by Jane Fletcher

jane.fletcher@virgin.net

Violence. This is essentially a murder mystery, so it is part of the definition that at least one person will die (in fact there are a few more deaths). On top of this one of the main characters sustains some serious injuries. The violence is fairly graphic, although hopefully not gratuitous. If you find things like this upsetting it might be an idea to pick something else to read. 

Language. The characters say the occasional rude word. I have tried to restrict this to the rare occasions where anything else would sound silly.

Explicit sex. Yes, eventually, and it involves two women. But, since my writing tends to the opposite extreme from the PWP genre, if you're looking for something quick, hot and wild this might not be the story for you.

General. I wrote this as a prequel to my book 'The World Celaeno Chose'. Having invented a world I wanted to play around with it a bit more. It isn't necessary to have read the other story in order to follow this one. ' The World Celaeno Chose' takes place a few years later, so it has no effect on the events in 'The Wrong Trail Knife'. However I have not rehashed the background information from my first book to explain how this world came to be the way it is. It is of no relevance to the plot and would only slow things down (as well as straining my writing ability to feed in chunks of exposition without sounding contrived).

The new recruits to the rangers were gasping as they stumbled up the road at an unsteady trot; many looked as if their legs were turning to rubber. Wisely, Sergeant ‘Chip’ Coppelli stopped to let them pass, rather than relying on rank to grant her right of way. The recruits were clearly in no state to undertake evasive manoeuvres. A grin spread across Chip’s face at the sight of the exhausted women; it wasn’t smug or malicious, a easy-going smile was merely her normal expression. Initial training for the rangers was hell, as she well remembered, but sending out ill-prepared recruits would be verging on murder.

The trainees tottered to a halt in an open space nearby. Chip watched them form up in a line, swaying noticeably. A drill-sergeant strutted forward slowly. The heavy, menacing steps made Chip’s grin grow still broader. She wondered if newly appointed drill-sergeants were given lessons in swaggering, or whether their gait was assessed before they were offered the job. And the voice! There must be a knack to sounding sarcastically ironic at full bellow. Chip could see the recruits flinch. It was a fair bet they were all bitterly cursing themselves for applying to join the rangers. Chip knew she’d done so during her months as a trainee, but not seriously, or for long. And the eight years since she’d become a proper ranger had been the happiest of her life — although it was fair to say the previous nineteen did not offer much in the way of competition.

With her path clear, Chip continued walking across the site, through the collection of barrack-blocks, admin offices, stores, stables and training fields known as Fort Krowe. Her eyes took in the surroundings. The paths between the buildings were worn bare of grass, the ground still damp from the previous day’s rain. From its hillside perch the site commanded a good view of the roofs of the town below and beyond them the lowland pastures and the Landfall road heading south-east. Overhead the sun shone from a cloudless blue sky, but the weight had gone from its heat. The wooded hillsides held the first tinge of red and orange. Autumn was on the way.

It had been a busy summer for the 23^rd squadron, chasing from one side of the Homelands to the other. The missions had been successful, and the only losses from the squadron were two women who had completed their period of enlistment and had decided not to rejoin. The one from Chip’s patrol had gone only two days before and was probably still nursing her hangover. Chip was not sure if the woman was wise (in leaving rather than celebrating). While out on assignment you always looked forward to returning to Fort Krowe for the chance to take things easy. It was only when you got back you remembered how dull it was. Leaving the rangers might well be the same.

The barracks allocated to the 23^rd were on a gentle slope to one side, slightly detached from the rest of the site. Chip looked at the wooden buildings fondly. Fort Krowe felt like home, far more so than her parent’s house had ever done. She was just approaching C patrol bunk-house when a voice called out, "Sergeant Coppelli."

Chip stopped and looked around. "What is it?"

The ranger who had hailed her jogged closer. "Ma’am, Captain LeCoup wants to see you in the briefing room. Your new recruit is here."

