The Wrong Trail Knife

by Jane Fletcher

jane.fletcher@virgin.net

Disclaimers: Please see chapter one

Chapter twenty-one – Crossroads

"Did you get an answer as to why Lieutenant Bergstrom didn’t set fire to the mill?" The ranger asking the question had the three stars of a divisional commander on her shoulder badge.

Sanchez nodded. "Yes ma’am. It came out when I was questioning her sister. It was part of Lieutenant Bergstrom’s plan to prevent herself becoming a suspect." The militiawoman’s eyes flicked briefly in Katryn’s direction. "Private Nagata’s name had been linked to the murder of her previous sergeant, and Lieutenant Bergstrom knew she was a skilled archer. She also knew Sergeant Coppelli was conducting an unofficial investigation into the murder. For Lieutenant Bergstrom’s plan it was necessary to shoot Sergeant Coppelli, and for Private Nagata to disappear without trace. Bergstrom calculated that if Sergeant Coppelli was found dead from arrow wounds, and Private Nagata vanished, it would be assumed Sergeant Coppelli had obtained proof of her guilt, and that she murdered her accuser before fleeing. The investigation would take the form of a search for Private Nagata – which would doubtless fail as we’d be looking for a fugitive rather than a corpse."

The divisional commander nodded her head and turned to confer quietly with the officer sitting beside her. In the short lull in questioning Chip let her eyes run around the room. They were in a meeting hall in the divisional headquarters at Eastford. Apart from herself, Katryn and Sanchez, there were also present Captain LeCoup, Lieutenant Ritche and as many members of divisional staff as could wrangle their way into the room. Rumours had been rattling around town ever since the three of them had arrived from Roadend the previous evening. Now was the first of the official inquiry sessions.

Another of the officers sitting at the front leant forward. "You said earlier that you thought Lieutenant Bergstrom was the one to kill Sergeant Ellis."

"Yes ma’am." Sanchez replied.

The major frowned, "I read your original report. As I remember the details it’s hard to see how she could have done so."

"Sergeant Coppelli has some ideas about that. Perhaps she might be the best one to explain."

All eyes in the room fixed on Chip. "Sergeant?" The major invited her to speak.

"Er… yes." Chip quickly marshalled her thoughts. "What I think happened was Lieutenant Bergstrom arranged to meet Sergeant Ellis in the stores. Before we left Roadsend I was able to talk to Quartermaster Adebeyo and she confirmed Lieutenant Bergstrom did leave the room briefly to collect a book from the office. The quartermaster hadn’t mentioned it before because she thought Lieutenant Bergstrom hadn’t been gone long enough to kill Sergeant Ellis. However it would have taken mere seconds to commit the murder. Afterwards Lieutenant Bergstrom hid Sergeant Ellis’s empty knife belt inside her jacket, and rejoined the quartermaster. As the officer in charge of the barracks she knew she’d be called as soon as the body was discovered, giving her the chance to initiate the search to discover whose knife was missing. It needs to be confirmed with Sergeant Sivarajah, but I’m sure you’ll find Bergstrom sent her to look in the D patrol bunk-house while she herself was left alone to put Private Nagata’s knife in the empty belt and hang it in Sergeant Ellis’s room."

"Yes, of course." the major said in enlightenment. "Did the sister confirm any of this?"

Sanchez was the one to answer. "No. Apparently the two have hardly spoken for years. All she knew about were the plans for the murder attempt on Sergeant Coppelli and Private Nagata. She was the one who arranged for the message to lure them to the mill."

The officers at the table conferred again quietly and a staff sergeant was sent to find some old dispatches. The discussion moved on to queries about Val Bergstrom’s precise last words in what was, to Chip’s mind, a rather forlorn attempt to link her to every other unsolved crime of the previous two decades. Night had fallen before everyone had run out of questions.

The divisional commander concluded the meeting, speaking slowly and sombrely. "I trust this will finally draw a line under the unfortunate events in the 12th. There have been shadows hanging over the squadron for too long. And I think it is owed to Captain Dolokov to have the story first hand, rather than be sent a written dispatch, or worse still, hear it from gossip. Lieutenant Sanchez; would you be able to go with Sergeant Coppelli to Clemswood and give the report in person?" The divisional commander’s voice was just questioning enough to make it sound like a request rather than an order. Although she outranked the lieutenant, the militiawoman fell into a different chain of command.

"Yes, ma’am." Sanchez agreed.

