[Chalion fic] As We Mean to Go On
A post for the 2011 Bujold Fest at bujold_fic, for a prompt by philomytha: Ista and Illvin-More of their romance after the end of PoS, possibly with adventures.
As We Mean to Go On
(1805 words | PG-13 for innuendo | post-Paladin of Souls)
As Ista leads her traveling court into Jokona with the first wave of Chalionese troops, she must decide how to go about filling her new roles. Several of them.
[Also at AO3]
As We Mean to Go On
It took them longer than Ista had expected to run into their first company of Jokonan soldiers.
It was a small company, only a dozen men, appearing over the crest of a hill in the early evening. A dozen men should have been no match at all for the Chalionese troops, but these Jokonans came riding straight at them, urged on by their commander, who had an oddly smug smile on his face.
The commander’s behavior would have made Ista suspicious even if she hadn’t seen the violet light of the demon that rode him.
Nodding sharply to Illvin and dy Cabon, she slapped her reins to urge her own Demon forward, up to the head of the Chalionese column where Chancellor dy Cazaril and Marshal dy Palliar rode.
Dy Cazaril was watching for her. “Have we found a sorcerer already?”
“We have,” said Ista. “Shall I go ahead and, um, remove the demon directly?”
Dy Cazaril’s lips quirked at her circumspect phrasing. He knew what metaphor the Bastard had given her for demon removal. He also knew that she had decided to refrain from talk of eating demons around those who might be less familiar with the ways of the gods.
“What will happen next if you do?” asked dy Palliar.
“Chaos and confusion, most likely.” Ista met his gaze levelly. “The commander may lose his wits, and if he does, his men will surely turn tail and flee from our superior numbers. Or the commander may order a retreat himself.”
Dy Palliar frowned. “Then perhaps we should let them get closer, so that we can capture them before they escape to warn others of our advance.”
“If we do that, we risk letting them get close enough to carry out whatever uncanny plan the commander has in mind.” Ista peered at the approaching soldiers. They were already plenty close enough for the demon’s magic to affect them if the commander chose to use it.
Dy Palliar shot a glance at dy Cazaril, but the chancellor gazed blandly back, waiting for his marshal to make the decision.
“All right,” said dy Palliar. “We can’t possibly keep our progress through Jokona secret for much longer, anyhow, and one of the other advancing forces may be seen even if ours is not. Go ahead, if you please, Royina.”
Ista nodded and turned away, concentrating on the demon. She reached out with her spirit hands and caught up the violet fire. The commander struggled to hold onto it, but he wasn’t very strong, and she was able to leave most of his own soul intact when she pulled the demon away and ate it.
Well done, faithful Ista, came the echo of a Voice in her head, and the demon was gone from the world.
The Jokonan commander slumped in his saddle and nearly slid off, but then he straightened and barked an order to his men. As one, they wheeled around and began to gallop away.
“Take them!” called dy Palliar, and the Chalionese soldiers launched themselves after the Jokonans, sending a hail of crossbow bolts ahead of their advance.
Ista and her own small company dropped back, staying out of the way. Two of the Jokonans fell from their saddles and lay still, and Ista felt the taking up of their souls (one was actually claimed by the Bastard, which would likely surprise that young Quadrene man’s soul very much). Four others were captured along with their mounts and were brought to the end of the Chalionese column, the first prisoners of dy Palliar’s campaign to take Visping. But half a dozen men, including the commander, galloped away up the road.
“Surely Jokona is in enough disarray that the news of a large advancing Chalionese force will give rise to more disorder, rather than bringing an organized attack down on us,” Ista mused.
“That seems likely,” said dy Cabon, hopefully.
“Unless the Jokonans have more sorcerers handy.” Illvin’s voice was as dry as the sun-baked rocks that lined the road.
“Well,” said Ista, with a certain feeling of satisfaction. “That is why we are here.”
~ * ~
Not long afterward, they stopped to make camp for the night. Dy Palliar set up a heavy rotation of perimeter guards, but he said, and Illvin and dy Cazaril seemed to agree, that it would likely take the Jokonans a few days to pull together any kind of concerted attack force.
“I almost feel that I should be watching the perimeter as well,” said Ista. She and Liss, dy Cabon, dy Hixar, and Illvin were eating their evening meal with the officers. “Especially with Foix still in Cardegoss. I wish Archdivine Mendenal hadn’t insisted he stay there until the saint of the Bastard from Alcarras could be brought in to give him his initial training-we could do with a sorcerer on our side.”
