Tara sat with her back to the trunk of a tree, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and played idly with a dagger. They had finally reached their destination; the caravan they were planning on robbing was due the next day. Drea had called a meeting of her inner circle to plan the heist. The redhead leaned back and regarded the three men who sat by the fire with idle interest. One of them she recognized as having been with the young man whose head she'd taken a few days before; he was shooting her veiled glances every now and then, and his eyes held unmistakable respect. The other two were more or less unknown to her. All three were grizzled veteran fighters, olive-skinned Argonians with the hard muscles that came from long years of training. Tara thought she recognized one of them from the years she had fought under Vasilus, but she didn't know the man's name.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Drea. The woman stumped over to the fire and sat down. Her dark eyes swept the men, met Tara's for a moment, and then moved on. "All right," Drea said at length, once the silence had stretched out for a moment or two. "We've got a fight to plan out, boys." She spread out a scrap of parchment on the top of a stump and tapped it with her finger. "This here's a map of the gully where we'll want to hit 'em. Here's where it narrows. We've got eleven fighters – let's figure out where to put everyone."
The plans began to take shape. Tara sat apart, watching through half-closed eyes. To all appearances, she seemed bored to death. Her sharp hearing, however, missed nothing. She took careful note of which men made the best strategic suggestions, and of their names.
Hadrien – the largest of the bunch, but not stupid by any stretch. Argus – lighter tan than the others, doesn't seem that clever about strategy, but I bet he's a wicked fighter. Leander – the best strategic mind of the three.
Tara yawned and slipped her dagger back into its sheath.
Drea's dark eyes rose from the map and rested on the redheaded woman. "Do you have anything to add, Tara?" she asked. "You've been pretty quiet."
Silence fell as the three men turned to look at the Gael. Tara gave a leisurely stretch and rose to her feet. "Yes. Actually, I do." She moved over to the map and looked down at it in silence for a moment. There were a number of small pebbles on it, to indicate the positions of their fighters and of the caravan. Tara rested her finger to the left of the inked lines that indicated the narrowest point of the ravine. "I scouted out the area before I came here," she said diffidently. "You folks are wanting to put our fighters on this side, and our three archers on the other; it won't work. The footing on this side of the gully's really iffy – lots of loose stones and soil. Anyone on foot's going to slip and fall, and we need to strike quickly if we want to keep the element of surprise." She tapped the other side of the ravine. "Put our footsoldiers there. Swap them. The archers can stay up high, so they don't have to worry about slipping down the embankment."
There was a pause. Drea's lips curved upward just a bit. "That's a great point," she said. "I think you're right." She glanced at the three men. "Any objections to implementing that?" There was silence, and Drea deftly swapped the stones. Then she raised her eyes to the redhead's again. "We've already got systems we use to fight," she said. "Some of the boys go straight up the middle of the enemy – some are better at hitting the flanks. Where do you fit, Tara?"
Tara gave a quiet smile. She was well aware that Drea already knew the answer to this question.
This one's for the benefit of "the boys," I suppose.
"I go straight at the enemy," she said calmly. "And if there's any of them left by the time the rest of you get there, you're welcome to them." She patted the hilt of her sword. "I mostly use this, although I can use a javelin if I have one."
"We'll have to find you one tomorrow." Drea scratched her nose. "I bet some of those fellows guarding the gold will have them."
"I bet they will." A surge of adrenaline made Tara's heart beat faster, and she grinned with wicked anticipation. "Maybe I'll borrow a couple then." Drea's eyes met hers, with just a faint twinkle.
Leander cleared his throat, and Tara's attention turned to him. He had very broad shoulders and lean hips, and his features were chiseled. A white scar ran down the length of his left cheek, from ear to chin – he was, nevertheless, a handsome man. "I'm not normally one to question your decisions, Drea," he said slowly. "You've led us well these two years, and I've had nothing to complain of, but..." His eyes rested doubtfully on Tara. "If half the stories about this Gael are true, and if what I saw a couple of nights ago means anything, I don't know if having her with us is such a good idea."
Drea's brows lifted just a touch. "Tara's one of the best bloody fighters in this country, and probably in the world," she said coolly. "Archelaus shot his mouth off and attacked someone who outranked and outclassed him, and he paid for it with his head. I don't see that Tara did anything much worse than what I would have done if he'd pulled that stunt with me."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Aye, maybe," he said grudgingly. "But all the same..."
The redheaded warrior thumped her fist down on the stump just hard enough to make the group jump. Her cold brown eyes caught and held his. "I don't kill without reason," she said evenly. "If you're my ally and under my command, you have nothing to fear from me so long as you shut up and follow orders. I don't think that's unreasonable."
"No," Leander allowed. He still looked a bit doubtful. "I guess not."
Tara nodded shortly. "Other than that..." She looked up at the smaller woman. "Drea's in charge. I'll follow her lead, just like the rest of you."
Drea gave a faint smirk and turned her gaze back on the map. "All right, then. On that note, I think this meeting's over. Unless any of you have something you'd like to add?" There was silence. Drea's eyes moved pointedly to Leander's, and he shook his head. "Good." The dark-skinned woman leaned back, smiled, and shrugged. "Go off and get some rest, then, boys. Tomorrow's the big day." The men headed to their tents. Tara found Drea's dark eyes resting on her; the smaller woman seemed amused. "You follow my lead, do you, Terror?"
"Sure. Unless you do something incredibly stupid." Tara gave a quiet smile. "And unless things have changed a lot in the past couple of years, you're not a stupid woman."
"Hope not," Drea said, her eyes twinkling. "You never know, though. I have taken a few hits to the head in my time." She rose and stretched. "I'm going over to Hadrien's tent. A few of us are playing a round or two of cards before we all hit the hay. You want to come?"
Tara shook her head firmly. "Nope." She got up and brushed the dirt off her clothes.
The smaller warrior shook her head and smirked. "Still the same old antisocial bear," she said. "All right, then. You go and cuddle with the Pony by yourself if you want. I'm playing some cards."
This made Tara pause. She turned to look at Drea and raised a brow. "The pony?"
Drea laughed. "Oh, that's right. You probably wouldn't have heard that yet. Hadrien's servant, Bernice, started calling your little Epona that yesterday. Pony." She grinned. "It kind of suits her, don't you think?"
