Human Company | Page 8

his time about it, rubbing it in like he was more interested in
touching than helping. Slayer and Stoneheart walked around the pit,
kicking the sand smooth and glaring at Redblood's opponent.
No one expected Redblood's marriage to Apogee to go unchallenged.
Someone needed to do it, but not Winifred, not Tallebrand's daughter.
For despite Winifred's habit of hanging about the court and fawning
over Apogee, she could not hide her merchant's heart. The mechanicals
are an expense and of no real use, she claimed. They would not fare
well with her as Mechanic. No one that loved them would cheer for her.
The oil saved them. When the trumpets sounded, the girls stepped into
the ring and right away Winifred feinted to the side and dived for
Redblood's legs. She caught one and started to pull it out from under
Redblood, but her hand slipped on the oily skin. Redblood pulled free
and the girls began circling each other.
The pattern repeated: several times they grappled and one girl or the
other would gain an advantage only to lose it when her opponent pulled
away. Both girls were quick, but Winifred lacked Redblood's
endurance. As Winifred tired, Redblood began to catch her more often
and her escapes became more desperate.
It ended suddenly: Redblood got in close and flipped Winifred over her
hip. Winifred lay in the sand where she fell until Redblood reached
down to pull her to her feet. Only then did Redblood raise her arms into
the air to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd. Then she walked away,
surrounded by friends, one arm still in the air, the other around Apogee.
I stared at the sand until the crowd thinned enough for Littlewolf to
reach me, "What happened?" she asked.

"Redblood won," I said. The mechanicals won. They needed Redblood
and her mechanic's heart.
I sighed. Well, I would just have to find another captain. But there
ought to be rules. Especially when the world needed saving.
#
The farm girls bought sausages wrapped in white bread, and we took
them to a sunny spot on the castle wall. While we ate, Littlewolf
explained how the girl's families would provide a dowry that included
the Bullhead Ranch, fertile land in the lower valley.
"A ranch is fine," I said, "but I'm looking for girls to help me with the
Elevator."
"The Mechanic said we shouldn't encourage you," Littlewolf replied.
"She says that the scholars at Towerhold will deal with it."
"They're not gypsies. What do they know?"
"Well, it's nothing to worry about anyway." She shrugged and popped
the last of her sausage into her mouth.
I nibbled at my sausage. That was the problem -- it seemed so harmless:
a thin thread in the sky. Yet, I knew that the Western Elevator had
destroyed the Femdom and plunged the world into the dark age called
the Troubles. But how?
I wished that I could speak to a real gypsy: someone who knew
something.
#
"We should look at the horses."
"Wait. There's Tiny," I said pointing through a break in the crowd.
Littlewolf took hold of my arm and held me back. "A human?"

"She's my friend." I pulled free and walked over to her.
Tiny was full of news to share. She had found another human girl, a
caravan guard. Bandits had attacked a caravan. They were taking on
extra guards. Her friend had found her a job tending horses. She was
going to Calmwater.
"To the sea? When?" I asked.
"Tomorrow."
"You're lucky. I have to stay here and raise pigs."
Littlewolf objected, "It's honest work."
"But sometimes a boy needs excitement," said a new voice. It belonged
to an olive-skinned girl with dark eyes who had been standing with
Tiny.
I looked her over for signs of being human, but she was too big, too
perfect.
Littlewolf stepped between the stranger and me. "He's with us."
Yellowbird and Shortbull eased closer too.
"Well, it is Fair Day." The stranger's smile flashed clean white teeth.
"I'll fight you then. For an introduction. Archery or wrestling?"
"Wrestling," Shortbull answered.
The stranger was somewhat taller and slimmer than Shortbull, but
when she stripped off her blouse and trousers, I could see that she gave
nothing away in strength. She was slim only because she had no fat at
all. Her bulging muscles stretched her skin so tight that you could see
veins and tendons underneath.
When the girls stepped onto the sand, someone sounded a trumpet and
a crowd gathered around. Shortbull and the stranger wasted no time
feinting and circling; they embraced and stayed locked together in a

contest of raw strength. Except for the quivering of their muscles, you
could have thought them statues carved from stone.
We'll be here forever. The thought made me