“Umegat thought it was important,” dy Cazaril countered, “and I defer to his judgment in matters pertaining to Temple sorcerers.” The chancellor swallowed some of his well-watered wine and scrutinized her, eyes alight with curiosity and possibly a little envy. “Will you wake, if a demon comes near?”
“I don’t know, yet.” She turned to dy Palliar. “My lord marshal, be sure to tell the men on guard duty that they should send for me if anything odd happens. Or even anything that seems as though it might be odd. No matter what the hour.”
Dy Palliar looked as though he were about to protest, but then he thought better of it. “Yes, Royina, as you say.”
Ista nodded, satisfied. Dy Cazaril, true to form, had understood immediately what Ista’s new calling meant, and how important her presence was in these first stages of the Visping campaign. But she rather suspected that dy Palliar, behind his unfailing courtesy-and despite all the excited tales of lethal demon-magic that he had heard from the exhausted men of Porifors-had been skeptical at first.
Well, perhaps today’s encounter had helped to convince him.
In any case, Ista would continue to make clear how she expected the military officers to work with her. If there was anything she had learned from her mother the Provincara, it was the trick of taking things so adamantly for granted that others began to do so as well.
We shall begin, Ista resolved, as we mean to go on.
~ * ~
After the meal, dy Cazaril escorted Ista and the others back to their small cluster of tents, separate from the officers’ tents but still deep inside the circle of Chalionese troops. “Do you have everything you need?” he asked.
Ista looked around. All their tents were set up, and their horses were picketed nearby. Dy Hixar had even seen to it that enough water had been fetched for washing. “Yes, this is fine. Thank you, Cazaril.”
He bowed, with a smile, and hurried off to attend to his own business.
“Royina?” Illvin stood at her elbow. “Might I have a word?” In private, he did not add, but the low murmur of his voice said that part for him.
“Of course,” said Ista, automatically taking his arm. “Let’s go and have a look at the horses.”
Liss followed, as expected, but she too had heard Illvin’s tone, and she was not a slow learner. She busied herself fussing over her own horse and stayed carefully out of earshot.
“Determined Ista,” said Illvin, still in that low voice that resonated deep in her bones. “How are you feeling, after riding all day?” One bronzed finger skated over the back of her hand where it rested in the crook of his left elbow. She gave a little shiver. His eyes darkened.
She grinned up at him. “I feel quite well, thank you.” Her voice came out slightly breathless. “No saddle-sores this time.”
“In that case,” he said, leaning down so that his breath tickled her ear, and she shivered again, “perhaps once it is fully dark, I could slip, ever so quietly, into your tent?”
Ista considered his words.
“No,” she said, slowly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
There was a flash of disappointment in Illvin’s dark eyes, but he found a smile right away and patted her hand almost avuncularly. “Of course,” he said. “It has been a long day, and-there are so many people here that someone might see, even if we were careful.”
“That’s just it,” said Ista, pulling her hand from his arm so that she could turn to face him squarely. “Let them see. I don’t want us to be sneaking around in the dark.” She smiled, and reached out again to catch his hand in hers, drawing circles on his palm with her thumb. “I think we should simply put two camp beds in my tent from the start. Very close together.”
Illvin’s eyes were beginning to crinkle at the corners, and his fingers tightened around hers. “Headstrong Ista. Are you certain you won’t mind if people talk?”
Ista sighed. “People have always talked. I have been poor Ista, and naive Ista, and traitorous Ista, and finally mad Ista. Now I have my wits about me again, and a calling to pursue. I’m not going to let a little talk stand between me and what I want.” She tilted her head and let a smile curve her lips. “Besides, I think you’ll find that a mere court scandal on the level of a royal widow taking a lover doesn’t hold anyone’s attention for very long at all. Especially if we act as though we think that what we are doing is perfectly normal.”
“Ah,” said Illvin. The glint was back in his eye, the one that started the butterflies dancing in her stomach. “So, no sneaking around in the dark.”
“It’s my new philosophy,” said Ista, stepping close to Illvin and taking his arm once more. “I say we begin as we mean to go on.”
~ * ~
Somewhat later, the camp was dark and still, except for the occasional snort of a horse or the distant challenge of one of the perimeter guards. Ista’s tent held two folding camp beds now, but at the moment she and Illvin lay tangled together in just one.
Illvin’s lips trailed deliciously over Ista’s shoulder.
“Mmmm,” she said, sleepily.
“Mmmm,” Illvin echoed, against her skin. “If this is how we mean to go on, I find myself looking forward to it with a certain eagerness.”
