The Wrong Trail Knife

by Jane Fletcher

jane.fletcher@virgin.net

Disclaimers: Please see chapter one

PART THREE : THE KILLER OF MELANTHE ELLIS

Chapter sixteen — Trial by gossip

Katryn finished speaking and sat in silence, cursing herself for past cowardice. Several times while in Landfall she had been tempted to tell Chip everything, but had held back. Like a pathetic dreamer, she had allowed herself to hope that with enough time her new comrades might get to know her, and trust her, and maybe give her the benefit of the doubt when the inevitable rumours reached them. Now the whole story had been dragged from her, which was the worst possible way for it to come out and, even as she was speaking, Katryn could hear how weak and implausible it sounded. There was not a scrap of evidence to support her version of the tale.

Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, her stomach felt sick. For the last part of her account she’d been unable to meet Chip’s eyes, frightened of what she’d see there — at best it would be scepticism. Her gaze could climb no higher than Chip’s ankles. Tears felt dangerously close. A string of useless sentences starting ‘if only’ jangled in her head. If only she had been posted to the 23rd to start with. If only she had been somewhere else when Ellis was murdered. If only Chip would believe her. The last wish cut deepest of all. Katryn knew how much she liked Chip as a comrade, and respected her as an officer, and how much she wanted her as a friend. The most painful part would be losing Chip’s good opinion. Katryn steeled herself for the response.

"Callous bitch!" The words exploded from Chip’s mouth. Katryn felt herself flinch. There was a second of silence then Chip went on furiously. "Did Dolokov want you to get murdered as well? Did she think that was going to help the squadron’s morale? She didn’t just drop you in the shit, she tied lead weights around your neck first. How can anyone who calls herself a captain…" Chip was too impassioned to continue.

Katryn’s head jerked up of its own accord, her mind dazed by the sudden comprehension she was not the target of the outburst. For once Chip’s face did not hold any trace of a smile, nothing but disgust and anger. Their eyes met and held.

Chip was the one who broke contact, rubbing a hand over her face. "What was Dolokov playing at?"

Katryn struggled to find her voice. "It’s just guessing but... I think she was.... riding the odds."

"Easy to play long odds when it’s someone else’s life at stake."

"Well... she knew it wasn’t likely I’d be killed. There wasn’t anyone who cared about Ellis as a person, it was just the principle of one ranger murdering another that outraged some women."

"But didn’t she make any statement about the switched knives? She acted as if she wanted to give the impression she thought you were guilty."

"I think she’d convinced herself that I was."

Chip sank back. "That’s no better. She thought you murdered one of her sergeants and she was happy to let you get away with it?"

Katryn’s mouth twisted in a lopsided frown. "I shouldn’t speak for her, but Dolokov tends not to worry about the rules as long as things sort out the way she wants. She worked out there wasn’t the evidence to get a conviction at a court martial, so she settled for the unofficial justice of handing me over to the rest of the squadron. I got a beating, and then passed on to the next squadron." Katryn bit her lip. "And there’ll be some rangers in the 23rd who’ll want to do the same… I can’t prove I didn’t murder Ellis."

"If we were all treated as guilty of everything we couldn’t prove we hadn’t done there’d be no-one left outside the lock-up to turn the key." Chip tilted her head and looked out through the small window of her room. Full dark had long since fallen; it was too late to take any action that night. "In the morning I’ll go and talk to Captain LeCoup, and you’d better come with me."

"Er… yes." Katryn was less than enthusiastic.

"She needs to know all of this." Chip pointed out.

"Oh… yes. It’s just that she reminds me a bit of Ellis." Katryn shrugged. "Square, short-tempered, shouts, and doesn’t like me."

Chip gave a bark of laughter. "That’s our captain. But she isn’t anything like Ellis."

"I know, but…"

Chip cut her off. "For starters, she’s fair. There’s no way she’ll stand back and have a member of her squadron convicted in a trial by gossip. She’s got a temper like a snow-lion with an arse-ache, but she doesn’t play games. You can rely on her."

Katryn nodded, but before she could speak there was the sound of the door opening in the adjoining room, and voices. The rest of the patrol had returned from the tavern. Chip brushed her palms over her cropped hair. "I guess it’s time to sleep."

"Yes ma’am."

