"We need a well bred soft eastern noblewoman about as much as we need to be dragged behind our horses for a day," Phaedra snarled. The whole idea was preposterous, under normal circumstances the Satrap might or might not have moved energetically against them, but with his daughter missing he would come at them with everything he had. The sensible thing to do would have been to ransom the girl for safe passage back to the coast. Unfortunately in war, as in life, the sensible thing often wasn't what happened. The faces of the Miravet guarding the woman were already hardening. Phaedra held up her hands in supplication. It was an item of custom, almost religious tradition that any woman could approach a Saleri and enlist. Not infrequently the lure of escaping jealous husbands or controlling fathers was a much a motivator as marshal zeal. The Saleri would not react well if word got out that Phaedra had denied a woman a chance to serve, even this woman.

"Phoebe, your Syndi is short a member is it not?" she demanded. The woman's face, previously hard went blank. It was one thing to advocate for a tradition, it was quite another to have it come back and bite you in the ass. A Syndi was responsible for a girls training as well as for seeing to her funeral rites and the distribution of her property.

"Fine she is your problem, get rid of her finery and find her some armor. I expect you to work her as hard as any recruit, harder you hear me?" Phaedra snapped.

"I want the servants kept underguard, she is no bloody officer in this Saleri," the commander concluded. Tachmeena came to her feet with the insulted dignity of royalty.

"These servants are under my protection they..." The noble Atvari spun to the ground as Phoebe clouted her across the jaw. The blow was open palmed but it had been no theatrical tap. One of the servants tried to rush to her mistress' side but another Miravet, Khloe, punched her in the chest then kicked her feet from under her.

"Shut your mouth when First is speaking Tac," Phoebe admonished, grabbing the girl by the arm and hauling her to her feet.

"Tac," Phaedra replied, turning the word over in her mouth, "I like it."

"Any time you want to quit Tac, you just say the word and we will be happy to return you to your father," Phaedra told the noblewoman. Tachmeena was wiping tears from her eyes with the hand that Phoebe wasn't holding.

"Yes... First?" the Atvari mumbled. Phaedra nodded then turned her back on the girl.

"Work her hard Phoebe, hard as the Huntress' hand, and cut her some wood."