Ista laughed, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.
~ fin ~
[ To Chalion/Vorkosigan story index ]
.
As We Mean to Go On
(1805 words | PG-13 for innuendo | post-Paladin of Souls)
As Ista leads her traveling court into Jokona with the first wave of Chalionese troops, she must decide how to go about filling her new roles. Several of them.
[Also at AO3]
As We Mean to Go On
It took them longer than Ista had expected to run into their first company of Jokonan soldiers.
It was a small company, only a dozen men, appearing over the crest of a hill in the early evening. A dozen men should have been no match at all for the Chalionese troops, but these Jokonans came riding straight at them, urged on by their commander, who had an oddly smug smile on his face.
The commander’s behavior would have made Ista suspicious even if she hadn’t seen the violet light of the demon that rode him.
Nodding sharply to Illvin and dy Cabon, she slapped her reins to urge her own Demon forward, up to the head of the Chalionese column where Chancellor dy Cazaril and Marshal dy Palliar rode.
Dy Cazaril was watching for her. “Have we found a sorcerer already?”
“We have,” said Ista. “Shall I go ahead and, um, remove the demon directly?”
Dy Cazaril’s lips quirked at her circumspect phrasing. He knew what metaphor the Bastard had given her for demon removal. He also knew that she had decided to refrain from talk of eating demons around those who might be less familiar with the ways of the gods.
“What will happen next if you do?” asked dy Palliar.
“Chaos and confusion, most likely.” Ista met his gaze levelly. “The commander may lose his wits, and if he does, his men will surely turn tail and flee from our superior numbers. Or the commander may order a retreat himself.”
Dy Palliar frowned. “Then perhaps we should let them get closer, so that we can capture them before they escape to warn others of our advance.”
“If we do that, we risk letting them get close enough to carry out whatever uncanny plan the commander has in mind.” Ista peered at the approaching soldiers. They were already plenty close enough for the demon’s magic to affect them if the commander chose to use it.
Dy Palliar shot a glance at dy Cazaril, but the chancellor gazed blandly back, waiting for his marshal to make the decision.
“All right,” said dy Palliar. “We can’t possibly keep our progress through Jokona secret for much longer, anyhow, and one of the other advancing forces may be seen even if ours is not. Go ahead, if you please, Royina.”
Ista nodded and turned away, concentrating on the demon. She reached out with her spirit hands and caught up the violet fire. The commander struggled to hold onto it, but he wasn’t very strong, and she was able to leave most of his own soul intact when she pulled the demon away and ate it.
Well done, faithful Ista, came the echo of a Voice in her head, and the demon was gone from the world.
The Jokonan commander slumped in his saddle and nearly slid off, but then he straightened and barked an order to his men. As one, they wheeled around and began to gallop away.
“Take them!” called dy Palliar, and the Chalionese soldiers launched themselves after the Jokonans, sending a hail of crossbow bolts ahead of their advance.
Ista and her own small company dropped back, staying out of the way. Two of the Jokonans fell from their saddles and lay still, and Ista felt the taking up of their souls (one was actually claimed by the Bastard, which would likely surprise that young Quadrene man’s soul very much). Four others were captured along with their mounts and were brought to the end of the Chalionese column, the first prisoners of dy Palliar’s campaign to take Visping. But half a dozen men, including the commander, galloped away up the road.
“Surely Jokona is in enough disarray that the news of a large advancing Chalionese force will give rise to more disorder, rather than bringing an organized attack down on us,” Ista mused.
“That seems likely,” said dy Cabon, hopefully.
“Unless the Jokonans have more sorcerers handy.” Illvin’s voice was as dry as the sun-baked rocks that lined the road.
“Well,” said Ista, with a certain feeling of satisfaction. “That is why we are here.”
~ * ~
Not long afterward, they stopped to make camp for the night. Dy Palliar set up a heavy rotation of perimeter guards, but he said, and Illvin and dy Cazaril seemed to agree, that it would likely take the Jokonans a few days to pull together any kind of concerted attack force.
“I almost feel that I should be watching the perimeter as well,” said Ista. She and Liss, dy Cabon, dy Hixar, and Illvin were eating their evening meal with the officers. “Especially with Foix still in Cardegoss. I wish Archdivine Mendenal hadn’t insisted he stay there until the saint of the Bastard from Alcarras could be brought in to give him his initial training-we could do with a sorcerer on our side.”
