Marcus walked two paces ahead of the rest of the group, talking with Salix. At first Marcus had tried to pry details out of Salix – surely the Florae had to know more about what he had taken to calling 'Gaius' Victoria note' than Marcus did! But Salix claimed they knew nothing.
“I told you,” she sighed, “I don't know what your brother's letter means. As far as I know, the babe is important because the Estavaci seemed to think she was important. She is clearly the child of some high-ranking Estavacan person. Perhaps a war-witch, since the baby doesn't have the dark eyes of a noble family. We were assigned to protect you and the child, but not because there is some imperial plot to take her from you! The only traitors here would be Estavacan. No offence intended to your slave girl, of course.”
Marcus glared at Salix; Salix glared back.
“Why would I lie to you, Marcus Marius?” She asked, “I have no reason to.”
“I suppose not,” Marcus agreed, “But you could still be wrong.”
Salix shook her head, “No, no. My instructions come right from the top. From the head of our Order, herself. Mistress Cicuta works directly for the Emperor himself. She would not tell me something that was wrong.”
Marcus sighed, and changed the subject.
~*~
Marcus and Salix continued talking, all through that long day. They discussed the possibility that they were being followed, but as the day grew longer and danger seemed more distant, the content of the conversation gradually changed. The talk turned to their jobs and their training, and then to their equipment. They both carried the same standard-issue short sword, which was the only type of sword Marcus had ever used. Salix, who had more experience in such things, preferred long, light swords of higher quality steel. Marcus did have an advantage over Salix in other areas, however; he discovered that the Florae never wore any armour heavier than leather. Salix herself rarely wore even that, relying on skill and stealth to keep her safe. She was fascinated by Marcus’ heavy armour, poking and prodding and investigating. Eventually he decided to return the favour by asking her about the cloak she continuously wore.
“You and Tsuga always wear those black cloaks. What’s the deal with that?” he asked conversationally.
Salix made a face. “It’s called a uniform, silly.”
Marcus shook his head, “No, the black trousers or leggings, and the shirt with the rose embroidered on it, those are your uniform. But the black cloak – both you and Tsuga wear it when you’re out of uniform. Even on warm days. There’s more to it than just a uniform, isn’t there?”
Salix sighed. “Fine. It’s . . . magical.”
“Magical?” Marcus said doubtfully, “Is that what allows you to do things that you shouldn’t be able to do? Things like change your mass and volume, not just your appearance?”
Salix nodded.
An odd light came into Marcus’ eyes, “What, really? How does it work?” He demanded, fingering the soft black fabric of the cloak.
“None of your business!” Salix retorted, pulling the cloth back out of Marcus's grasping fingers.
“Well, it can’t work like anything I’ve seen before. Nothing I’ve seen before can do that! Come on, Salix, at least give me a hint!”
Salix made a face, looking at the fold of cloth she still held in her hand. “Actually? I don’t really know how it works.” Sheepishly, she gave a little sigh, and continued, “ I know it’s something to do with how the cloth is made, I'm Able and trained enough to tell that, but how it actually works . . . it’s a secret.”
“You mean it’s a secret you can’t share with me, or you really and truly don’t know yourself?”
“I really and truly don’t know. I don’t think any of the Florae know. We don’t make them, they’re sent from – from somewhere far away. I don’t actually know where,” she shrugs, “and I don’t know who makes them.”
“Trade secret, I guess,” Marcus nodded.
“Yes,” Salix agreed, shrugging, “Trade secret. Something to do with the way the cloth is woven, and where it comes from. Mulberry tells me it's silk, but I wouldn't know about that. I thought all silk was delicate, and this isn't. Still, Mulberry sounded pretty sure.”
“She'd know,” Marcus shrugged, “She's Estavaca, after all.”
“Is she Able at all, Marcus Marius?” Flora Saix asked, curiously. “I hear it is very common among Estavacan nobility. As high as ten percent, perhaps.”
“No, she's no more Able than I am. I do think she was nobility, all right. And there's no way ten percent of the Estavacan nobility are Able. They'd win every battle if that were the case.”
Salix laughed, “For one, applying Ability to martial use takes a lot of training. You should spend more time with the Fire Corps, clerk. And besides, being Able isn't always a big thing. Small Abilities are much more common.”
“What do you know about it, Flora Salix?”
Salix laughed again, and said, “Watch.”
She held out her cupped right hand, her left hand holding her billowing black sleeve well clear. Then, a look of concentration came over her face, and she narrowed her eyes, staring at her palm.
A tiny, white and yellow lick of flame appeared on her palm, stretching up and outwards momentarily, until, with a little yelp, Salix shook her hand, extinguishing it.
“One of these days I'm really going to burn myself,” she grumbled, while Marcus gaped.
“Wow,” he said, “I didn't know you could do that.”
“If that pathetic little flame leaves you awestruck, Marcus Marius, you really do need to spend more time with the Fire Corps. It's the most common Ability, you know.”
“You should join the Fire Corps,” Marcus said.
“I'm a girl,” she laughed in reply, “And my control's not even good enough for me to be one of the maidens who tends the Sacred Fire. That's half the reason they made me a Flora, I think.”
“Then the temple maidens who tend the Sacred Fire need to join the Fire Corps,” he laughed, “And I think you're good.”
“You had best watch out with those compliments, Marcus Marius. I am betrothed, you know.”
“So I'd heard. Does he know you're Able?”
“Considering I used to burn him on purpose, when we were children? Oh, I think he knows,” Salix laughed, and they continued walking.
YOU ARE READING
The Baby and the Battlefield
FantasyA baby? On a battlefield? Marcus is a clerk in the Imperial army. When he finds an abandoned baby on a battlefield, he has no idea what to do with her. His best friend is no help; he thinks Marcus is a sucker for taking the kid in. The slave who end...
