Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [57]
“Blind!” Burek said. “I thought he would live or die, and if he lived, recover.”
“It is … hard to imagine,” Arcolin said. “Hard for us all; you knew him only a short while, but for many of us …”
“You will pension him, surely.”
“I will think,” Arcolin said. “Go find Devlin and send him to me.” Devlin, who had been Stammel’s corporal for so long before the disruptions of Siniava’s War had promoted him.
“You have word,” Devlin said as he came into the tent.
“He’s alive, but blind,” Arcolin said. Devlin looked stunned, the way he himself felt. “He can walk; he can even drill, after a fashion. He threw a yeoman in an unarmed fighting drill. The Marshal pressured the Council to give him a small pension, if he wants to stay there, and will find him a room in someone’s house.”
“No,” Devlin said. “No, that can’t be.”
“I’m sorry,” Arcolin said. “But it’s true.”
“That’s not what I meant, sir. I understand: he’s blind. But he can’t—he will die—if he’s penned up in some spare room, alone, without us. Sir, you have to bring him here. He can walk; he can march with us. If he can drill, he’ll get stronger. He knows so much—he can teach me, and Arñe and Jenits and the rest.”
“But if we’re in combat—he can’t fight—”
“He can at least be with us,” Devlin said. “I know that’s what he’d want—he probably won’t ask you—but it’s what he wants. What he needs. And we need him. If he’d lost a leg or something, if he couldn’t keep up—but you say he can—”
“The Marshal says he’s well enough to move out of the grange, but—ours is a hard life for men with sight.”
“And the life he knows,” Devlin said.
“The Duke—” Arcolin began; Devlin interrupted him.
“It’s not Phelan’s Company anymore, sir, but yours. Maybe you think Kieri Phelan would have sent him back north, but you can do what you want.”
He wanted Stammel back, but he wanted the Stammel who no longer existed, the Stammel who had not lost his sight because Arcolin had agreed to a civilian’s request. But he wanted Stammel back here to talk to, to steady the troops.
“They’ll need horses,” he said. “Let me think—Stammel should have my ambler; he’s steady and a smooth ride. He won’t have ridden in a while. Arñe or Doggal can ride the fast one I left up there. And four more. We don’t have four spares, unless we don’t move and send the wagon teams … or switch out mules …”
“I’ll take care of that, sir,” Devlin said. “Thank you, sir!”
Arcolin wrote out the orders for Arñe. He wanted to go himself, but the cohort could not afford to lose another senior person; the courier could take the orders back. He wrote a letter of thanks to Marshal Harak and one each for the Captains of Tir and Falk.
Only a few days later, a small party of horse travelers proved to be the missing six, all wearing absurd floppy straw hats over their helmets. Arcolin thought Stammel looked perfectly normal at first and wondered if he had regained his sight, but then he saw Suli, riding beside him, touch his arm and take the rein of the horse.
Arcolin strode forward, but Stammel had dismounted by the time Arcolin reached the group, and Arñe greeted him. “No problems on the road, Captain.”
“Glad to have you all back with us,” Arcolin said. “You’ll want to see Sergeant Devlin; we’ve made some temporary assignments. He will explain.” Arñe told Tam and Doggal to put the horses up, then, at his nod, headed for Devlin, who was near the fire-pit. The other two, at another nod, headed for their companions. This close, Arcolin could see that Stammel’s eyes did not focus on him, but wandered, as if searching for the light, their once-clear brown clouded. It was eerie; he tried not to shudder. At least the whites were no longer red. Stammel stood upright, rigid as if at inspection, his face unreadable. “Stammel—” Arcolin said; he felt his throat close, took the two steps forward, and gripped Stammel by the shoulders. The bones were closer to the skin than they had been. “I thought—I was afraid we’d lose you, man.”
“Thank you for letting me come back, sir,” Stammel said. He sighed. “But you have lost me, one way.