a nod toward the Pliunis.
The Pliuni captain's face was now beet-red. "And we will raid, Duke's man, when I say so. Your Duke isn't paying us anything for our help, after all." Again a mutter of agreement from the Pliuni troops. Dorrin frowned.
"If you march with us, you follow our rules," said Arcolin.
"Not yours," sneered the Pliuni. "Your Duke's maybe—if it suits us."
Arcolin was white with rage. Dorrin spoke before he could say anything. "Are you not aware of the Duke's policy on raiding?"
The captain glowered at her. "Oh, he says there's to be none—and that keeps the peasants quiet—but of course he knows we must do some."
"Perhaps you'd like to hear the Duke's opinion in person?" Arcolin's voice was cold.
"Perhaps I'd like you to mind your own business!" The Pliuni captain glanced back at his men. "You think you're so special, Captain—just because you mercenaries fight for money instead of honor—" At the word, Arcolin's hand signal passed to the sergeants. Every blade in the cohort slipped from its sheath. Paks saw the Pliuni captain's eyes slide sideways to see what had happened. Arcolin's eyes never moved.
"Captain Pont, ask the Duke to attend us, please," said Arcolin. Pont nodded, and legged his horse to a hard gallop toward the front of the column. Paks grinned as she saw the Pliuni captain's shoulders twitch. Men in the rear Pliuni ranks glanced back at Arcolin's cohort, paling as they saw the naked blades. Their own hands twitched; those who had taken bundles from the houses dropped them.
"You can't attack us," began the Pliuni captain. "We're your allies. g