Katryn stood and headed to the door. As she reached for the handle Chip said, "Don’t worry. The murder isn’t general knowledge, and I can guarantee it won’t get out until after LeCoup has decided what to do. My guess is she’ll send to Sanchez and Kalispera for reports. Then she can squash the rumours from the 12th with real facts."

"But you don’t need the reports. You believe me already?" Katryn could not help herself asking.

"I know you didn’t kill Sergeant Ellis." Chip’s voice was steady and utterly sincere.

Their eyes met again and Katryn felt a shock-wave ripple through her, a kick in her stomach that shot down her thighs and tingled at the back of her knees. "Thank you, ma’am." she mumbled and fled.

The other six members of the patrol were in the process of getting ready for bed. They threw a few joking taunts in her direction, but no more than the friendly banter of the barracks. Soon the lamps were out and Katryn was lying in her bunk, staring up into the darkness. Her thoughts were bouncing around far too chaotically for sleep.

Astonishment was her overriding emotion. The most she had dared hope for was to be listened to critically. Being transferred stood as evidence against her. It was only reasonable that people would assume her version of events was full of evasion, if not out-and-out lies. Even if Chip was the only person to offer unqualified trust, it was one supporter more than she had ever expected to find — although, of course, Chip was not an unbiased observer.

It was something Katryn had been aware of for a while. She’d had enough experience to know the signs. Ever since she’d hit puberty there had been a unending stream of women drawn by her good looks. She’d found it invariably tedious, often embarrassing, and occasionally distasteful. There had been no interest in her as a person, no real wish to understand her. The hopeful admirers had hung on her every word without paying attention to any of them. They had then gone away and invented a fantasy personality for her, to go with their other fantasies. She might as well have been a pretty faced puppet.

But it was grossly unfair to put Chip in with that group. It was possible to have an entertaining conversation with her, and know Chip was hearing what was said — no more and no less. There had been no crude innuendoes, no pestering, no sense of being a game-prize. And she knew, if ever anything was said, Chip would take a ‘no’ as an answer without childishly sulking or making a scene; without harming their friendship — if the answer was to be no.

As the thought drifted through her head Katryn again felt her insides kick; a sensation similar to the jolt that had hit her in Chip’s room, but more focused. And this time there was no doubting the cause, or meaning, of her racing pulse and somersaulting stomach.

She liked Chip a lot. She’d known that ever since she’d got over the initial panic of meeting another new sergeant. Now Katryn realised she’d built walls in her mind, defences against the rejection she’d been sure would come. But the barricades hadn’t been needed, Chip had not turned against her. The walls had crashed down, and Katryn found herself flooded by an emotion she hadn’t known was there. Her whole body shook to the rhythm of her heartbeat, while a very familiar ache started to grow.

It was so easy to close her eyes and recall Chip’s face, complete with a smile like summer sunshine. Katryn felt herself falling even deeper as she toyed with the image. In her mind she added the other details; the way Chip moved, her eyes, her voice, the shape of Chip’s hands... and then the thought of what those hands would feel like touching her own body. The breath caught in Katryn’s throat as she considered leaving her bunk and slipping into Chip’s room. She was sure Chip would very happy to see her... or would she?

Another memory surfaced, one from the evening following Clarinda Wright’s death. On the way back from the tavern, she had tried to kiss Chip. With hindsight she had known her own mind better when drunk than she had sober. The memory had been hanging about on the edge of her thoughts, ignored in confusion. The defensive barriers in her mind would not let her deal with it. Now she could, and what confronted her was the knowledge that Chip, gently but with unequivocal firmness, had rejected the advance.

Katryn’s eyes flew open. Had she been misreading Chip’s friendliness, projecting her own repressed emotions onto their target? You can’t expect the whole world to fancy you, she mocked herself angrily. Or perhaps there was another explanation. Chip had been a ranger long enough to know all the rules, including the unwritten ones. Katryn thought of the ill-concealed scorn as Pat had slunk out of Ellis’s room. Furthermore, they were officer and subordinate. Absolutely the very last thing Katryn wanted was to be transferred to yet another squadron — not when it seemed that things might work out alright in the 23rd. If Chip was to be her champion it would harm both their reputations if it was perceived to be the result of bedroom bargaining.

Whatever the reason, Chip’s position was clear. The bitter irony struck her. She remembered thinking that Chip would be adult enough to take ‘no’ as an answer. Katryn’s face twisted in a pained grimace. It was her own maturity that was to be tested.

