In the Skin of a Nunqua by R. J. Pouritt Read Free Book Online Page A

Face said.
    “To a Nunqua, it’s a grave humiliation.”
    “Let me get this straight: getting scarred from losing sword fights is a mark of pride, but cutting your hair is a humiliation?” Flat Face shook his head.
    “Better get used to humiliation, Shanti,” Gray Streak said.
    Flat Face punched her in the shoulder, hard. “I got money riding on ya, girlie. Don’t let me down.”
    “I won’t.”
    “Gray Streak put out his hand. “I have every confidence in you.”
    She shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”
    The men left, and the women hugged her, except for Leanna, who moved away and wrinkled the parchment in her tight grip.
    Shanti went over and carefully took the letter out of Leanna’s hands. She was beginning to realize why commanders had few friends. “I didn’t ask for this,” she said.
    “I’ve been in the military longer than you.”
    “The Willovian military.”
    “I made the plan to drug Mossgail,” Leanna said. “I got the supplies we needed. I planted the garden.”
    “We all did that,” Shanti said.
    Leanna stared out the window, her jaw set in stone. “Why you?”
    “Let me ask you a question,” Shanti said. “Remember when I first came here and rode as a guard with the supply cart to the Outer Boundaries? Toulley couldn’t go, because his shoulder needed time to heal. If Chief Emmins had asked you to take Toulley’s place as a guard, would you have gone, knowing you’d have to sleep outside in the rain, use a rock for a pillow, and eat cold food for days? And if the cart was attacked by bandits, you’d have to fight, possibly kill someone, to save the supplies, or even get killed?”
    “If Chief Emmins ordered me to ride as a guard, I would go.”
    “I didn’t say ordered. If he asked you to go, would you have done it? Honestly?”
    “No,” Leanna said.
    Shanti repeated Caravey’s words: “ Pain is our teacher, sacrifice our duty. ” She’d been with the Willovians for almost a year, yet she sometimes found herself favoring Caravey’s teachings. Was his influence really that strong? She moved aside the bed and retrieved her weapons from the hole.
    “If you don’t make it through the training,” Leanna said, “if you quit, we’ll never get the respect we deserve. And I’ll kill you myself.”
    The attitude indicated a jest. Shanti pushed the bed back, relieved at the break in tension. Leanna wouldn’t stay jealous for long. It was a momentary reaction, quickly overcome by reason. Their friendship would withstand the strain. “You can try.”
    “Shanti,” Leanna said.
    Considering how long Leanna had taken to say her name in the first place, it was a fitting send-off. Shanti bowed grandly and left the infirmary.
    *
    More than one person told her she had come to the wrong place. The soldiers weren’t being rude; they simply had never encountered a female commander before. Of course, she wasn’t a commander yet, merely a candidate.
    Seventeen soldiers milled about the stone building in the main camp, waiting for instructions. Shanti spotted a tall one from behind, lean but not too thin, his hair cut short. Something about him jolted her memory. She studied his mannerisms, the way he walked, and caught a glimpse of brown eyes. It had been a long time since the Mossgail incident, but the investigator had made an impression. Was it him? She moved through the crowd to get closer. “Excuse me,” she said, “but you look familiar.”
    “Hello, Shanti.”
    He remembered . So he was a soldier and not a civilian. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t know your name.”
    “Taran. Are you ready for this?”
    “How do you know I’m here for the training? Everyone else thinks I’m lost. They keep pointing me back toward the infirmary.”
    He gave her the same sheepish grin from the night he had put his arm around her. Maybe Taran knew who had nominated her. He was an investigator, after all, with access to information.
    “You know they’ll probably make you