"Already? That’s great." Chip switched direction.

The briefing room was in the block housing the officer’s quarters. In a normal barracks it would have fulfilled a range of administrative functions, requiring desks, bookshelves and cabinets, but at Fort Krowe there were divisional offices to take care of such things. The only furniture in the room was a large central table and benches pushed back around the walls.

When Chip entered the room Captain LeCoup was half-sitting on the table, with one foot dangling free. LeCoup was short and square, with a face that epitomised determination. In Chip’s opinion it would be a brave brick wall that dared stand in her way. LeCoup was looking displeased, which was not such an rare expression for her, although her fairness and competence meant it didn’t stop her being generally approved of by her troops. The current focus of her displeasure was the woman standing to attention in front of her.

LeCoup’s eyes shifted as the door closed. "Sergeant Coppelli, the new member of your patrol is here, Private Katryn Nagata." Her voice was clipped.

Chip covered her surprise. Everyone managed to annoy LeCoup at some time, however doing it within minutes of arriving in the squadron was both unusual and unwise. Chip took a few steps forward, until she was standing beside the newcomer, and then turned to look at her.

She was almost exactly the same height as Chip, her body lightly built, but too well balanced to appear weak. Her head was small and neat, with a finely cut profile. The first thought to strike Chip was that Katryn Nagata was incredibly good-looking. The second that she was older than expected, in her mid-twenties, which was immediately followed by a mental double-take — LeCoup had given her rank as private, not leading ranger. A quick glance at Katryn’s shoulder badge confirmed it. The shield was blank.

Promotion to leading ranger was a formality, granted when a woman had completed two years in the rangers. It was marked by a single bar on her badge. It was possible for an officer to recommend the promotion be delayed, but it was exceptional, and certainly for no more than a year. The only time you could expect to find someone of the newcomer’s age with an empty badge was if she’d been busted to private for a disciplinary offence.

LeCoup’s next words supported this inference. "Private Nagata has been transferred to us from the 12^th."

Chip mentally completed the story. The offence had not only been serious enough to merit demotion, but it had made Katryn so unpopular with the other members of her squadron it had been necessary to move her. Gross cowardice would have done it, or stealing from her comrades, and either would probably have earned her a flogging as well. Whatever the crime, she was unlikely to be an asset to the 23^rd. Chip could understand LeCoup’s annoyance.

Chip studied Katryn’s face in profile. The new arrival’s gaze was fixed on the wall, her jaw clamped shut. She was trying to look impassive, but her the line of her mouth gave her away. She was miserably nervous, and she was very beautiful. Chip knocked the thought away and turned back to LeCoup.

The captain was glaring at Katryn, but then she sucked in a deep breath. "Okay Private. You’re not the person I’d have chosen but I suppose someone had to have you. I’ll assume all appropriate action had been taken, and we can draw a line under the past. You’re in the 23^rd squadron now, and this is day one. Behave yourself and things will be fine. Step out of line and you’ll regret it. Understood?"

"Yes ma’am."

"You’ll be in C patrol, under Sergeant Coppelli here. She’ll be watching you very carefully. Make sure she only sees good things." LeCoup paused, glaring. "She’s all yours Sergeant. Dismissed."

Chip lead the way to C patrol bunk-house. The dormitory lay-out was standard. An unlit iron stove was close by the door. A single bed for the corporal and double-bunks for the other six members of the patrol stood in the corners. There was a doorway to the sergeant’s separate room at the end. All remaining wall space was taken up with lockers to hold the ranger’s possessions.

Chip pointed out the vacant upper bunk and spare locker. "They’ll be yours."

"Yes ma’am." Katryn’s voice was taut to breaking.

