if you've known him — Stephi? — so long. Only, that's what really happened, sir, no matter what Korryn says."
"If it were only your word against Korryn's — " Stammel paused and stretched, then shifted his weight to the other leg. "Paks have you bedded anyone here?"
"No, sir."
"You've been asked, surely?"
"Yes, sir, but I haven't. I don't want to. And I asked Maia — "
"Maia?"
"The quartermaster's assistant. I asked her if I had to, and she said no, but not to make a fuss about being asked, like I might at home."
"Has Korryn bothered you about it?" Paks began to tremble, remembering Korryn's constant teasing, taunting attempts to force her into bed with him. "He's asked me," she whispered.
"Paks, look at me." She looked up. "Has he done more than ask?"
"He - he has sometimes."
"Why didn't you say something to me or Bosk?"
Paks shook her head. "I thought I wasn't supposed to — to make a fuss. I thought I was supposed to take care of it — "
"You aren't supposed to act like a new wench in an alehouse, no. But no fighter should have to put up with that sort of thing from a companion. When you refuse, they're supposed to drop it; there's plenty enough that are willing. I wish I'd known; we'd have put a stop to that." He paused briefly. "Are you a sisli?"
"I - I don't know what that is. He — the corporal — asked me that too."
"Like Barranyi and Natzlin in Kefer's unit. A woman who beds women. Are you?"
"No, sir. Not that I know of. Does it matter?"
"Not really." Stammel shifted his weight again and sighed. "Paks, I want to believe you. You've been a good recruit so far. But I just don't know — and even if I believe you, there's the captain. Sejek is — umph. You're in more trouble than most people find in a whole enlistment."
Paks felt tears sting her eyes. It was hopeless. If Stammel still thought she could be lying, no one else would believe her. She thought briefly of Saben, who had left before the fight broke out — why hadn't he stayed? Her belly turned again, and she heaved the water she'd drunk into the bucket. She hurt all over, and tomorrow could only be worse. A sob shook her body, then another one. She tried to choke them back.
"Wishing you were back on the farm, Paks?" Stammel's voice was almost gentle.
Her head came up in surprise. "No, sir. I just wish - I wish it hadn't happened, or that you'd been there to see it all."
"Still want to be a soldier, even after this?"
"Of course! It's what I've always wanted, but - but if everyone thinks I'm lying— I'll never have the chance." She retched again.
"Paks, is all this heaving from being in trouble, or what?"
"I - I think it's from being hit, here — " She gestured at her midriff. "It hurts there."
"I thought you just had a black eye and a bloody nose — let's see, can you sit up straighter?" Stammel moved away from the light to her side. "No, keep looking toward the light. Hmm — that whole side of your face is swollen. I can't even see your eyelashes. Your nose is broken, certainly." He touched the swelling very gently. Paks winced. "That
could
be from more than one blow. Do your ears ring?"
"Yes, sir — but it comes and goes."
"What's this gash on your shoulder? He didn't have a blade, did he?"
"No. I think that was the belt buckle. My father's used to do that."
"I wish this torchlight was brighter and steadier," grumbled Stammel. "Lift your chin. Looks like your throat is bruised, too. Does it hurt to breathe?"
"Just a little."
"Well, where else are you hurt?"
"In - in front. It all hurts. And my legs."
"Stand up, then. I'll want a look at the damage."
Paksenarrion tried to stand, but her legs had stiffened after hours of sitting on the cold stone. At first she could not move at all, but when Stammel gave her an arm to pull up on, she staggered up, still unable to straighten. She could not repress a short cry of pain.
"Here — lean against the wall if you aren't steady." Stammel swung her around and braced her