The Slime Farmer 52 The Missing Caravans 5

The exhaustion of the last day caused Defi to wake when the sun was already clearing the mountains in the east. He greeted Geven's wife Lemeris and offered to assist in the kitchen. She sent him for water from the communal well.

Geven stomped into the dining hall, face dark as a stormcloud, another two people just as mad in his wake, as Defi was topping up the water barrel in the kitchen. He caught sight of Defi through the doorway, then recited with full sarcasm. "His eminence the major, in his wisdom, has declined assistance and has determined to take on the bandit camp with only his men in deference to the safety of the civilian population."

Defi put the buckets down. A sense of urgency surged in him. His mind raced. "How many men does he have?"

Geven grunted in cantankerous thought. "Nearly a hundred, from what I saw. Including the cavalry troopers."

Defi frowned in thought. "How many soldiers in a platoon?"

"Depends, really. Why are you asking?" Geven looked impatient, threw himself on one of the cushioned low-backed chairs around the dining table.

Defi now had confirmation that it was not Leraine and Kern's taste in dining furniture that was bad, considering the carved frogs and wolves all over Geven and Lemaris' dining hall.

Frogs and wolves? They weren't even from the same habitat.

Defi suspected a folktale of some sort.

It was not the time to ask. He answered his host's question. "One of the old soldiers said the mercenaries' water casks could provide for a platoon on double rations for a sennight."

"Not a reliable way of gauging numbers," commented the man who had come in with Geven. "Don't know how many times they refill their water supply."

"Just my curiosity."

The man raised a brow, but answered. "If deployed in a warzone, no less than fifty soldiers. Up to a hundred if prudent, but not much more. They don't let green vice-captains handle more than that."

"The major has a hundred?"

"They're a training group. Still just learned to march properly, from what I saw. The major's probably on leave or in charge of a fort somewhere."

"What's the relative combat potential of a new soldier?"

"Half a year of learning weapons. No experience."

Defi inhaled, disbelieving. "They're not even half-trained?"

Geven pointed at him. "See? Defi's talking sense."

"Most of the foot are tribute soldiers, kid. More than half won't stay past the required three years. The empire's going to make use of them as soon as they can, to the most that they can. You think they'd waste valuable time and resources on recruits that are just going to leave? The soldiers they give advanced training to are officers and the twenty-year career contractors."

The woman, who so far remained silent, spoke. "You said 'mercenaries'."

"Yes?"

She frowned at him. "Everyone else thinks we're up against bandits."

"The man I fought called himself a mercenary for hire, used to be in the military, and he called his leader 'captain'. The major knows this. I realize some people might hire bandits but…"

"You didn't tell us this yesterday." The man whose name he still did not know said mildly.

"Did I not." Defi frowned. He thought he did.

"Come on, Ral, he was running for his life," Geven said.

Ral nodded.

"This changes things," the woman said. "A security company captain rarely moves with less than a hundred people. The usefulness of scouting cavalry is limited in the canyons."

"There is no place to hide a hundred people up there," disagreed Geven.

"Close to the trade road, yes. But it's not like the forsaken place has been mapped thoroughly." Ral sighed. "The government won't undertake it for the expense and the hunters are a closemouthed lot."

"Security company," murmured Defi. There were few mentions of them in the books, but from a particular point of view, having no set loyalty, they could be seen as a mercenary combat group.

"We're at war in the Jebrimean peninsula colony, kid." Ral thought his murmur was incredulity. "Apart from the military, you think the emperor would allow mercenaries form their own groups in the mainland? It's uncommon to see a security company stray like this however. What the Chel's in those caravans that's so important they'd risk losing their charter?"

Security companies were the government's answer to the lack of funds and people to keep citizens of the empire safe. With military personnel being funnelled across the sea to defend the Jebrimean colony, and commoners not allowed private armies, they certified former soldiers and hunters to create local defense groups under the purview of the provincial governors.

Security companies supported themselves, with only minimal governmental intervention. It had been fifty years since the start of the Jebrimean conflict, thirty years since the first security company was chartered. By the current time, security companies were well-established in areas that were not noble domains.

What Ral said was true. Despite little direct support from the government, security companies had over the years petitioned for added benefits unavailable to even a regular military company. There was no reason to resort to banditry.

"The point is they could be outnumbered!" Geven nearly roared in irritation, jolting Defi out of his thoughts.

"What do we do then? Force an army major, who most likely is some bleeding noble or other, to bring us along? Do you want us flogged?" The woman's voice was quieter, but the strain and fury was evident. "My cousin is part of that caravan, Geven. You are not the only one with family in danger."

"I want to speak to him, is that so—!"

"With your temper? You'll yell at him for stupidity or something. You really want to die."

A sound clattered against the table. Lemeris looked at them mildly, bowls of soup on the table. "No one is dying. So you better eat before going to do whatever you have to do. If you want to fight, do it outside."

Ral grinned. "Sorry, lovely Lemeris, we really just came to take the kid."

"Who has not eaten yet." Lemeris narrowed her eyes at the man, whose grin became slowly more uncertain. She huffed, opened the breadbox to take out two loaves, sliced them in half, the top and bottom coming apart.

She buttered each half and packed them full of the meat and vegetables from the soup. Defi watched in interest as she added fresh greens and large chunks of cheese.

She put the halves together, wrapped them in cloth and pressed them into Defi's hands, to his surprise. "Don't work too hard, young man."

