Chunk 3
Halvic puffed up even more and Luka wondered whether he'd burst right there in the street. No such luck -- that'd be too simple a solution.

"We will do as we see fit!" Halvic bellowed, glancing around at his fellows as though double checking that they were still with him. "This is none of your business!"

A quick glance showed Luka that one or two of the mob were looking doubtful but most were glaring at him just as angrily as the smith. "It is everyone's business when a murderer goes by his house," Luka retorted. "Or a gang of murderers." He took a step back for space and drew his swords, the double shing sound echoed when Tochi did the same. "You leave the fellow with me and I'll see he does no more spying. Go back and see to your own families."

He wasn't really expecting them to do any such thing, and sure enough they didn't. A man with a torch hollered what he doubtless fancied was a war-cry and swung the flaming length at Luka's head.

Luka parried the torch, catching it on the dull back edge of his left sword, then smacked the man across the ear with the flat of his right. The street was chaos around him and he moved around the edge of the melee, swords spinning. He heard Tochi give an enthusiastic whoop and sighed. Have to talk to him about that.

The long knives would've been much better in the crowd if they'd been seriously trying to hurt anyone, or if anyone there had had any serious weaponry. Dampening the enthusiasm of a dozen unruly civilians was very different from taking out a gang of murderous bandits, though, and the flat sides of the long swords were much more useful than the flats of the knives, or even the pommels.

The torch that'd been swung at Luka had gone skittering across the pavement and the erstwhile victim, Roscha, had grabbed it up and was whaling away with it. Luka couldn't really blame him, although he hoped no one was seriously injured. Most of the city men had the sense to stay away from him and keeping enemies out of arm's reach seemed to satisfy Roscha. Good enough.

A minute later the last few amateur hangmen were dashing off, shouting curses and threats over their shoulders. A cheer drifted down from over the gate and Luka looked up to see a row of waving shadows while likely constituted half his students.

"All right, it's over," he called. "Let us in, quick, before they decide to come back with friends."

The gate swung open enough for a man to slip through and Tochi bounced inside, already calling excited boasts to the small group gathered in the courtyard. Roscha was still standing with his torch, peering up the dark street. Still cautious, Luka tapped him lightly on the shoulder with the flat of one sword tip. The man gave a startled exclamation and spun round, swinging the flaming brand in a wide arc.

"Enough! They're gone! Relax, it's just me. Come on, inside. It's safe and we've a bit of broth we'll share." Hot water with a few beans long since boiled to death, but it was warming and enough to fool the belly for a short time.

Roscha looked up and down the street once more, then nodded. He shifted the torch to his left hand and held his right out to Luka. "Thank you."

Luka nodded and clasped hands. Roscha had a firm grip, and the hard, callused hand of a man who did work every day. Roscha nodded back, then stepped through the gate. Luka followed him, and made sure it was well secured before going inside. The half dozen boys who hadn't followed Tochi scampered along, babbling questions and exclamations about the fight, save for the two whose turn it was to keep watch above the gate. It was their watch until midnight and Luka was confident they'd keep to it without reminding, no matter what excitement was going on inside the school.



Roscha had downed his cup of bean broth with expected speed and enthusiasm. The boys had been ready to bombard him with questions all night but Luka could see that the man was swaying with fatigue, with the tension of impending death wearing off and leaving him limp and blinking. He'd chased the boys away and shown Roscha to Luka's own bed, then went out to keep the boys on the gate company.

The city never really went to sleep these days, although Luka couldn't figure out where it found the energy, starving as it was. The night spirits found easy prey, though, however starved, and most of the true horrors of the seige -- the ones caused by those inside at any rate -- had been committed at night. Luka had gotten into the habit of staying up through the dark hours and napping through most of the morning. Tochi went to bed at the midnight watch and was awake in the morning while Luka slept, and he knew to rouse his master if anything threatened the compound. Luka had only had his sleep disturbed half a dozen times in the last months; Tochi had proven his judgement was sound when it came to both waking Luka up and allowing him to sleep, which let Luka sleep all the more soundly.

At dawn, Luka went inside, stripped down to his breeches and shirt and slid into bed as gently as he could so as not to awaken their guest. The other man was still mostly dressed as well. Most folk slept naked but Luka had gotten out of the habit during his years with the army as a young man, when it could be worth a soldier's life to be surprised with a bare ass. When the enemy was near he'd slept in his armor as well.