Chip looked at her. Katryn’s hands were shaking visibly. Her eyes were bleak and despairing. ‘Trapped’ was the word that came to Chip’s mind. A ripple of sympathy flowed though her. Everyone made mistakes. You should only have to pay for them once. In a lighter tone she said. "Don’t be too worried by Captain LeCoup, she doesn’t do the chummy act, but she’s not vindictive, and she means exactly what she says. She’s given you a clean sheet in the squadron, the rest is up to you."

"Yes ma’am, thank-you." Katryn sounded no happier. She looked like a condemned woman on her way to the scaffold.

Chip stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "It’s okay. You’re over the worst bit with LeCoup and me. The rest of the patrol can do reasonable impersonations of human beings — on a good day."

On cue the door opened and Lee came in. Chip accosted her and made the introductions. "This is Private Katryn Nagata who has joined C patrol, and this is Corporal Lee Horte who is going to sort out your horse in the stables, and show you where everything is and trot you around to say hello to everyone, while I go and put my feet up in the approved fashion for sergeants."

Chip shot a warning glance at Lee before heading out through the door. Lee would be a good person to help Katryn settle in. It must be stressful to be dumped in a group of strangers who were going to distrust you. Lee was the calmest person Chip had ever met. In five years in the rangers, fighting their way out of countless dangerous situations, Chip had never heard Lee lose her composure enough to mutter an oath stronger than ‘Oh dear’. Lee was far more diplomatic than the average ranger and could be counted on to not overplay a drama. Lee would also protect Katryn from too much tactless curiosity by the other patrol members.

Standing outside the bunk-house Chip paused and thought. It was not just her and the captain who would add things together and draw conclusions. For the sake of unity in the patrol it would be nice to have the facts — no mater what, they would be better than rumour. While Lee sorted out the practical details Chip decided to go back to talk to Captain LeCoup, and see if she could find out exactly what Katryn Nagata had done.

**********

General mail arrived at Fort Krowe once a week. Rather than have the staff pestered by every woman on site, it was the responsibility of sergeants to collect and distribute mail to their patrols. It was Chip’s next task after leaving Captain LeCoup.

"You’re early, you’ll have to hang on." the clerk shouted as Chip entered the office.

"You mean you’re not ready yet?" Chip tone was teasing.

"That was the general implication."

"You’ll have to start taking shorter lunch breaks."

"I haven’t had a lunch break today."

"You mean your morning tea break overran so much there wasn’t time to fit one in?"

In reply the clerk merely glared at her tormentor with animosity which was utterly unconvincing. Chip’s good-nature made her universally popular. The mock arguments were part of a ritual game between divisional staff and those on active service in the squadrons.

Most of the office was taken up with desks and cabinets, but in a corner were a few stools. Chip selected one and sat down. After a few minutes the door opened again and Sergeant Aisha O’Neil of A patrol entered, with Kimberley Ramon close behind. They were, respectively the oldest and youngest sergeants in the 23^rd. Ash O’Neil had been a sergeant when Chip joined the squadron. It was known she had repeatedly turned down promotion to lieutenant, claiming she preferred to stick with what she was good at. And there was no-one who’d deny that Ash was an exceptionally good sergeant.

Kim Ramon was also well-respected. Reaching the rank of sergeant at twenty-four was fast work, and there was little doubt she would go a lot further. She’d been tipped as captain since her first month in the rangers. Chip felt no resentment at knowing she would be overtaken on the promotion ladder, especially since Kim was her best friend.

"You can tell who hasn’t got enough work to do." Kim teased, seeing Chip already there waiting.

"I’m merely maintaining good morale by making sure my patrol get their mail promptly." Chip answered in kind, and then raised her voice. "Or at least they would if the staff didn’t fart about so much."

"Sod off." The answer was shouted back.

"What has happened to witty repartee?" Chip shook her head sadly.

"You weren’t expecting wit from divisional staff, were you?" Kim spoke in mock innocence.

The three sergeants grinned at the harassed clerk, and then settled down to wait. Ash rested her back against the wall and said, "I hear we’ve got a new girl in the squadron. I take it she’s in your patrol."

