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___The late afternoon felt stifling still, despite the slope of summer’s end, as Seifas walked back into camp, returning from patrol.
___Mists were gathering over the forests. Seifas wished for a breeze, but wasn’t expecting any during the Hazyslope side of summer.
___Since midsummer the weeks had been largely peaceful, aside from the usual minor squabbles within a brigade—especially one that had recently conquered an enemy.
___But the juacuar felt edgy.
___It was time to move. Somewhere. Anywhere.
___Preferably somewhere exciting. Somewhere with stocks for the winter, too.
___Not that there was a hurry, yet, Seifas allowed, as he ascended the hillside assigned to his company. But—how could he put it? They had better hurry, if they wanted to keep from having to hurry, to keep from having to hurry…!
___Seifas smiled at himself. What a difference fifty days could make, he thought. Ten weeks ago, the feeling from such an idea would have nettled him. Now he could laugh at the joke—while still of course taking it seriously.
___“‘Scuse me, sir!” piped a voice behind him.
___Seifas had heard the person approaching; and had wondered who it would be.
___“Yes, Dayva,” he nodded in greeting. “A message for me?”
___“Yes, sir!” saluted the girl, one of Gaekwar’s yeomen. As usual, Seifas fought an urge to tell her to go home; brigades were no place for a teenaged girl.
___But she probably didn’t have a home anymore.
___This was now her home, and she was doing her best to fit. Not too badly, either: Seifas thought she might one day become a decent officer.
___If she lived long enough. And if her spirit wasn’t crushed.
___Normally she was a cheerful soldier, refreshing the world wherever she went—much as the first breeze of autumn would, cutting at last through muggy summer. Seifas felt vaguely sad, that whenever Dayva met him, the edges of her personality froze into a brittle uneasiness.
___“Th’ C—Commander wants to meet with you-all. Th’ subcommanders, I mean,” she stuttered. She still held her hand in salute; Seifas frowned at her lapse. His frown didn’t help. “They’ll be w-waitin’ in th’ usual place, f’r you t’ get back from patrol. Sir!”
___“Thank you, Dayva,” Seifas nodded gravely. “Dismissed.” The girl took three steps backward—finally lowering her hand—and sharply spun in place before she marched away in another direction. Well, sometimes the novices tried a little too hard. He doubted that she would rely on formalities very much longer. One day, not many seasons from now, she would be a sister-in-arms.
___Seifas had never had a little sister.
___Juacuara, for a reason no one seemed to know, never had sisters. Not of the Guacu-ara, at any rate.
___He wondered whether his natural mother had carried any daughters…who she was…who his natural father was…
___He wondered how many juacuara, when finally given some freedom, had found their natural families.
Seifas had never been given that chance, even to choose not to search. The Culling had come; almost the moment he’d finished his graduate classes, it seemed.
___And then, he had run…
___Seifas turned away from that thought, unable to face its pain.
___Thinking of a family he would never be able to find, was a relief by comparison.
___So: a sister. A little sister.
___Well, if he had a little sister, he would want her to be like Dayva. He wondered what kind of woman she would become, with the advantages of a military training and discipline—
___and then to his mind there flashed a face—a cold dead face; and cold dead eyes…
___eyes that had been dead before he struck…
___the eyes of a woman who casually murdered the hope of a common sister, for her own amusement…not looking at him, but looking ahead, toward something too awful to bear…
___Had that woman’s spirit been crushed, long before?
___Had she been once like Dayva, but then mangled?
___Seifas pitied that woman.
___If she’d only seen something before her, awaiting her as she died—then what hope did she have?
___But…perhaps she had also seen something within her.
___Then there might…just might…have been hope—even in that final moment.
___If there was any justice.
___And Seifas found himself smiling.
___For the Eye was the Lord of Justice.
___How astonishing! He had hope for her!—a woman he gladly had slain as a brigand, a waste of a person!
___Yet, perhaps she hadn’t deserved to become the person she had been. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been that person, if someone had stood for her.
___Seifas vowed: his little sister would always have someone to stand for her.
___He shook his head—whole minutes had slipped by! His peers might be annoyed by his delay; but, the heat would only become more mild.
___He loped around the western face of the hill, heading northward.
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