Free Imperial Spy by Mark Robson

accurate, for when they came to leave the next morning one of the two servants was too sick to travel and had to be replaced. The servant chosen to go in his stead looked
bewildered by the whole affair, but managed to get ready so quickly that there was minimal delay.
    As this assignment was a long one, Femke decided that she would travel under her real name. The soldiers and servants were unlikely to know there was no real Shandese Ambassador named Femke, so
she felt sure they would not inadvertently unmask her as a fraud. Also, it removed the problem of keeping a fictitious name at the forefront of her mind. Once the replacement servant had loaded his
bags onto his packhorse, there was a quick round of introductions before Femke led them out onto the city streets.
    ‘We can do proper introductions as we ride,’ she said with a tone of authority. ‘There’ll be plenty of time to get to know one another before we reach Mantor.’
    After two weeks of travelling, Femke reflected on those departing words with a grimace. The spy had never been comfortable on a horse. Although she was a competent horsewoman, she had never
derived pleasure from riding and did not ride often. Within five days of leaving Shandrim, Femke’s bottom was so sore that the rest of the journey became a physical torment, made worse by her
four companions.
    The two soldiers, Sidis and Reynik, were cold and professional. Sidis held the rank of File Leader, whilst Reynik was a humble Legionnaire. Femke quickly formed the impression Reynik was
shielding a pleasant personality under his cold exterior, but would not allow anything except the professional soldier to show in front of Sidis. The older soldier was a cold fish who had no time
for civilians. Sidis clearly did not want to be on this mission. To him it was a babysitting job, unfitting for a soldier of his experience and rank. It was not long before Femke wished she could
grant his obvious desire to be back with his Legion.
    As if the remoteness of the two soldiers were not enough, Femke also had to live with the eccentricities of the two servants, Kalheen and Phagen. The servant who had joined them at the last
moment, Phagen, was so quiet that he could have been mute. Femke eventually gave up trying to engage the slim young man in conversation. At best she could draw only one- or two-word answers. He
appeared intelligent and capable enough, but was so introverted that Femke’s best efforts to include him in conversation fell flat.
    The one occasion when Phagen did come forward during the journey was when he realised that Femke was suffering with acute saddle-sores. He approached Femke discreetly at the campsite on the
evening of the fifth day and gave her a salve for her aching posterior. The numbing effect of the cool salve gave such relief that it brought tears of thankfulness. Afterwards, Femke was far more
willing to forgive his reticent nature.
    Kalheen was the antithesis of Phagen. He always had something to say. Stopping his incessant flow of monologues and reminiscences proved as impossible as getting Phagen to say more than
‘Yes, my Lady’ and ‘No, my Lady’. To begin with this was fine. Some of Kalheen’s stories were amusing – obviously hugely exaggerated, but they helped the miles
roll past. His deep voice was expressive, and his pace and story construction showed qualities many bards lacked. However, each story would prompt another and then another in an endless stream.
This became tiresome within a day.
    Where Phagen was thin as a pole, Kalheen tended towards fatness. At the campsites Kalheen always seemed to find the least physical tasks to do. This was not a problem, for the other three men
and Femke were all fit, and happy to do the work, but after a few days it began to irk Femke that he shamelessly shirked physical effort whenever possible.
    Two days out of Shandrim, Femke was ready to throttle all her companions for one reason or another. If they had not