"Yes, turned up about an hour ago." Chip confirmed.

"You frowned when you said that." Kim made the observation.

"Mmmm." Chip hesitated. Not because she had doubts about the discretion of her fellow sergeants — they would soon learn everything via the grapevine anyway, but because she herself was uncertain of what to make of the information she had to give.

"There’s a problem with her?" Kim prompted.

"Well… she’s not a new recruit, she’s a transfer." Chip began. "Her name’s Katryn Nagata. She must be twenty-five or so, and she’s got the rank of private."

There was a few seconds of silence while the other two added things up. "What did she do?" Ash asked eventually.

"We don’t know, which is really winding up LeCoup, I’ve come here straight from talking to her. Apparently the transfer papers have got no information on them at all."

"Isn’t there a record of the court martial?"

"There must be — somewhere, but it hasn’t got here yet. She’s been transferred from the 12^th which is in Western division… I think."

Ash shook her head. "Eastern." she corrected.

"Whatever." Chip shrugged. "The legal documents are probably still doing the rounds in Landfall."

"It’s not a good situation." Kim said, shaking her head.

"No, not really. I’ve been trying to think of all the things you can get busted for." Chip pursed her lips. "I suppose blasphemy wouldn’t bother me too much."

"It’s not being busted to private that’s worrying." Ash gave her opinion. "It’s having to be transferred. Upsetting the authorities can be a matter of bad luck. Upsetting your comrades points to something nasty."

"How did she seem to you?" Kim asked.

"I didn’t talk to her much."

"First impressions?"

"Well…" Chip caught her lower lip in her teeth, working to hide her grin. "I don’t know how to tell you this Kim, but she may well take your place as pretty-girl of the squadron."

Kim laughed. "She’s welcome to it — the bonus pay for the post is abysmal."

Chip tilted her head sideways. "She may be trouble, but at least she’ll be ornamental."

Ash joined in the joking. "Don’t knock it. When you’ve been a sergeant as long as me you’ll know the value of an ascetically pleasing patrol. Remember, for one reason or another, you have to spend an awful lot of time looking at them."

"Okay the mail is ready." The clerk shouted over, interrupting the discussion.

The three sergeants picked up the appropriate pile of letters and wandered back to the barracks. "So, what are you going to about your new ranger?" Kim asked when they were outside.

"What can I do? She’s been assigned to the 23^rd. Anyway, maybe she’s learnt her lesson. It’s not fair to assume we need to do anything."

"I meant about finding out why she was court martialled. You don’t want to leave it to rumour."

"Oh, that." Chip said cheerily. "I’ve worked out just what to do. I’m going to ask her."

**********

A small town had grown up next to Fort Krowe. Initially it had existed solely to supply the needs of the rangers, but over the years it had acquired a life of it’s own. Unsurprisingly, from the first, the town had attracted bowyers and swordsmiths, and these no longer confined their trade to the military. Blades and bows from Fort Krowe were prized throughout the Homelands. The weekly market in the main square was the centre of this trade.

It was the end of another frenetic day of buying and selling. Crowds were thinning and the stalls were being taken down for the night as the two rangers, clad in uniforms of green and grey, strolled across the cobbles. Anywhere else they’d have attracted attention, if only from wide-eyed children, but no-one here spared them a second glance. After all, this was Fort Krowe, home of the rangers.

Chip and Kim wove their way between the crates and half-dismantled stalls, exchanging light-hearted banter. As they reached the far end Chip tapped Kim’s arm and pointed down a side-street. "Do you mind if we go to the Cat and Fiddle tonight?"

"No." Kim agreed easily and changed direction. "Any particular reason?"

"The rest of my patrol are going there. I’m hoping the new girl will tag along so I’ll get the chance for a little off-duty chat."

"To try and find out why she was court-martailled?" There was a teasing edge to Kim’s voice.