"Good. If possible leave tomorrow before the rumours get out… Yes Captain?"

LeCoup had made a polite bid for attention. "Merely that I think, for completeness, Private Nagata should go as well."

"Very well." the divisional commander agreed before moving on to other closing remarks.

As they left the room Chip caught Katryn’s eye, noting the conflicting emotions. Katryn would have to face her ex-comrades, the women who had beaten her for a crime she hadn’t committed – but she would be facing them with proof of her innocence. Many people, probably most, would look forward to it with smug satisfaction. Chip was familiar enough with Katryn to know that wasn’t the way her mind worked. However it would allow Katryn to draw her own, personal line under the events in the 12th. Chip was sure it was the reason LeCoup had asked for Katryn’s inclusion. Chip sometimes suspected that, under her caustic exterior, LeCoup nursed a protective maternal affection for her troops.

**********

It was a two day journey to reach the Clemswood barracks. Sanchez, Chip and Katryn planned the overnight stop at a crossroads inn. However, when they reached it just before sunset, they discovered they were not the only ones with the same plan. Three caravans of traders had also arrived that evening. The stables were full and the hubbub from the tap-room threatened to lift the rafters. The harassed inn-keeper regretfully told them there was not even a shared bed to be found in the common room.

Chip was considering the prospect of sleeping on the floor of the tap-room (and not for the first time in her life) when a local farmer overheard and offered them lodgings for the night. The woman even refused payment. Apparently rangers had removed a pride of snow-lions from her farm that winter and she was eager to repay the debt at the first opportunity – anyone in the green and grey uniform would do.

In fact the farmer was overeager to please. Her first intention was to turf her entire family out of their beds to give each of her three guests a room to herself. Chip felt it was too much too ask from the geriatric grandmothers and four children – one of them barely old enough to walk. After further debate a straw-stuffed pallet was made up for Sanchez by the hearth. In the cold weather it was an arrangement she had very happy with and, despite her higher rank, it was clearly felt to be quite adequate for a mere member of the militia. However the farmer and her partner could not be dissuaded from giving up their own bed for the two rangers.

They took a meal at the long table with the farmer’s family and field-hands. The food was hot, plentiful and, for the tail-end of winter, reasonably varied. Afterwards Chip entertained the family with ridiculously exaggerated stories of her exploits. The children listened in open mouthed awe, while the adults enjoyed the joke. Firelight from the hearth glowed over the comfortable farmhouse kitchen, catching its solid wooden furniture and eclectic assortment of farm implements and family heirlooms. A flagon of cider made the rounds. However the evening was not allowed to drag on. The needs of the farm came first, and everyone headed off to their beds at an early hour. The farmer escorted Chip and Katryn up the twisting staircase at the back of the kitchen. The room in the eaves of the house was cosy, with its scrubbed floorboards and bed piled high with blankets and quilt. Their host hung the lantern from a hook on the ceiling and bid them both good-night.

Once they were alone Chip stood awkwardly in the centre of the room and looked around. There was only the one bed and nowhere else to sleep. It was too cold for the floor to be in the least bit appealing. She looked back to Katryn. Since escaping from the cellar they’d had no chance to talk in private. A couple of times it had seemed that Katryn was deliberately avoiding her. The two nights spent in Eastford had been sandwiched between meetings. On both nights Chip had returned to the Three Barrels late and alone. On both nights she had stopped outside the door to Katryn’s room, but had lacked the courage to knock. Now there was no avoiding the issue.

Across the room Katryn was sitting on the side of the bed, untying her bootlaces. Chip’s heart was pounding as she remembered holding Katryn’s hand in the cellar and Katryn kissing her fingers – but how much had been meant by it? It could hardly be counted as normal circumstances. Had Katryn merely been distracting herself from what had seemed unavoidable death? Following their return from the mill Katryn had neither said nor done anything to imply she wanted to be reminded of the incident.

Katryn was keeping her head down, concentrating on her boots. Chip wished she would stop and look up. She wanted to see Katryn’s face, to judge the expression there for a hint of what Katryn was feeling. Was she was feeling anything at all except for tiredness? Or were the bootlaces a deliberate ploy? A way of avoiding eye contact? A signal for Chip to keep her distance?

Chip cleared her throat. "Um… if you want I’ll sleep on the floor."

"Why?" Still Katryn did not look up.

"Because… in the cellar… I said I liked you a lot, and I meant it. And if I’m sharing a bed with you I’m going to find it very hard to get to sleep."

