Intrepid

''As you were, Lieutenant,'' the man said in a voice that needed no bullhorn to carry over the stilled valley.

And the white coat flinched and went to stand beside the speaker. That man took off his gun belt and said something to the younger. The man stood to attention, shouted, ''Yes, sir,'' and saluted. Then he ran off to find someone.

And the senior began walking toward Kris's comm tech.

Leaving her rifle where it lay, Kris stood. She unbelted her holster and dropped it beside Sergeant O'Mally and began her own long walk to the parley field.

As Kris passed even with Gunny's ridgetop position, she could hear the murmurs of the drugged wounded. As she approached her opposite, she came in hearing of his wounded. Many had yet to receive any care.

''Princess Kristine Longknife, I presume,'' said a soldier with salt-and-pepper hair escaping from his helmet. The exhaustion that slowed his movements didn't show up in a bent back or bowed shoulders.

''Colonel Henry Cortez,'' Kris said, and offered her hand.

He shook it firmly. ''I go by Hernando. Should I call you Princess?''

''Not unless you want to start another war,'' Kris risked. ''I go by Kris.''

''And we are stalling,'' the colonel said with a bit of a scowl. ''You sent forward the flag. Say what you have to say?''

''Before I start,'' Kris said, ''nothing I'm planning on saying would require us to start shooting at each other for thirty minutes or an hour. You have many wounded on the field. Would you like to tend to them?''

The colonel turned around, his frown growing deeper as he surveyed the butcher bill. ''I'd like to remove them, but in truth, I don't have all that much gear to tend them with. You may recall where my transport is stuck.''

''I have Marine medics and some of my civilian volunteers are doctors and nurses.''

''You have more medical supplies than you need?'' he said, giving her a questioning glance.

Kris had no idea, but now was no time to stint. She wanted … needed … to get this proud man comfortable with the idea that he was the supplicant and she the one dispensing benefits.

''Yes. We've been defending. Keeping our heads down.''

''If we'd gotten down among you—'' Cortez started.

Kris cut him off. ''But you didn't.''

''But we didn't,'' he echoed. ''Yes, I agree to a cease-fire for two hours. Does that satisfy you?''

''For this valley, or the swamp side of the ridge as well?'' Kris asked. The quiet here was still broken by the sound of gunfire from the other side of the ridge.

''Just how low are your farmers on ammunition?''

''Low on ammunition?'' Kris echoed back a doubting question. The prime minister would have been so proud of his daughter's skill at lying with a straight face.

Colonel Cortez snorted. ''So be it. A cease-fire between all my forces and all those under your command. Can you guarantee the behavior of your irregulars, Lieutenant Longknife?''

''They've followed my orders so far. Corporal, take this flag of truce to the other side of the hill. Tell them what has been agreed upon here. And tell any of our volunteers that they are free to render medical aid to anyone who will accept it.''

''Yes, ma'am,'' the comm tech said. She saluted, then paused. ''Are you comfortable without this parley flag, Your Highness?''

Kris glanced at the colonel.

''I'll roast the eyes of any of those psalm singers who toss a shot our way. But don't worry. I doubt any of them could hit a barn door at this range.''

Kris was tempted to commiserate with him. Certainly, her farmers shot no better. Instead, she said, ''Now who is stalling?''

The colonel nodded. ''And you came out here to tell me …''

''Have you talked with Captain Thorpe recently?'' Kris began.

''No. I've been kind of busy of late, and we weren't exactly on the best of terms after what you did to us this morning.''

''I'd say I was sorry about that, but I don't really feel that way,'' Kris admitted.

''So what about old Captain Bligh?''

Kris thought only the junior officers called him that. ''He's no longer in orbit,'' she said softly.

Cortez shook his head. ''Thorpe would never run from a fight. He'd never desert us,'' the colonel snapped, but his eyes had gone to the sky.

''I have it on good report that rather than fight the Wasp, he broke out of orbit and is running for the nearest jump point.'' That last was a guess, but if Thorpe really was running, why head for the farthest?

''You've talked with your captain?''

''No, my comm tech did.''

''And you just sent her off on an errand. I'd love to see her tell that lie to my face.''

''What did Thorpe's ship have? A pair of eighteen-inchers? I saw those lasers fired. They couldn't have been larger.''

''Yeah, that's all our moneymen would go for.'' The colonel looked like he'd gladly throttle those men, but it was clear, he was slowly being beaten down by the thought that he'd been deserted, left holding the hot potato for this whole affair.