O'Casey's shrewd contributions were pushing the ship along nicely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Krindi Fain stood braced outside the company commander's office and willed his heart to stop. It had been three days since the fight in the bar, but he was certain the Guard had finally tracked them down. He'd heard through the grapevine that the cavalry shits were still in the hospital—one of them had been touch and go, according to the scuttlebutt—and two guardsmen had been in with the CO since early morning. That could only mean one thing, and when the summons had come, he'd nearly run for it. K'Vaern's Cove was an easy city to get lost in, after all, but he'd finally decided it was better to face his punishment.
"Fain. Come!" the CO called.
The commander was a regular, a young officer who'd been a sergeant in the Guard of God before the humans turned up. He'd initially resented being placed with the pikes, until it became clear that the New Model Army was where everything was happening. He had, however, already had quite a career before his posting to the regiment, including a brawl in the distant past with some Northerner cavalry that had left him with only one horn and blind in one eye. Maybe that would mitigate the punishment.
"This who you're looking for?" the commander asked one of the guardsmen with a head jerk in Fain's direction.
"You Krindi Fain?" the guardsman asked.
The corporal knew he was in trouble now. It wasn't just a couple of guardsmen, but one of the Guard's underofficers.
"Yes, I am," he answered. Best to keep it simple. The more you said, the more likely you were to make a mistake.
"Good," the underofficer said. "Little thing, aren't you? Sergeant Julian made it sound like you were five hurtongs high and breathed fire."
"I don't know how I'm possibly going to run a company if my best people keep getting pulled out from under me," the CO groused.
"So this isn't—" Fain stopped and backed up before an over-active mouth could get him in the trouble he might just have skated out of after all. "What is this about? Captain?"
"We're going to change weapons again—you knew that, right?" the company commander asked.
"Yes, Captain. Muskets, or some word like that."
"Well, that's been changed again," the Guard underofficer said. "The weapon's still being designed, but it's going to be something else—something called a 'rifle.' " He snorted. "Arquebuses may be all very well for those pussies in the Navy, but they've never worked half the time in the field, so I don't see these 'rifles' working any better. But you're one of the ones pointed out by the humans as a good person to participate in what they call 'weapons development.' "
"Oh," Fain said faintly.
"You're to take one other member of your squad, as well," the CO informed him. "Who?"
The young NCO hesitated for only a moment.
"Erkum," he said.
"Are you sure?" the CO asked with a laugh.
"Yes, Captain," Fain replied. "I know it sounds fu
"Good enough." The officer stood up behind his low desk and offered his true-hand, human fashion. "Good luck, and do the Regiment proud."
"I will, Captain." The NCO turned to the guardsmen and made a gesture of question. "What now?"
"Get your gear loaded up," the underofficer said, and jerked a true-hand's thumb at his fellow guardsman. "Tarson here will escort you to your new quarters." The officer grunted a laugh. "Congratulations, you're moving down in the world."