**********

It was a miserable wet afternoon in early December. Chip and Kim sat in one of the taverns in the town below Fort Krowe. Belts of sleet splattered against the green glass of the windows. Heavy clouds reduced the light outside to premature dusk and the thatched roof creaked in gusts of cold wind. However the two sergeants were quiet content. They had comfortable chairs by the log fire and were washing down the end of a large meal with tankards of the best beer the town could offer.

The months leading up to mid-winter’s day were traditionally the slack time for rangers. With the worsening weather there were few traders on the road, and therefore few highway robberies. The mountain cats would be excavating their dens for hibernation and, although prides of snow-lions would be following the cold weather south, there was still plenty of their natural prey about, and the fenbucks and spadehorns would always top a snow-lion’s menu. It was rare for a pride to venture onto the domesticated Homelands before February.

November and December were when leave was granted, half the squadron at a time. By the regulations a ranger was allocated to the division closest to her home town, so the month would be sufficient to visit relatives It also meant she would be close at hand for emergency recall. It said much of the rangers’ lifestyle that many did not bother, and spent the time with their comrades, propping up a bar. Women gave up their families to join the rangers — those whose families had not first given up on them. The bonds of life and death that bound a squadron were far stronger than blood.

Kim sighed and pushed her empty plate away. For a while she watched the amber firelight reflected in the side of her tankard. "I wonder where we’ll be dumped next?"

"Somewhere cold surrounded by lots of things with big teeth." Chip answered.

"You’re just guessing." Kim said, mock-seriously. She then scrutinised at her friend more earnestly, there had been a faint undertone to Chip’s voice. "Or are you?"

"Pardon?" Chip’s best attempt to look innocent didn’t fool Kim at all.

"Come on, don’t do the wide-eyed bit, it doesn’t suit you. What do you know?"

"I don’t strictly know anything, but I have this feeling about the east."

Kim lent forwards and dropped her voice. "East?"

Chip flexed her fingers like a card-sharp. "Maybe."

"East." Kim repeated. "And from that look on your face, it’s not just gossip. Have you been pulling strings?"

"What’s the point of doing favours if you don’t call them in from time to time?" Chip said, grinning. "Winter struck early this year. The border divisions will all have put in requests for extra hands. If they decide to send one of our squadrons out to Eastern, I’ve merely suggested to an acquaintance on staff to consider offering the 23rd."

"But why ea…" Kim stopped and became far more serious. "Katryn?"

Chip’s shrug said yes.

"You’re not planning some sort of confrontation with the 12th, are you?"

"Of course not… well, not until I’ve worked out which one of them killed the sergeant."

"How?"

"I’m not sure yet. I’m going to need to visit Roadsend, talk to people there. But, hopefully, if we do get lent to Eastern we’ll be running up and down the border, and I’ll get the chance to visit the place."

"And you’re sure that’s wise? You don’t want to be reminded of phrases about leaving well alone?"

Chip was about to reply, but at that moment four figures, all heavily muffled with scarves and ranger’s cloaks flitted passed the window, moving too quickly for identification,. A second later the tavern door was briefly shoved open, allowing a cold draft to swirl down the room. Kim was sitting with her back to the door, however she didn’t need to turn her head to know that one of the new arrivals was Katryn — the look in Chip’s eyes was unmistakable.

"It must be nice to be on sergeant’s pay and be able to afford to eat away from the mess." Lee Horte’s tone was conversationally deadpan as she walked past the table, but the corners of her lips twitched up. The others merely smiled a greeting and settled around the bar. Kim was not surprised when Chip caught Katryn’s eye and beckoned her over.

Once Katryn was seated with her drink Chip said, "I was talking to Captain LeCoup this morning…"

Kim interrupted on Katryn’s behalf. "Oh no! You’re not going to discuss work now?"

"Well... only semiofficially." Chip turned back to Katryn. "I said we should get you certified as a marksman. And LeCoup agreed. Your archery is easily up to it. That way you’ll only need to do one year as a private before you’re eligible for promotion to leading ranger, which will be in…?" She broke off with a query on her face.

"Start of February." Katryn provided the information, though she did not look too confident. She frowned and said. "It seems a bit like cheating."

"Hardly."

"Won’t people who did two years as private mind?"

