Sheepfarmers Daughter by Elizabeth Moon Read Free Book Online

against the wall opposite the torch. "Tir's bones, I don't see how you could have half-killed him in the shape you're in." Then he paused, glancing down at his arm and then at the stone bench. "It
is
blood. What did they — "
    Paks felt herself slipping down the wall; she could not seem to hold herself up.
    "Here, now — don't fall," said Stammel. The warning came too late. Paks lay curled on her side, heaving helplessly.
    "I'm - I'm sorry — " she gasped finally.
    "Lie still then. Let me look — " Stammel raised her tunic. Even in the flickering torchlight he could see the welts and dried blood on her thighs. Her tunic was ripped in several places. Stammel swore suddenly, words Paks had heard from her cousin. Then his voice softened. "Paks, I'm going to talk to the captain. We'll get this straightened out somehow. You can't be faking these injuries, and their story doesn't hold up when you're too weak to stand." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Now, let's get you back on the bench. I'll try to get the captain to let me have Maia see you, but don't count on it." He half-lifted her. "Come on — help me. You're too big for me to lift alone."
    Paks struggled up and finally made it onto the bench with Stammel's help.
    "I'll be back to check again tonight, and of course in the morning. You'll be all right, though miserable. Try not to move around — that may help the heaves — and don't panic. We won't forget you." With that Stammel took down the torch, opened the door, and left, taking the light with him. Paks lay in the darkness, not quite sure whether she felt better or worse about her prospects.
    Stammel came up from the cells looking, had he known it, as angry as he felt. Bosk waited near the head of the stairs. When he caught sight of Stammel's face, his own seemed to freeze for an instant. Stammel, his mind whirling with what he must do, and quickly, before the captain went to bed, stopped at the head of the stairs and beckoned. "Corporal Bosk," he said, and his voice surprised himself.
    "Yes, sir." Bosk was looking at something below his face — at his sleeve, Stammel realized. He felt unreasonably irritated.
    "I didn't do it, Bosk; you know better!"
    "Yes, sir." Bosk's eyes came back to his.
    "We have a problem, Bosk, and little time to solve it. I want you to isolate Korryn, at once. I want to speak to everyone who was in that room from the time Stephi came in until we got there — no matter who, or how long they stayed — everyone. Separately — I'll use the duty room for that. And before I talk to them, I want to know what they've been doing, and what you and Devlin think. But quickly."
    "Yes, sir. Do you want me to move Korryn first? And where?"
    "Yes. Use that storage chamber down the way, and put a guard with him. He's not to talk to anyone. Is Dev in the duty room?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Good. I'll be there. You take care of Korryn and come to me when it's done."
    "Yes, sir." Bosk left the recruit barracks to find a guard, and Stammel walked to the duty room down the hall. Inside, Devlin was writing up the log of his watch, frowning. Stammel stepped into the room and Devlin looked up.
    "Are they quiet?" asked Stammel.
    "About what you'd expect. I thought we were going to have more trouble for a bit: Korryn and Saben. But I made 'em shut up."
    Stammel realized that Devlin, too, was looking at his blood-stained sleeve. "Dev, I haven't been beating her — someone else did that."
    "Sir. I wouldn't have thought she'd brawl like that."
    "I don't think she did, Dev." Stammel paused to listen to feet in the passage behind him. Bosk must have found a guard. Devlin looked confused.
    "But, sir, they both said the same thing. And Stephi was down."
    "Yes. That'll bear thinking on." Stammel heard voices in the barracks; he and Devlin both listened. Korryn, sounding aggrieved; Bosk, sounding grim and certain. Then three sets of footsteps in the passage, going away. Stammel resumed. "Devlin, if I'd asked you this morning whose