There had been bad blood between these two for a long time; it was an
enmity that went back to a time even before the expedition had begun.
The two men stood there for a long moment, the light from the distant
fire flickering uncertainly against their bodies.
The young officer who had removed his armor had not been foolish enough
to remove his weapons too; no sane man did that in hostile territory.
His hand went to the haft of the blade at his side.
"If you say a single word--"
Instinctively, the other dropped his hand to his own sword.
"Stop! Both of you!"
And stop they did; no one could mistake the crackling authority in that
voice. The commander, unseen in the moving, dim light, had been circling
the periphery of the camp, to make sure that all was well. He strode
toward the two younger men, who stood silently, shocked into immobility.
The commander's sword was already in his hand.
"I'll spit the first man that draws a blade," he snapped.
His keen eyes took in the situation at a glance.
"Lieutenant, what are you doing out of armor?"
"It was hot, sir, and I--"
"Shut up!" The commander's eyes were dangerous. "An asinine statement
like that isn't even worth listening to! Get that armor back on!
_Move!_"
He was standing approximately between the two men, who had been four or
five yards apart. When the cowed young officer took a step or two back
toward his tent, the commander turned toward the other officer. "And as
for you, if--"
He was cut off by the yell of the unarmored man, followed by the sound
of his blade singing from its sheath.
The commander leaped backwards and spun, his own sword at the ready, his
body settling into a swordsman's crouch.
But the young officer was not drawing against his superior. He was
hacking at something ropy and writhing that squirmed on the ground as
the lieutenant's blade bit into it. Within seconds, the serpentine thing
gave a convulsive shudder and died.
The lieutenant stepped back clumsily, his eyes glazing in the flickering
light. "Dropped from th' tree," he said thickly. "Bit me."
His hand moved to a dark spot on his chest, but it never reached its
goal. The lieutenant collapsed, crumpling to the ground.
The commander walked over, slammed the heel of his heavy boot hard down
on the head of the snaky thing, crushing it. Then he returned his blade
to its sheath, knelt down by the young man, and turned him over on his
face.
The commander's own face was grim.
By this time, some of the nearby men, attracted by the yell, had come
running. They came to a stop as they saw the tableau before them.
The commander, kneeling beside the corpse, looked up at them. With one
hand, he gestured at the body. "Let this be a lesson to all of you," he
said in a tight voice. "This man died because he took off his armor.
That"--he pointed at the butchered reptile--"thing is full of as deadly
a poison as you'll ever see, and it can move like lightning. _But it
can't bite through steel!_
"Look well at this man and tell the others what you saw. I don't want to
lose another man in this idiotic fashion."
He stood up and gestured.
"Bury him."