Katryn froze. Chip waited in agony for the curt rejection or embarrassed evasion. Long seconds passed, then Katryn slipped off her boots and stood up. Her face held a bemused smile. She walked over until she was directly in front of Chip, then reached out and took hold of both sides of Chip’s open jacket. "What on earth makes you think I’m going to want you to sleep?"

Chip found she was staring deep into Katryn’s eyes. The effect was paralysing, heart-stopping, soul-rending. Chip could feel her legs shaking. Her stomach was bouncing around like a spring lamb. Her arms, her face, her voice would not obey her. She knew she was frozen in the image of a clumsy, brainless oaf – gawking like an adolescent on her first date, yet amazingly Katryn seemed not to notice. Letting go of the jacket she slipped her arms around Chip’s back.

Chip’s own arms moved with the grace of a string puppet to clasp Katryn. She had the strange impression that the woman she was holding was trembling as much as herself. She twisted her neck back to look at Katryn’s face, and saw the eyelids were closed, and the lips half-open. Chip shut her eyes and met Katryn’s mouth with her own.

The effect of the kiss ripped through Chip. In an instant her body turned from wood to rubber. Then a crashing wave of pure happiness washed away the panic. Katryn’s tongue softly caressed hers, exploring in the gentlest of invasions, an invitation to reciprocate. Katryn’s arms held her tightly, pressing their bodies together. The sensation engulfed Chip, redefining reality. The world was no longer the way she’d come to expect, but Chip knew she could live with it.

Eventually Chip pulled away. Katryn stood unmoving, breathing in gasps with her eyes closed, as if she were the one at risk of losing all self control. Chip lowered her head, nuzzling at the smooth skin of Katryn’s throat, but the shaking in her legs returned. She had to lie down while she could still move. Chip stared at the bed. It almost certainly wasn’t quite what the farmer had envisioned in loaning it, but there was no way Chip could stop herself making love to Katryn that night.

She looked back. Katryn’s breath was faintly visible in the cold air. Chip manage to summon her voice enough to say, "I’d like to take my time and undress you very, very slowly. But this isn’t the weather for it."

"True." It looked as if it also took Katryn a lot of effort to say the one word.

Chip let her arms fall and stepped away. Her hands moved to the fastenings on her own clothes, fumbling awkwardly as she loosened them, but her eyes never left Katryn until they were both naked and under the heavy blankets.

Chip pressed her body against Katryn’s, entwining their legs. She ran her hand up Katryn’s side, feeling the curve of her hip, the furrows of her ribs, the texture of her skin. She cupped a breast, while rubbing circles around the nipple with her thumb.

Katryn gasped. Her arms tightened around Chip’s shoulders as she rolled onto her back, urging Chip to lie atop of her. Chip did so and the first soft moan of passion escaped Katryn’s lips. Katryn arched her neck, exposing the full length of her throat. Chip burrowed in. With the sensitive skin of her inner lip she explored the jaw-line, tasting salt. Katryn’s hands were running over her back, sweeping down from her shoulders to her hips, pulling their bodies into ever harder contact. Chip’s mouth moved to Katryn’s face, nuzzling her nose, tracing the shape of her eyes and finally joining again with her lips.

This kiss was longer, deeper, and more searching than the first. At last Chip pulled back and looked down at Katryn. Unexpectedly she was swamped with a deep sense of peace, almost of awe. The last knot of nerves melted away. Never had anything felt so right.

Chip had been worried that she would fall on Katryn like a starving dog on a bone – but it wasn’t going to be like that. It wasn’t going to be a series of increasingly frantic manoeuvres, a impatient race with an ever-narrowing focus on the target to be found between Katryn’s legs. Chip wanted to slowly explore every square centimetre of Katryn’s body. No one part was the goal. No part was anything less than utterly precious.

Chip didn’t know how many times she’d had sex, or with how many women – the count had been lost within two years of joining the rangers, but for the first time in her life she was truly going to make love.

**********

Katryn was woken the next morning by a knock at the door. She peered over the top of the covers. The room was in darkness. In response to Chip’s call the farmer’s second youngest daughter came in, carrying a jug of hot water in one hand and a candle in the other. The girl lit the lantern and placed the water by the bowl on the dresser. "Breakfast is downstairs whenever you’re ready." The youngster sounded a little in awe of the two rangers. She ducked her head and scampered out.