"No-one complained when Carma took certification as a healer." Chip said, referring to the ranger in D patrol who possessed enough of the healer-sense to function as an effective medic — a real asset to the squadron. "As a leading ranger you wouldn’t be so conspicuous."

"Seeing how as I’m so old and haggard?" Katryn suggested lightly.

Chip pursed her lips. "Alternately you could hang a sign around your neck telling people you’re younger than you look, but you’ve had a hard life."

The two of them continued talking, soon drifting to other subjects. Kim shifted back in her seat and watched them thoughtfully, playing little part in the conversation. However she soon found it necessary rest her chin on her hand, with her fingers over her lips to hide her grin. She wondered if the message in their animated faces and body language was as blatantly obvious to everyone else in the tavern as it was to herself. Chip’s response she had come to expect, however for the first time Kim realised that Katryn was also giving out signals — which Chip was utterly failing to pick up on. The next few months promised to be quiet amusing.

**********

By mid-winter’s day the entire squadron was back together. Captain LeCoup summoned a general briefing in the mess — the only room big enough to hold everyone. Once all thirty-four women had taken their places the captain began. "We’ve been given our orders. The 23rd has been seconded to Eastern division for three months. It’s a bit unusual but, as you know, winter came on early this year, and by February they expect to be up to their necks in snow-lions."

LeCoup’s eyes scanned over her audience before continuing. "By my reckoning it’s eleven years since we last did a winter stint with Eastern, and there aren’t too many of you familiar with the set-up there. So a quick summary..." She folded her arms in a declamatory pose. "There are seven squadrons in the division, and seven main barracks. This doesn’t include the divisional HQ at Eastford where there’s just a staff admin building. Their summer deployment goes from May to October, with one squadron based in each barrack-town. In winter the southern half of the region is quietish, while the northern section is a bit livelier. So the four southern barracks go on half-muster, which for those of you who can’t do the maths means they have two squadrons free. One they send north to provide backup for dealing with the snow-lions, the other squadron is held in Eastford and is used as reserves. This year, since they’re expecting trouble with snow-lions, they want to put both spare squadrons in the north. They want us to do the general reserve bit based in Eastford. Does everybody follow that?"

If anyone didn’t they weren’t admitting it and the briefing went on, covering some administrative matters in more detail. Eventually LeCoup wound up, "They want us in Eastford for the 15th of January. We ride out tomorrow, so you’ve got one night to say goodbye to anyone in Fort Krowe who’ll miss you. Okay, meeting over." As women started to shuffle towards the door, LeCoup raised her voice again. "And Sergeant Coppelli, I’d like a word with you in my office."

As she squeezed out the door Chip caught Kim’s eye and exchanged a worried grimace, there was something ominous in LeCoup’s tone, but there was no chance to speak. Chip headed straight to the captain’s office with a nasty cold knot forming in her guts. LeCoup arrived a few seconds later and ushered her in.

Chip came smartly to attention in the middle of the room, it seemed a sensible thing to do. LeCoup slowly paced the length of the floor then fixed a long critical stare on her. At last she spoke. "Were you surprised to learn just now that we were seconded to Eastern Division?"

Chip hesitated, but lying was very unwise. "No, ma’am."

"Why not?"

"I, er… I had discussed the possibility with a member of divisional staff, ma’am."

"Discussed the possibility? That’s a frigging euphemism. What you mean is you talked her into fixing it for you." LeCoup’s voice had acquired a snarl. She walked closer until she was glaring directly into Chip’s eyes. "Okay Sergeant — why?"

Chip managed to keep control of her voice. "I was hoping for a chance to visit Roadsend, ma’am. I wanted to see if I could learn more about the murder of Private Nagata’s ex-sergeant."

"That’s not your job."

"No ma’am, but I wanted to clear her name."

"I’ve already dealt with that. The reports I received showed her record in the militia was exemplary, and there’s no evidence to support claims she was the one who murdered her ex-sergeant."

"Yes ma’am, the reports you got were very helpful."

"Helpful!"

Chip judged she little to lose by continuing. "As long as the murder is unsolved there are always going to be doubts... in Private Nagata’s mind if nowhere else. Until she knows she has been proved innocent she’s always going to be wondering just how much her comrades trust her."

