The Dowry Blade by Cherry Potts

group of mercenaries, I was pretty good with a sword by then. I’ve fought under Phelan’s command many times since then; he’s a great soldier – and quite the politician too, when he bothers.’
    ‘So important! Who’d have thought that a tiny band like yours would be so significant?’
    Brede’s voice strove for innocence and failed. Tegan felt needled and let it show.
    ‘I command over forty swords.’
    ‘And where are they now?’
    ‘At winter quarters.’
    ‘And who’s commanding them?’
    ‘Chad.’
    Brede quirked an eyebrow.
    ‘Not Maeve?’
    ‘No. She chose to stay with me, so she lost the chance. She could have had the command, but it was her choice, and I’m glad she made it.’
    Faine walked into the forge, and glanced at the two of them, Brede, blood encrusted bandages still in one hand, Tegan, still with her shirt unlaced. Brede threw the bandages into the fire; Tegan laced her shirt, and wondered how long Faine had been listening, whether she had heard what had been said about Tegan’s allegiance. Brede handed a length of iron to Faine, and turned to the bellows.
    ‘So what about the rest of them, how did they end up soldiers?’ she asked, as she settled to her task.
    Tegan gazed thoughtfully at Brede, wondering why she was at last taking an interest in this.
    ‘Soldiering is a profession of last resort for most people. The drought has brought many to it who would never have thought of themselves as warriors. No one would choose to put their life at risk so regularly unless they had a considerable ability and very little choice. Very few people are born into it. One or two, I suppose, if their parents were soldiers; but birthing and raising children as a warrior is something of a struggle. Maeve’s an exception. She and Riordan had a mercenary captain for a father and an archer for a mother.’ Tegan paused and grinned. ‘Maeve was amazing even as a stripling. She’s the fastest thing I’ve ever seen, she knows absolutely what she is doing with a blade, no matter what kind it is.’ Tegan’s happy recollection waned in the face of absence and she was silent. At last she shook herself and started again.
    ‘Inir, now, he started as a scout, same as me; but I think his parents ran a water mill. He’s better at it than I ever was. He’s good with the landscape as well as with people – he really knows how to melt into the scenery.’
    Brede tried to remember Inir, and failed. She remembered noticing that someone was missing when she had confronted Maeve outside the village gate; that must have been Inir.
    ‘When you say ‘scout’ do you mean ‘spy’?’ she asked.
    Tegan took a sharp breath and shot Faine a look. Faine refused to intervene.
    ‘In some contexts, that is certainly what I’ve done, and Inir; but Corla’s a genuine scout: what she can’t work out from the landscape isn’t worth knowing. And she’s a healer of course. Her parents were healers.’
    Brede nodded, she well believed Corla knew how to work the landscape; she’d not have found a way down to the valley else. Tegan continued her list.
    ‘Cei – Goddess knows where Cei came from, or why; but he’s a tactician – or would be if he weren’t so given to believing the worst of every situation. I sometimes think he tried his hand as an assassin, but found it too lonely.’
    Faine and Brede stared at her aghast, and then laughed, Faine because she found it funny, Brede in spite of herself. Faine, pulled gently on Brede’s braid, and said,
    ‘No smiths, then?’
    Brede shook her off.
    ‘What about Balin?’
    ‘Balin started life as a sailor, but he was always getting picked on, and learnt to defend himself. Having someone that big around helps to win us contracts. Merchants are impressed by size, but –’
    Tegan stopped herself. Brede glanced sideways at Faine, who chose to ignore the blatant veering away from something dangerous. She knew she had taken a risk sheltering Tegan, she was happy to not