Free Demontech: Gulf Run by David Sherman

the ground, she lowered herself and leaned against him. “All was quiet out there,” he finished, and looped an arm around Maid Marigold to give her an affectionate squeeze.
    “The healers all say we need to stay here for a day or two, to give the wounded a chance to mend,” Alyline said.
    “I’m not sure we can,” Spinner told her.
    “If no one’s following we can,” Fletcher said. “If the Jokapcul
are
closing on us, we’re better off preparing defenses than trying to outrun them.”
    “We’ll see what Silent says,” Spinner said weakly. He thought this was an argument he was going to lose.
    “We
have
to stop,” Alyline insisted.
    “We can
afford
to stop,” Fletcher said with lesser insistence.
    Zweepee said nothing. She lay her fingers along Fletcher’s cheek and looked down at him. He returned her look, then rose.
    “We’ll see what Silent says in the morning,” Fletcher said, then murmured good-nights as he and his wife headed for their small tent.
    Haft had nothing to contribute to the discussion. He and Maid Marigold were cuddling perhaps more intimately than they should in front of the others.
    Alyline looked at them and cleared her throat. “I’m for sleep,” she said. “Perhaps we all should sleep now.” She got to her feet and went to the small shelter she’d erected for herself.
    Spinner ached to go with her but didn’t move. He knew she’d rebuff him. He already felt everyone was against him on the matter of movement, and he didn’t want to face a more personal rejection. He looked at Haft and Maid Marigold, who were now kissing passionately, and squeezed his eyes closed. Without a word, he rose and headed for his bedroll—he hadn’t erected a shelter for himself.
    A short while later Maid Marigold broke away from Haft and pushed a lock of hair back into place. “Not here, Haft,” she murmured. “Let’s go to our tent.”
    It was late morning by the time Silent and Wolf returned to the camp, which was already broken. Horses and oxen were hitched to wagons and dogs to carts. Riding horses were saddled, children, oldsters, the lame, and the worst wounded bided their time on wagons—the children restlessly. All was ready to go.
    The giant steppe nomad went straight to where the command group’s cookfire had burned the night before, Wolf padding at his heels. Once at the charred circle, he swiftly lay wood for a fire, then squatted and struck a spark to tinder. Flames quickly began to lick the twigs, then spread to the larger pieces of wood. Only when he was satisfied the fire was starting did he acknowledge Spinner and the others.
    Spinner asked again, “What did you find?”
    Silent didn’t have to look very far up from his squat to look into Spinner’s eyes. “I’m hungry, where’s food?” he asked.
    Spinner gaped at him. “You’ve been gone on a reconnaissance since last night’s dusk and all you can say is ’where’s food?’ ”
    “And I haven’t eaten since before then.” He looked at Wolf, who lay contentedly at his side. “
He
ate, but he wouldn’t share.
He
caught small rodents and chomped them down whole. But would he bring me a fawn?
No!
”
    “Ulgh!”
Wolf protested. There’d been no chance to hunt for a fawn; they were on a reconnaissance!
    Silent laughed and briskly ruffled Wolf’s neck and shoulders. “I’m just kidding, friend. I wasn’t hungry enough for raw rodents, and we didn’t have time to make a fire.”
    “Here’s food.” Doli approached with a loaf of not-too-stale bread. Maid Primrose carried a pot of leftover stew, which she set on the fire to warm up.
    “My thanks, ladies.” Silent took the bread and bit off a huge piece, which he quickly chewed and swallowed. He settled back and sat cross-legged on the ground. “Sit,” he said to Spinner, with a gesture that included Haft, Fletcher, and Alyline. They sat on the log they’d used for a bench the night before. Zweepee squeezed in next to her husband, Doli shooed the