“Umegat thought it was important,” dy Cazaril countered, “and I defer to his judgment in matters pertaining to Temple sorcerers.” The chancellor swallowed some of his well-watered wine and scrutinized her, eyes alight with curiosity and possibly a little envy. “Will you wake, if a demon comes near?”
“I don’t know, yet.” She turned to dy Palliar. “My lord marshal, be sure to tell the men on guard duty that they should send for me if anything odd happens. Or even anything that seems as though it might be odd. No matter what the hour.”
Dy Palliar looked as though he were about to protest, but then he thought better of it. “Yes, Royina, as you say.”
Ista nodded, satisfied. Dy Cazaril, true to form, had understood immediately what Ista’s new calling meant, and how important her presence was in these first stages of the Visping campaign. But she rather suspected that dy Palliar, behind his unfailing courtesy-and despite all the excited tales of lethal demon-magic that he had heard from the exhausted men of Porifors-had been skeptical at first.
Well, perhaps today’s encounter had helped to convince him.
In any case, Ista would continue to make clear how she expected the military officers to work with her. If there was anything she had learned from her mother the Provincara, it was the trick of taking things so adamantly for granted that others began to do so as well.
We shall begin, Ista resolved, as we mean to go on.
~ * ~
After the meal, dy Cazaril escorted Ista and the others back to their small cluster of tents, separate from the officers’ tents but still deep inside the circle of Chalionese troops. “Do you have everything you need?” he asked.
Ista looked around. All their tents were set up, and their horses were picketed nearby. Dy Hixar had even seen to it that enough water had been fetched for washing. “Yes, this is fine. Thank you, Cazaril.”
He bowed, with a smile, and hurried off to attend to his own business.
“Royina?” Illvin stood at her elbow. “Might I have a word?” In private, he did not add, but the low murmur of his voice said that part for him.
“Of course,” said Ista, automatically taking his arm. “Let’s go and have a look at the horses.”
Liss followed, as expected, but she too had heard Illvin’s tone, and she was not a slow learner. She busied herself fussing over her own horse and stayed carefully out of earshot.
“Determined Ista,” said Illvin, still in that low voice that resonated deep in her bones. “How are you feeling, after riding all day?” One bronzed finger skated over the back of her hand where it rested in the crook of his left elbow. She gave a little shiver. His eyes darkened.
She grinned up at him. “I feel quite well, thank you.” Her voice came out slightly breathless. “No saddle-sores this time.”
“In that case,” he said, leaning down so that his breath tickled her ear, and she shivered again, “perhaps once it is fully dark, I could slip, ever so quietly, into your tent?”
Ista considered his words.
“No,” she said, slowly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
There was a flash of disappointment in Illvin’s dark eyes, but he found a smile right away and patted her hand almost avuncularly. “Of course,” he said. “It has been a long day, and-there are so many people here that someone might see, even if we were careful.”
“That’s just it,” said Ista, pulling her hand from his arm so that she could turn to face him squarely. “Let them see. I don’t want us to be sneaking around in the dark.” She smiled, and reached out again to catch his hand in hers, drawing circles on his palm with her thumb. “I think we should simply put two camp beds in my tent from the start. Very close together.”
Illvin’s eyes were beginning to crinkle at the corners, and his fingers tightened around hers. “Headstrong Ista. Are you certain you won’t mind if people talk?”
Ista sighed. “People have always talked. I have been poor Ista, and naive Ista, and traitorous Ista, and finally mad Ista. Now I have my wits about me again, and a calling to pursue. I’m not going to let a little talk stand between me and what I want.” She tilted her head and let a smile curve her lips. “Besides, I think you’ll find that a mere court scandal on the level of a royal widow taking a lover doesn’t hold anyone’s attention for very long at all. Especially if we act as though we think that what we are doing is perfectly normal.”
“Ah,” said Illvin. The glint was back in his eye, the one that started the butterflies dancing in her stomach. “So, no sneaking around in the dark.”
“It’s my new philosophy,” said Ista, stepping close to Illvin and taking his arm once more. “I say we begin as we mean to go on.”
~ * ~
Somewhat later, the camp was dark and still, except for the occasional snort of a horse or the distant challenge of one of the perimeter guards. Ista’s tent held two folding camp beds now, but at the moment she and Illvin lay tangled together in just one.
Illvin’s lips trailed deliciously over Ista’s shoulder.
“Mmmm,” she said, sleepily.
“Mmmm,” Illvin echoed, against her skin. “If this is how we mean to go on, I find myself looking forward to it with a certain eagerness.”
Ista laughed, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.
~ fin ~
[ To Chalion/Vorkosigan story index ]
.