Chip picked up on it. "Of course, why else?"

"Well, you did say she was attractive."

"I said she was prettier than you." Chip caught the sideways look her friend was directing at her and laughed. "Don’t tell me you’re worried."

"At what?"

"That she might take away some of the adoring hordes that chase after you."

This time it was Kim who laughed. "There’s enough women who are mesmerised by a ranger’s uniform to go around."

"And around and around." Chip grinned. "Well, you should know."

Kim made no attempt the deny the gibe. It was true some women were fascinated by rangers, but even without the lure of her uniform Kim would have had no trouble finding lovers. What did draw comment was the unrelenting pace at which Kim worked her way through them, exceptional even among the free-living rangers. Only those who knew Kim well, like Chip, understood the painful memories that drove her.

For Chip herself, the adolescent delight at being able to pick up lovers at will had long gone. The thrill had faded in the knowledge the women were attracted purely by her uniform. Chip had no narcissism concerning her own looks. The face confronting her in the mirror could most flatteringly be described as interesting, or more honestly as misproportioned. What Chip didn’t realise was that only when studying the reflection was her face inanimate, humourless and critical, which made all the difference. Many women had told Chip she had a nice smile; her mistake was in not taking them seriously.

The tap-room of the Cat and Fiddle was busy, even so it was not hard to spot the group of rangers in the corner. As they sauntered over loud voices hailed the two sergeants. Chip and Kim were well-liked and, off-duty, welcome companions. Chip spotted Katryn at the back of the group. The woman was clearly uneasy, although making an effort to fit in. The other members of the patrol were being polite, but they were also unsure of how to react to the new addition to the squadron.

While they were still out of earshot Kim whispered, "I take it that’s her?"

"Yes."

"Not bad." Kim said appraisingly. "But you don’t need me to tell you to be careful."

"I said I thought she was good-looking, I didn’t say I planned on doing anything."

"I heard what you said." Kim’s voice was serious. "I also heard how you said it."

A slightly sharper retort rose to Chip’s lips but she bit it back as she caught her friend’s eyes. There was no doubting the concern there. Friendship was too weak a word for the bond between them. Both had risked their life for the other on countless occasions, and the vigilance didn’t stop when off-duty. Chip rapped her knuckles gently on Kim‘s arm. "Don’t worry. I’m not about to do anything daft."

"Just remember, she’s trouble."

**********

It was late in the evening before Chip got the chance for a private chat. The tavern was slowly clearing. Kim, true to form, was homing in on a soft-faced trader from Landfall. Katryn was sitting at an otherwise empty table in an alcove. Chip took her drink and slid in opposite.

"How are you going?" Chip opened the conversation.

"I’m fine, thank-you ma’am."

"We’re off-duty. You can call me Chip."

"Yes ma…" Katryn swallowed and looked anxiously towards the bar, as if searching for advice. Her eyes dropped to her almost empty tankard. Chip pointed towards it.

"Can I buy you another one?"

"Oh… no… I…" Katryn was floundering for words. "I don’t drink much — but thank you."

Chip studied the downcast face. She’d tried to work out a tactful way to approach the subject, but everything she’d thought of sounded contrived, and it didn’t seem hopeful that Katryn was going to volunteer the information. Blunt honesty was going to have to do.

Chip settled back slightly in her chair, so as not to appear too intimidating, and asked, "Why were you court martailled?"

"Pardon?" Katryn’s head shot up.

Chip did not repeat her words, judging Katryn’s response was not due to mishearing.

Katryn met her gaze for a few tense seconds and then shook her head. "I haven’t been court martailled."

"So why aren’t you a leading ranger?"

"I haven’t been in the rangers long enough to qualify, I only completed initial training in January."