He supposed that wandering the roads and then the city streets had gotten Roscha out of the habit of stripping as well. It was easy for a man alone to be robbed while asleep, and while being dressed wouldn't stop a thief who didn't mind breaking his skull, it would stop the sneakier type from making off with his clothes, at least.

The bed was wide enough for the wife he'd never bothered to take, so he and Roscha fit without too much nudging. Luka turned his back on the other man in his bed, put the breadth of shoulders on the shadowed silhouette firmly out of his mind, and sank into sleep quickly, another soldier's habit put to good use.



When Tochi came to wake Luka at noon, Roscha was already out of bed. While Luka dressed, Tochi reported a quiet morning, said that their guest had washed himself and his clothes and then settled down to watch Tochi drilling the younger students in the courtyard. He'd been friendly enough whenever the boys had curious questions but otherwise had kept quiet and caused no trouble. Luka nodded acknowledgement and they went back out to the courtyard together.

The main meal, such as it was, was midday, and it took little enough to prepare. The two boys on kitchen roster for the month handed out a palm-size piece of hard bread and a thumb-size lump of dried mutton. Roscha raised an eyebrow but thanked Kova solemnly when he was handed his share. Most of the boys dipped their bread into cups, although a few preferred to gnaw on it dry to make it last longer.

Luka sat down on the hard-packed dirt beside Roscha with his own food. Cleaned up and seen in daylight, the man was roughly handsome, with the dark hair of an easterner but curly rather than straight, and it framed the square face of the western folk. It wasn't common, but neither was it terribly rare. Wars spread blood in more ways than one, and hardly any Ruvori could boast of pure blood.

It had been a long time since he'd had the close company of a man near his own age, and he estimated Roscha to be about that. He was thirty-eight himself and Roscha could be anywhere from his early thirties to his early forties. A little shorter than Luka, he was broader and still fit. He must have been a magnificent man before the seige.

And that line of thought would get him a blackened eye, or even denounced in the square, and wouldn't Halvic Smith be delighted to hand out the stones? Luka doubted Roscha would go so far against a man to whom he owed his life, but the revulsion against men who lay with other men was strong and bitter and one could never tell. He removed both his eyes and his thoughts to other things and asked, "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have since I left home," Roscha said, his gaze direct and his voice sincere. "And I owe you once again for sharing your food. I knew you were a brave and honorable man, but you are generous as well."

Luka made a throwing-away motion. "It's little enough. We went on rations as soon as the Molani came over the horizon and we've always kept the store rooms filled. Most of my students go into the army and it's well for them to be accustomed to field rations and to know how to stretch them, so we've always had a lot of... this." He waved his dry bread. "It's served us well through the seige, although the meat is about to run out."

He glanced at Roscha and added, "I'd be grateful if you didn't mention it outside these walls. We've had looters try to break in already looking for weapons. If they knew we had any amount of food left, there'd be no stopping the tide of hungry folk. We've enough for the household but if half the city broke in, it'd be less than a crumb for each -- we'd starve ourselves and no one else would be any less hungry than they are now." He shrugged, regretting but acknowledging the cold reality of it.

Roscha nodded quickly. "I'll stay silent. It'd be a poor repayment to bring the mob to your door after you took me from them."

Luka nodded back his thanks.

They ate in silence for a while, then Roscha glanced over at him and asked, "I've been wondering why you're not with the army now. You're obviously skilled, and your boys. Most are too young but surely the army could use you and the oldest students?"

"My family has always served," Luka said, his voice calm and easy. Many people who asked that question were suspicious or accusing, or ready to jeer at him for cowardice, but Roscha had only sounded curious. "But as I said, most of my boys go for soldiers, and usually officers. I'm of more use here, training dozens of swords, than offering only my two to the army directly.

He took a bite of his mutton and chewed the leathery stuff for a minute, then added, "I served in the war against Chuvo when I was young, and did well enough. So I've the experience and I share it with my students. But my father handed me my first practice swords when I could barely toddle and I'm better as a teacher. Especially now -- with the seige, there's little for the army to do besides man the walls and shoot arrows at any of the Molani fucks who get too enthusiastic. I'm competent with a bow but not expert, so...." He shrugged and took another bite.