Sheepfarmers Daughter by Elizabeth Moon

nod, his guards tugged, forcing him forward. He could barely keep his feet. Paks looked away, stomach churning. She heard horses' hooves behind the formation, near the gate, muttered voices. Then the hoofbeats moved away, through the gate, and the courtyard was left in silence.
    Captain Valichi looked at them for a long moment. "Some of you," he said with a grim smile, "seem impressed by what you saw — I hope you all are. The Duke will not tolerate anything that jeopardizes the strength of the Company. In a few months you will be depending on each other in battle. Each of you must be worthy of your companions' trust, both on and off the field. If you aren't, we'll get rid of you. If you injure a companion, you'll be punished. It may be that some of you don't have the stomach for army life; if so, speak to your sergeant. We don't want cowards. Sergeant Stammel, assign a detail from your unit to clean up this mess, and I'll want to speak with Paksenarrion. The formation is dismissed."
    In the unit's duty room, a few minutes later, Paks tried to act calm. "Sit down, Paksenarrion," said Captain Valichi. She sat across the desk from him. Her stomach was a solid knot of apprehension. "Have you talked to any of your friends since this happened?"
    "No, sir."
    "Good. Paksenarrion, you have a good record, so far. This is the first trouble you've been in, and from the evidence none of it was your fault. Stammel did say that he thought you should confine your use of strong language to terms you knew the meaning of— though calling someone a jacks—hole full of soured witches milk — " Paks gasped and felt herself reddening; the captain smiled and went on," — is not an excuse for an attack, it can cause trouble. Did you even know that was Pargunese? No? Well, stick to Common or whatever your native language is. Anyway, you're blameless of the brawl itself. Now you've been injured in the Company, though not, we think, permanently. If you wish to leave, you may. We will give you a recommendation, based on your record, and a pass through the Duke's domain, and a small sum to tide you over until you reach home or find other employment. I can suggest several private guard companies that might hire you with our recommendation. You'll be on light duty until you can see out of that eye again: you may have that long to make your decision — unless you are already determined to leave. Are you?"
    "No, sir. I don't want to leave at all." Paks had had a lingering fear that she might be thrown out.
    "You're sure?" Paks nodded. "Well, if you change your mind before you're back to full duty, let me know. I'm glad you want to stay in; I think you'll do well — if you stay out of fights like this. Tell me — do you think Korryn was sufficiently punished?"
    "Yes, sir." Paks could hear the distaste in her own voice.
    "Ah. It bothered you, eh? I see it did. Well, it's supposed to, and if you stay in, you'll see that again — though we all hope not to. Now — about Corporal Stephi. I've agreed, with Sejek, to let him go south for his trial by the Duke. We've kept the scribes busy, and have the witnesses' testimony and the rest written down. We think this will be sufficient, and the Duke won't need to see any of you. We hope. Anyway, Stephi has been quite concerned about you — did Stammel mention it?" Paks nodded; Stammel had told her a lot about Stephi. "He's asked how you were, and he wanted to see you and apologize. He's a good man, really. We're sure that some outside influence — probably magical — affected him that night. But — it's up to you — will you see him before he goes south?"
    "Sir, I — I don't know. Should I?"
    The captain frowned slightly, lacing his hands together. "It would be kind, I think. He can't hurt you now, you know, even if he wanted to. It won't make any difference to his trial, but it would reassure him, to see you up. You don't have to, of course."
    Paks did not want to see Stephi ever again, but as she thought