"So you decided to bugger around with the squadron’s posting?" LeCoup increased the intensity of her verbal offensive. Chip swallowed, hoping it was a rhetorical question. To her relief, after a long pause, LeCoup continued. "The deployment of squadrons is a matter of life or death not a fucking game of tiddlywinks. The 23rd is my squadron, and I am responsible for it. I will not have a shit-arsed sergeant tossing it around the Homelands for her amusement." The volume of LeCoup’s voice rose several levels. "If you want to make arrangements for the squadron you don’t go behind my back. Either you go via me or you keep your fucking hands out of it. You don’t take it on yourself to play games, or Himoti’s statue in the chapel will be wearing your tits for ear-rings. Understood?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Don’t you ever dare do anything like this again."

"No, ma’am."

LeCoup stomped away. "Dismissed."

Chip didn’t start breathing normally until she was outside the building. She sucked in a deep lungful of air and began walking back to her room. Kim intercepted her on the way.

"Trouble?" Kim asked.

Chip scrunched her nose. "A bit. LeCoup had found out I was the one who rigged the posting."

"How?"

"She didn’t say." Chip shrugged. "How does she find out half the things she does?"

"Was she angry?"

"She threatened to remove some of my body parts."

Kim laughed. "With fatal results?"

"No, but I’m still rather fond of them." Chip thought for a moment. "And it’s not as if the statue has pierced ears."

**********

Dusk was less than an hour away as the squadron rode over the brow of the last hill and saw the town ahead. Snow lay thick on the surrounding countryside, the river cut a black line through it. Lanterns were beginning to be lit and their light glinted off the rows of icicles dangling from the lintels of windows. Eastford spanned the two sides of the Little Liffey river. The ford of its name had long since been replaced by a stone arched bridge. Apart from the divisional HQ there was also a temple in Eastford. It was the tallest building by far, its dome raised a dark mass against the sky.

Captain LeCoup lead the way along the main road into town and soon called a halt outside a flat fronted building on the edge of the market square. The green and grey banner of the rangers hung above the only door. LeCoup slipped from her saddle and went inside with Lieutenant Ritche. The other rangers milled around in the deserted square.

"Where’s the barracks?" One voice asked loudly.

Ash overheard. "Didn’t you hear what the captain said in the briefing? There isn’t a permanent squadron based in Eastford, just a few divisional staff, so they don’t have purpose built barracks here."

"We’re not going to be camping out all winter?" It was more protest than question.

Ash merely smiled at the speaker and urged her horse away. The ranger went in a fruitless search for another veteran from the squadron’s last posting to Eastford.

Before long Captain LeCoup reappeared in the doorway. "Okay." Her shout got everyone’s attention. "As you may have heard. The bad news is that they don’t have barracks here in Eastford. They don’t have troops stationed here all year round to make it worthwhile. The good news is that Eastford is on a major trade route so in this season there are lots of inns with lots of vacant rooms. We’re to be billeted in them. I’ve got the allocations here." She waved some papers in the air and beckoned the four sergeants over.

**********

By nightfall C patrol was happily installed in the Three Barrels. The inn staff cleared away the remains of a meal that outdid anything ever served in a mess-hall. The rangers were in high spirits. Some settled down by the fire with a drink while others were preparing to go in search of the other patrols to see how they had fared.

Chip was building her resolve to brave the cold and go in search of Kim when her friend beat her to it and appeared at the doorway of the tap-room, knocking snow from her boots. "Very cosy." She gave her assessment, smiling broadly.

The two sergeants picked a couple of comfy looking chairs in a warm corner. In response to a wave, one of the inn staff indicated that drinks would be with them shortly.

"It isn’t bad, is it?" Chip said, her gesture taking in the whole inn.

"No it’s not." Kim agreed laughing. "The squadrons in Eastern must fight pitched battles over who gets this winter posting."

"What’s your inn like?"

Kim looked around, sizing it up. "A bit bigger, not so homelike. We’ve all got a room to ourself." Her grin got wider. "With a town full of interesting women who haven’t seen a serving ranger for months, and a bed in crawling distance of the bar, I overheard one of my patrol wonder if she’d been killed in action and gone straight to ranger heaven."

"I just hope we get to spend some time here. It would be awfully sad to be sent off tomorrow to the arse-end of nowhere, chasing some farmer’s hallucinations."

"I thought you wanted a trip out to Roadsend." Kim said, feigning surprise.

"Oh, I do," Chip sighed and sunk further into her chair as two tankards arrived. "But there’s no rush. I won’t mind if I have to wait here a few days first."

continued in chapter 17

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