Parl almost fainted.
Macurdy looked around for Melody, and found her, her mouth a hard line. “Lieutenant Melody, talk with these women and come up with amends and punishments for the foraging party. And what the whole company can do for them before we take these women home again. I’ll decide after supper.”
Melody and the oldest victim came up with castration, to be followed by staking out over ant hills, naked in the sun. The girls couldn’t bring themselves even to talk about it. Macurdy, though, wouldn’t go along with such draconian and terminal punishments. The older victim relented before Melody.
He announced the amends the next morning at muster, and the punishments were meted. Each of the three captives was awarded 20 silver teklota or the equivalent, at the cost of every man but the newcomers, which virtually stripped the rebels of money. Some had to borrow from newcomers to pay their share. And remarkably no one grumbled, at least where Macurdy could hear. Beyond that, two conscience-stricken youths—brothers—asked leave to marry the girls, if they’d have them. The girls didn’t say yes, but they didn’t refuse, either, and Macurdy gave the youths a three-week leave, should the girls and their parents accept the offer. He didn’t really care whether they came back or not. The girls, he thought, might need their reassurance more than he did their military service.
As for the foraging crew who’d stolen them, their leader was to receive ten strokes of the rod from each victim, and the other four, five each. The rod being unpeeled hornbeam about half an inch thick. But when it came down to it, the younger girl struck only the leader, twice, then burst into tears, threw away the cane, and ran to hide. Her sister wouldn’t touch it. The older woman, though, laid it on with vigor, as if to make up for the unwillingness of the others, and Macurdy allowed her to strike for the younger two.
The results were an ugly bloody mess. Macurdy would let them suffer a day before trying the healing techniques Arbel had taught him.
The two girls were returned to their homes the next day, Jesker and Melody leading the escort to tell the families what had happened to Orthal, who’d ordered the capture, and to the foragers who’d taken them. Macurdy didn’t think the girls could bring themselves to talk about it. The escort included the two volunteer bridegrooms, who didn’t come back. Melody said they’d been allowed by the parents to stay.
The older woman remained with the company. “After what happened,” she told Melody and Macurdy, “my husband would never have me back. And he’s prosperous; he’ll soon enough have another wife to keep his bed warm and mother our son.” For a moment her mouth twisted, not with grief but bitterness, then she shook it off. “My father had no sons, and I was the oldest of three daughters. I’m strong. I worked in the field until I was married, behind the plow and with scythe and ax, rake and spade, pitchfork and pry pole. I never had a doll; I played with the bow. On summer pasture I’ve slept in the cow shed with a sword to hand, when there were tracks of cat or bear or troll around. I’m a good enough shot, I killed a wolf once, when they threatened the cattle, and another time I sent a catamount running off with an arrow in its flank.
“These”—she gestured at the camp and its men—“took my old life away from me. You can give me a new one now, and a spear and bow, and let me stay as a rebel. Afterward I’ll see, if there is an afterward. These others are no more trained for fighting than I am, and women, more than menfolk, feel the curse of Gurtho. Some have even scarred their daughter’s face, be she pretty enough that Gurtho’s agents might take her away as part of the tax.”
With that, Macurdy lost any misgivings about leading these men.
* * *
After muster, he sorted out the things in Orthal’s tent, stacking outside those he didn’t want, for others to take. When he’d finished, he sat on a short section of log, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, his energy suddenly gone. Looking back at Washington County with greater appreciation than ever.