“I am the commander.”
Though her back would never straighten again, the woman’s eyebrows did. “You.” Her gaze took in Lada’s uniform, but it lingered like a question on Lada’s chest.
Lada resisted the urge to fold her arms over her breasts. “Yes.”
“You are not what I expected.”
With a shrug, Lada said, “I could say the same.”
The woman smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “We are at war. Again. My husband and sons are always called up by our spahi leader to serve. We have unique skills.”
“We?”
“I know as much about gunpowder as any man.”
“And yet you are left behind.” Lada scowled, moving forward to look at the barrels in the wagon. “Does that make you angry?”
“Of course it makes me angry. It leaves me to do the work of my husband and our three sons all by myself.”
“No, I mean you have as much place fighting as they do. They should not leave you behind like you are worthless.”
“Bah. We shoulder a burden for the empire, just as the men do. Who else could keep everything running while soldiers tromp about having pissing contests?”
Lada laughed in spite of herself. “You would not say that in front of me if I were a man.”
“I transport gunpowder and teach fools how to avoid killing themselves with it. I say whatever I want in front of whomever I want.”
Nicolae tripped up to them, nearly dancing in his excitement. “What should we blow up first?” His eyes were bright enough to light gunpowder without a flame.
The woman sighed. “My name is Tohin. Might as well begin introductions, because it looks like I will be spending more time than normal keeping your fools from killing themselves.”
“Tohin, I am glad to have you.” Lada was surprised to feel how sincerely she meant it.
Tohin reminded Lada of her nurse, if Lada’s nurse had had fingertips burned to thick calluses and had been e
xpert in the use of gunpowder for combat. There was a quality there, a directness bordering on blunt hostility, that brought to mind the way her nurse would mutter to herself when she thought no one could hear. There was also a gleam of approval in Tohin’s eyes as she watched Lada command her men that made Lada think of sitting by the fireplace, having her hair brushed.
If only this woman came with a Bogdan, too.
Or a Radu.
After several days training with tiny amounts of gunpowder—how to pack it, how to set a fuse so that there was time to get away before it blew, how to care for it—Lada’s men were ready for a real lesson. They hiked up the side of the mountain and down into a narrow canyon, away from any homesteads. Each man carried a portion of gunpowder, and they took turns lugging a tremendously heavy small cannon. It was work slicked with sweat and punctuated with cursing.
Lada imagined she was climbing to Mehmed’s side to fight next to him. And then she imagined she would be aiming the cannon at his heart instead.
She did not know which scenario made her feel better.
Finally at their destination, they set down the cannon. “I like crossbows more,” Petru said, sulking as he massaged his hands.
Tohin slapped the back of his head. “Think bigger, little idiot.”
The scenario was simple. An army would be coming at them through the canyon. They had to fire as many rounds of cannon shot as they could to disrupt the imaginary soldiers.
Lada knew the impact of the cannon would be more psychological than anything. Artillery light enough to be easily transported would not do much more damage than Petru’s beloved crossbow, but the noise and newness of the cannon could be used as an intimidation tactic to break lines and trigger a retreat.
Still, it was an awful lot of work for relatively little reward. She stood back as Matei and Stefan adjusted the angle of the cannon with Tohin’s guidance. The walls of the canyon were narrow and steep, with minimal cover. If an army was coming down it, there would be nowhere for them to go but forward—into them—or back, only to try again.
Lada looked along the top of the canyon on either side, noting the heavy rocks jutting out. What if there was nowhere to go at all?