down, added two more escorts to each sector of the Highway. Figure it’s better to let them see our increased presence and to keep folks happy with more mail and the like.” And shorter trips for the escort edged the danger back a smidge, even as it filled the Highway with more guns and men and women who’d use them to protect those they were charged to protect.
“About a dozen annum back, aye? We had a lot of attacks then too. That’s when we added the fortifications to the road leading up from the Highway. Is it that bad now?”
“Don’t rightly know just yet. But if you can afford to add to your patrols, you should. Keep people up in those towers full time. They’re leaving the Highway to come to the garrisons more and more often. Maybe they have a baby boom.” He shrugged. They didn’t know a whole lot about the brigands. They were nomads in nature, moving in large encampments.
He’d been a tracker first, before he’d hit the Highway with his escort team. Throughout history, especially after the big tech war, the central governance had tried to reach out to the brigands, to offer them land to set up, help with crops and the like. Urging them to leave peaceably. But what the governance had been confronted with was that the brigands weren’t the same. They didn’t want to settle. They
liked
their raids. Seemed to embrace the bloodlust of preying on the weak, of the raping and killing.
They were human still, yes, but not fully. There was something different. Less . . . civilized he supposed. And they had no hesitation in the burning and the pillaging of anything they could.
“I’m on it then. I’ll be able to find you at the mercantile later?”
Loyal knew he should stay there at the barracks. After that kiss—and gods knew he’d thought about it constantly since he’d left—he should keep his distance. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
He turned, catching sight of that sunset red as she took delivery of the mail. “Yes. I’m available to help with your patrols as well. We’ll be here three days.”
“I’ll be up later then.” Haldeman smiled as he looked up the hill. “Think I’ll be getting the mail for my mother. Always nice to have an excuse to chat a spell with the widow Coleman.”
Loyal wanted to punch the other man for even thinking about her. Instead, he nodded again and tried to keep his expression neutral. “All right.”
He left his vehicle near the garrison and met up with the rest of his people.
“I’ve offered our services to Haldeman with the patrols. Trinity, I want you to be sure they’re at least taking the opportunity to track on occasion. Bren, you work with them on their hand to hand. Marcus, take a look at their sentry points outside the walls. Haldeman says he’s working on target practice so I imagine Indigo can help with that. Not tonight. Everyone get some rest tonight. Let’s be sure we leave Silver Cliffs safer than we found it.”
He headed up the hill, knowing she’d be there, needing it more than he should have.
The line for mail was the usual and he waited his turn. She caught sight of him and smiled. A smile just for him. “Head on up. I didn’t know you’d be arriving, so there’s no basket of baked goods. There’s fresh bread on cooling racks in the pantry, though. I’ll be up later.”
He nodded and headed around back.
• • •
S he managed to get finished and to close up within the hour. Since the delivery had come so late, most folks would wait until the following day to pick up their orders, which worked for her as she was hungry and tired.
And she wanted to see him.
The scent of his cigar hit her as she climbed to her front door. He sat at her kitchen table with a mug of tea at his left hand, a sheaf of papers before him on the table. She noted the red stamp at the top. Sealed blips, she noted. She delivered those—unread—to the garrison when they came. And there’d been a lot of them as of late.
“Good