Katryn lay in the warmth of the bed, allowing no more than her nose to poke into the cold outside the blankets. Chip’s body was stretched beside her, solid and comforting. Katryn turned her face into Chip’s neck. The unmistakable scent triggered an onslaught of memories – the weight of Chip’s body on top of her; the fullness of Chip’s fingers inside her; holding Chip and watching her face as she climaxed. As the images ran through her mind Katryn felt her breathing again grow ragged.

The previous night had probably not been wise. Katryn remembered untying her bootlaces, wondering how Chip would want to play things, wondering whether they could go back to the ridged self-discipline imposed by ranger regulations. And then Chip had spoken, offering to sleep on the floor and giving the choice to her – as if Katryn could have responded any other way to the desolate earnestness in Chip’s voice. Now there was just the future left to deal with.

Katryn closed her eyes and snuggled a little closer to Chip in the warm nest under the covers. She wanted to treasure the next few seconds before the rest of the world took over her life again. She wanted to memorise each detail to hold in her dreams for the nights ahead.

Chip raised herself on one elbow and traced her fingers lightly over the skin on Katryn’s shoulder. The touch rippled through Katryn’s body, reawakening desire. Katryn opened her eyes. Chip was staring down at her. There was intensity in the gaze, but also nervousness.

Chip wet her lips. "Um… thanks for last night. I… er… really enjoyed it… and maybe sometime again we could…" Chip’s voice died as the nervousness won out.

Katryn shook her head. Was Chip trying to suggest they could treat what had happened as merely a night’s sport? Was she hoping they could pretend to the world it wasn’t serious enough to merit attention? "Are you trying to say we can act like this wasn’t important?"

"Well… I can see it’s important to you as you haven’t been… sleeping with anyone… not since you joined the rangers. And I’m pleased you chose me to…" Chip’s eyes fixed unhappily on the pillow by Katryn’s neck.

Katryn frowned, trying to work out exactly what Chip was trying to say. "Do you think that you’re not important to me?"

"We’re friends."

"We’re more than that."

"Yes, I suppose… at the moment, but I’m not expecting you to want to get serious about it."

"So what do you think last night meant to me?"

"I guess you’ve finally hit the rebound from Allison… and that’s good… you can move on. I’m not expecting that you’re going to want to stick with me, I mean… I think I love you but I don’t expect… I know you’re not going to want... and there’s lots of other women… and…"

Katryn reached out, laying her hand on the side of Chip’s face, stopping her broken sentences. "Chip, I love you with all my heart, and with all my soul, and I know, for the rest of my life, I don’t want anyone else but you."

To Katryn’s astonishment Chip burst into tears.

**********

Lieutenant Sanchez did most of the talking. Dolokov listened in silence, but even the dour captain could not prevent her expression revealing her shock. Once everything had been said she paced across to the window and stood staring out, though by now night had fallen and there was nothing to see except her own reflection in the glass. Eventually she turned back to the three women in the room.

"Bergstrom was a good lieutenant, or at least she…" Dolokov cut off her words and drew a sharp breath. "I suppose we should call Sergeant Sivarajah in here and confirm your guesswork. It’s too late to hold a briefing now, but I would like to make a full announcement at the dawn parade tomorrow."

Chip was the one standing closest to the door. She stuck her head out. As she expected both members of the quartermaster’s staff had found reasons to be in the outer office – not that they could have heard anything through the heavy door. "Captain Dolokov would like to speak with Sergeant Sivarajah. Do you know where she might be?"

The two women exchanged glances before one hurried off. Chip closed the door and waited with the rest for Jan’s arrival. It didn’t take long. Once again Sanchez went through the explanation of Ellis’s death. At the end Jan frowned. "No ma’am. I’m sorry, but it wasn’t like that. We both went to B patrol bunk-house together. I was the one who discovered that Private Nagata’s trail-knife was missing."

"Could Ellis have made the swap while you weren’t looking?" Chip asked.

"Street conjurers earn their living from people who don’t realise they’re being distracted." Dolokov added her comments.

Jan hesitated. "Not from the way I remember it, although your memory can play tricks on you." Despite her words Jan did not look convinced.

"But if Bergstrom confessed then she must have done it somehow." Dolokov said decisively. She turned formally to Sanchez. "Thank you for coming to tell me this. I’ll let you go now. I’m afraid we don’t have any spare accommodation at the barracks, but you will be able to get rooms at the Golden Goose. Could you arrange to be back here half an hour before the dawn parade tomorrow, in case any other questions occur to me tonight?"

