Cordelia's Honor - Lois McMaster Bujold [28]
"What is this, Lieutenant Buffa?" Vorkosigan pinned the senior of the group with a thunderous frown.
"I thought the Betans killed you, sir!" said Buffa.
"They didn't," Vorkosigan said shortly. "What are you doing with this Betan?"
"Tafas captured him in the woods, sir. We've been trying to question him—find out if there's any more around—" he glanced at Cordelia, "but he refuses to talk. Hasn't said a word. And I always thought Betans were soft."
Vorkosigan rubbed his hand over his face for a moment, as if praying for strength.
"Buffa," he said patiently, "this man was hit by disruptor fire five days ago. He can't talk, and if he could he wouldn't know anything anyway."
"Barbarians!" cried Cordelia, kneeling on the ground. Dubauer had recognized her, and was clutching her. "You Barrayarans are nothing but barbarians, scoundrels, and assassins!"
"And fools. Don't leave out fools." Vorkosigan withered Buffa with a glare. A couple of the men had the good grace to look rather ill, as well as ill at ease. Vorkosigan let out his breath with a sigh. "Is he all right?"
"Seems to be," she admitted reluctantly. "But he's pretty shaken up." She was shaking herself in her outrage.
"Commander Naismith, I apologize for my men," said Vorkosigan formally, and loudly, so that no one there could mistake that their Captain humbled himself before his prisoner because of them.
"Don't click your heels at me," muttered Cordelia savagely, for his ear alone. At his bleak look she relented a little, and said more loudly, "It was an error in interpretation." Her eye fell on Lieutenant Buffa, attempting to make his considerable height appear to melt into the ground. "Any blind man could have made it. Oh, hell," she added, for Dubauer's terror and distress were triggering another convulsion. Most of the Barrayarans looked away, variously embarrassed. Vorkosigan, who was getting practiced, knelt to give her what aid she needed. When the seizure subsided he stood.
"Tafas, give your weapons to Koudelka," he ordered. Tafas hesitated, glancing around, then slowly complied.
"I didn't want any part of it, sir," he said desperately. "But Lieutenant Radnov said it was too late."
"You'll get a chance to speak for yourself later on," said Vorkosigan wearily.
"What's going on?" asked the bewildered Buffa. "Have you seen Commander Gottyan, sir?"
"I've given Commander Gottyan—separate orders. Buffa, you are now in charge of the landing party." Vorkosigan repeated his orders for the arrest of his short list, and detached a group to carry out the task.
"Ensign Koudelka, take my prisoners to the cave, and see that they're given proper food, and whatever else Commander Naismith requires. Then see that the shuttle is ready to go. We'll be leaving for the ship as soon as the—other prisoners are secured." He avoided the word "mutineers," as though it were too strong, like blasphemy.
"Where are you going?" asked Cordelia.
"I'm going to have a talk with Commander Gottyan. Alone."
"Hm. Well, don't make me regret my own advice." Which was as close as she could come at the moment to saying, Be careful.
Vorkosigan acknowledged all her meanings with a wave of his hand, and turned back for the woods. He was limping more noticeably now.
* * *
She helped Dubauer to his feet, and Koudelka led them to the cave's mouth. The young man seemed so much like Dubauer's opposite number, she found it hard to maintain her hostility.
"What happened to the old man's leg?" Koudelka asked her, glancing back over his shoulder.
"He's got an infected scratch," she understated, inclined to endorse his evident policy of keeping up a good show for the benefit of his unreliable crew. "It should get some high grade medical attention, as soon as you can get him to slow down for it."
"That's the old man for you. I've never seen anybody that age with that much energy."
"That age?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.
"Well, of course