Chip opened her mouth and then shut it again. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. Of course it was possible. Before a woman could apply to the rangers she must complete two years probation in the militia. The full term of enlistment was fourteen years. Those whose application was successful spent the last twelve in the rangers. After that it was possible to reenlist in seven year extension periods; as long as the woman was not too old. Forty-four was the cut-off point for active field duty, sixty for divisional staff, and seventy for command. To enlist in the militia a woman could be aged anywhere between sixteen and thirty, but in practice it was extremely rare for anyone to join after the age of twenty. A fair proportion of the squadron had applied for the militia and then the rangers on the very first day they were eligible. Chip hadn’t been quite so prompt but she’d still entered the rangers before her nineteenth birthday. She had never heard of anyone much older even wanting to transfer to the rangers, let alone being accepted, but it wasn’t prohibited by the rules

"I didn’t…er… I…" Now it was Chip who was lost for words.

"I haven’t been charged with any crime, let alone found guilty." Katryn’s voice was soft, with a bitter undertone.

"I’m sorry. I’m afraid I made assumptions from your age."

Katryn bit her lip then nodded. "That’s alright. I know it’s unusual."

There was still the question of why she’d been transferred, but Chip felt she had blundered into enough awkward mistakes for one evening. She decided to retreat to another subject, and it would be safest to let Katryn chose it. "Right well… um… is there anything I can tell you? About the squadron or whatever?"

"I don’t know much about Central Division, what the postings are like or…" Katryn’s voice trailed away into a shrug.

Chip nodded. It was a safe subject. "Varied, very varied. Northern, Eastern and Western divisions have their section of border to protect. Central has to cover everything else."

"The coast to the south?" Katryn suggested.

"Technically, yes. But, though I’ve heard tales of sea-monsters, they stay in the water and don’t cause us problems."

Katryn’s face fell slightly. "A shame, I’ve always wanted to see the ocean."

"Oh, you’ll get to see it all right — and everywhere else in the Homelands as well. Whenever a local militia has a problem too big to handle they call on Central Division. We’re the smallest division, only five squadrons, and we cover the largest territory. On top of that we are sometimes loaned to other divisions as reserves, particularly in winter when snow-lions get troublesome. We think of Fort Krowe as our base, but we don’t spend much time here."

"It sounds like the 23^rd sees a lot of action."

"Oh we do — of all sorts." Chip’s grin returned. "The other divisions rotate around the garrison towns on the borders. We get to visit places where they don’t normally see rangers. You won’t believe how enthusiastically women will grab their once in a lifetime chance to examine the contents of a ranger’s uniform." Chip glanced across the tavern. Once in a lifetime or not, Kim’s trader was clearly eager to undertake the investigation.

"I’m not into… I mean if that’s what other rangers want, it’s okay, but for myself, I don’t…" Katryn mumbled.

Chip yelped with laughter. "Now, that’s not the proper attitude for a ranger."

The humour missed Katryn. "I had a lover before and she…" Her voice failed her. Katryn’s expression had been starting to open. It snapped shut, but before it closed Chip saw into a raw pit of pain.

Chip slipped down in her chair, letting her gaze rise to the blackened beams of the ceiling. It would explain the transfer. Affairs between rangers weren’t approved of, but they were impossible to forbid. In the closed world of barracks and field-duty many rangers would sleep together, generally expressing no more than the intense camaraderie of active service. On a daily basis your life lay in your comrade’s hands, binding you closer than sisters. The authorities would take no action, unless the relationship got out of hand, threatening the military discipline of the squadron, but then they’d step in, hard. It was particularly likely in the case of an affair between an officer and her subordinate.

Katryn was attractive enough to make any ranger forget herself. It wasn’t surprising if a sergeant, or someone of even higher rank, had fallen for her. Separating the lovers was the quick, ruthless answer; and Katryn, as the new recruit, would be the one to be moved.

Chip’s face softened in sympathy. As she had thought before, it must be hard to be dumped in a new squadron, in circumstances which guaranteed distrust. And so much harder to do it with a broken heart.

continued in chapter 2