"Of course, ma’am." Sanchez lead the others out of the room. The curious looks from the quartermaster’s staff followed them out into the parade ground.

"You’re heading straight to the Golden Goose?" Jan asked.

"There’s nowhere else we need to go." Chip confirmed.

"Do you mind if I tag along? I want to try and get things straight in my mind."

"Sure. I think I’m feeling a bit the same."

**********

The four women sat around the table at the rear of the inn’s tap-room. Virtually identical frowns creased their foreheads as Jan again went over her account. "I entered the bunk-house first and held the door for Bergstrom. She told me to check the lockers, since I knew which was whose. She stood behind me as I went down the row. When we got to Katryn’s her knife-belt was hanging up but the sheath was empty. I was the one who took it out. I… I really don’t see how Bergstrom could have touched it first. Are you sure she admitted murdering Ellis?"

Chip and Katryn exchanged a pained grimace.

"Well… I don’t know if she did in so many words..." Katryn began.

Chip shook her head. "She must have. There is no-one else. Adebeyo’s testimony puts Takeda in the clear. She claims she stood at the window and watched Takeda walk across the parade ground when she left after showing the statements to Bergstrom. Takeda couldn’t have slipped off to the stores first."

"Unless Adebeyo is lying to protect Takeda." Sanchez suggested.

"I doubt it." Jan said. "I think Adebeyo really did like Ellis, and I can’t see what reason would unite her and Takeda."

"You’re certain nobody left the White Swan during the course of the evening?"

Jan stared at the ceiling as she called on her memory. "It was crowded that night, people were moving around. Someone might easily have slipped out for maybe ten minutes or so."

"It’s returning the belt to the bunk-house that’s the problem." Chip said. "Whoever it was couldn’t have walked around the front of the barracks without being seen by the sentries at the gate, and the back was flooded… I know, a boat!" she exclaimed in excitement, and then her shoulders sagged. "No. She still would have to climb over the glass on the wall. It had to be someone who was inside the barracks." Chip slumped despondently in her chair.

"Bergstrom, Takeda or Adebeyo." Sanchez summed it up. "I think you have to go with Bergstrom. She certainly had the best motive."

Jan disagreed. "Adebeyo is the one Ellis trusted. I’d be surprised if she voluntarily handed her trail-knife over to either of the other two – certainly not Bergstrom. They hated each other."

"Not surprising with Bergstrom‘s role in the massacre."

Jan shook her head. "And that’s another thing. Are you also sure Bergstrom said Ellis knew she was the one who tipped off the Butcher? Because a lot of Ellis’s friends died in the fight, and I can’t believe Ellis wouldn’t have turned her in."

Chip turned to Katryn, but this time Katryn’s eyes were fixed on the distance and she had paid no attention to Jan’s words. "Katryn? Have you thought of something?"

"I don’t know. It’s…" Katryn’s frown deepened. "It’s just occurred to me the murderer was taking a chance on Ellis having her trail-knife with her. Since we weren’t allowed to wear them outside the barracks most of us had taken to leaving them in our lockers when we didn’t need them. And strangling her as a back-up plan wouldn’t have been anything like as effective in framing me."

"She probably made a point of asking Ellis to take it with her." Chip replied.

"But why?" Katryn said. "I mean, yes, if it was one of the patrol who were in the White Swan – they had to leave their knives behind when they went out. But what reason would Bergstrom, Takeda or Adebeyo give for not taken their own knife along?"

"Was Ellis wearing her knife when she spoke to you in the stables?" Jan asked.

Katryn shook her head. "I can’t remember."

"Then perhaps Ellis wasn’t the one to take her knife into the stores. Maybe the murderer took it earlier in the evening and put it there ready to use as the final insult – killing Ellis with her own knife."

Sanchez shook her head. "No. There was the confrontation with the sentries on the gate when Ellis tried to take it off-site. And that happened after everyone’s position is accounted for."

Chip jolted as if she had been slapped around the face.

"What is it?" Katryn asked.

"I’ve just..." Chip broke off and held out her hand to fend of the questioning looks. "Give me a few seconds." Her face scrunched in thought. The others watched impatiently, but at last Chip’s frown disappeared. Her hand dropped. "I’ve worked it out." Chip’s voice was almost too soft to hear. "We’ve been looking at the wrong trail-knife."

continued in chapter 22

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