"Oh. Ah yes. Thank you." Defi glanced at Geven, who looked suddenly despondent as his wife handed him nothing and went back to the kitchen. He took one of the wrapped loaves and offered it to the man.

"Young man," said Lemeris, slicing herbs without looking at them, the knife flashing in the morning sunlight. "You will not insult your host by leaving even a single crumb for the rats, won't you? It was made for you after all."

Defi and Geven both retracted their hands, the stuffed bread still in Defi's possession. "Of course, madam. I am grateful for your generosity."

They quickly left the house.

Defi unwrapped one of the loaves and bit into it. He inhaled the scent of hot tender spicy meat and flavorful cheese. The crunch of greens and bread crust was a delicious symphony in the cool morning air.

Geven glared at him. "You're really eating it?"

"I can't hold two loaves in my hands all day."

"Your fault for fighting with Tamal inside your house. Don't you know, you should only fight with a woman who is your wife?"

"Coming from a man who has not managed to keep a wife for the last ten years," sneered Geven, "sorry if I don't believe it."

Defi took another bite, then startled when the second loaf was taken from his hands, a triumphant laugh sounding in his ear.

Before he could protest, the woman, Tamal, had unwrapped the loaf and crunched into it.

Defi glanced back at the house, seeing Geven do the same in his peripheral vision. To both their relief, the house was out of sight.

Geven turned his glare on Tamal.

She ignored him and bit into the loaf once more. "Lemeris really is the best cook."

Defi snorted in amusement, took out a knife, halved his loaf and gave the other half to Ral, whose stomach he heard give a little rumble.

Ral ruffled his hair, to Defi's displeasure. He stepped away.

"Oh, alright." Tamal noticed, sliced her own loaf and gave part of it to Geven.

The somewhat pleasant interlude lasted only a few minutes. All of them could not forget the seriousness of the matter at hand.

"You know you could just track the scouting party's trail without me," Defi said. It was what he did yesterday, before the sounds of people at his back made him veer away from the tracks and navigate by major landmarks only. He was slightly lost when the Genlet search party came upon him.

"If they're smart, they'd have laid false trails already."

That was true.

"I could—"

"Defi!"

He turned his head to the anxious and relieved shout.t

A familiar head of pale brown was turned toward him, the horse trotting urgently. There were several others from the Lowpool in her wake.

"Helan, I thought you went back to the Lowpool?"

"I—Defi, my brother?"

His face blanked. Now that he looked, the male archer had the same grey eyes and high cheekbones as the young woman before him. He wondered why the archer had given him some odd looks.

"We were ambushed. Natan told us to scatter. I do not know if your brother was one of the ones who got away." He did see some of the others dash into the trees. He doubted one of them was her brother, however. All those who jumped to Natan's order were former soldiers.

"How did you get away, eh?" One of Helan's companions frowned at him.

"He flung himself off a cliff, didn't he?"

Defi turned.

Another familiar face grinned at him. "Thought you dead, boy."

"…Cuthes, wasn't it?" He looked at the bandaged limbs of the man, concerned.

"You jumped off a cliff?" Ral asked. "You didn't tell us that either."

Defi's quick smile at him was a little strained.

"We…we're not leaving him and the others there, are we?" Helan gripped her reins tightly.

Ral shook his head. "The military said to disband the searchers. We were going to try and convince the major to reconsider."

One of the Lowpool contingent scoffed. "Military doesn't have a good reputation in the mainland. Not surprising they want this to be a military victory. You won't convince anyone."

"We can at least try. Defi, you spoke with the major yesterday, didn't you. Will he see you again?"

"Doubtful." The major did not look like someone who wavered on a decision he'd already made.

Despite his doubts, he soon stood before the military encampment, arguing with the guards. The encampment was busy as a hive of bees, tents being taken down on one end, and on the other were lines of soldiers already marching down the road.

"What's going on here?" Two people neared.

"Vice-captain Dereve, vice-captain Gerac!"

"We wish to see the major." Defi said directly. He could not help but feel impatient. Can't they already head for the canyons?

"You're the boy from yesterday."

Defi did not think the other was any older than he. "We spoke then, yes."

"You have already given your report," the vice-captain said. "The major does not have time for every whelp that thinks himself important."

"Oi now," said Ral from behind him.

"Raber," cautioned his companion, a laugh on his lips, smiling at Defi as if the other were joking.

This Raber was the vice-captain that was sent to the Lowpool?

"You appear to have some problem with me," Defi mused. "We have not met before."

"I have heard of you." The vice-captain looked at him in disdain.

"How strange. I've not been here long enough to be known."

"Enough to become a cheat and a liar, I suppose."

"Raber." His companion was not smiling anymore.

Defi tilted his head, eyes cold. "We are on the verge of battle. This alone saves you. You will meet me on the field after we return from the mountains. I will have your word."

"A farmer boy, challenging me? How quaint. You have my word. I will tell the major myself."

"You are free to choose your best weapon."

The other scoffed, walked away. "You have lost already, you fool."

"That remains to be seen."

The other vice-captain stayed. "Sir, this is not a wise course of action."

"No. But it is something that must be done."

The vice-captain wavered, then nodded. "I will convey your respects to the major, and inform him of the occurrence. I will say however that the military does not involve itself in personal challenges."

Defi turned away, the hand that had grasped the hilt of his sword clenching and releasing.

He bowed. "I apologize greatly. It appears we must coordinate with the military forces without their knowing."

Helan turned away, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

The others stared at him, in varying shades of surprise and disbelief.

Chapter end