Stalking Darkness

end the race in a tie.
    “I hear they always finish together,” Marten grumbled as the rest of the riders reined in around the winners. A few of the others smirked at this. Sexual relations in the ranks were frowned on, and a careless pregnancy got both parties cashiered, but it happened, nonetheless. Still celibate herself, Beka chose to turn a blind eye to who was sharing blankets with who. A number of her riders had come into the regiment already paired, including Kaylah and Zir. Others, like Mirn and Steb, had formed bonds during the march.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Braknil had advised after she’d noticed certain blankets moving late at night. “So long as it’s honorable, it’ll just make them fight the enemy all the harder. No one wants to look a coward to their lover.”
    Kaylah and Zir already seemed proof of this; during training they’d competed fiercely against each other and everyone else. Kaylah was a pretty blonde who looked almost too fragile for a warrior’s life, but she was like a centaur on horseback, and could match anyone in the turma with a bow. Zir, a young, black-bearded bear of a man, had Sakor’s own sword arm mounted or afoot.
    The trees turned out to be a thick pine forest. Skirting along its edge, they struck a well-packed road that led through in the direction of the town. Just before noon they came out on the far side into a valley overlooking the town. It was a prosperous-looking place, with a palisade for protection and a busy market square.
    Their dark green field tunics attracted less attention than their dress tabards might have, but the townspeople still looked askance at their swords, bows, and chain mail.
    Better us than the Plenimaran marines
, Beka thought, pulling her gorget from the neck of her tunic to show her rank.
    Their Skalan gold was welcome enough, however. In less than an hour’s time they’d found all the supplies they’d been sent for—parchment, flints, wax, honey, meal and flour, dried fruit andbeans, salt, smoked meats, ale, four fat sheep and a pig, oats and winter fodder for the horses—and hired three carters to haul the goods back to the column under escort.
    Her riders had also found time to purchase items for themselves and those left behind with the rest of the turma: tobacco, playing cards, sweetmeats, fruit, and writing materials were always in demand. Some even had chickens and geese slung from their saddlebows. Mercalle shopped for the other sergeants; Portus was partial to nuts and raisins, Braknil to Mycenian cider brandy.
    Mercalle glanced up at the sun as the carters secured the last of their load on their sledges and hitched up their oxen teams. “The column should have just about caught up by now. It’ll make a shorter return trip for the carters.”
    “Everyone back?” asked Beka, counting faces.
    “All accounted for, Lieutenant.”
    “Good. You, Tobin, and Arna take the point. The rest of us will ride escort with the sledges. We’ll switch off point riders now and then, just to keep them from getting bored.”
    Mercalle saluted, and galloped off with the two riders. Beka and the rest fell in around the sledges.
    No one seemed to mind the slower pace; it was pleasant to saunter along with the sun on their backs and a cold breeze in their faces. Leaving town by the same road they’d entered, they wended their way back up into the pines.
    “Do you travel this road often?” Beka asked, striking up a conversation with the lead driver.
    The man twitched the reins across his team’s broad backs and nodded. “Often enough spring to autumn,” he replied, his accent thick as oat porridge. “My brothers and me drive goods up to Torburn-on-the-River. Boats take it on to the coast.”
    “That must be a long trip at this pace.”
    He shrugged. “Three weeks up, three back.”
    “Have you heard much news here about a war coming?”
    The carter spared her a sour glance. “I should think we have. Seeing as how we’re like to get trampled once again when you lot and the Plenimarans go at each other. There’s some say we ought to just trade land with one or t’other of ye, so’s ye can fight without bothering us.”
    Beka bristled a bit at this. “We’re on our way east to keep that from happening. Otherwise, your armies will be left on their own when Plenimar comes after your land and the river.”
    “They ain’t took it yet. And you lot ain’t never stopped ’em from wading in to try it.”
    Beka bit back a