to get used to our ways. That's one reason I wanted you to help. Clear enough?"
Paks nodded, though she still felt confused. It was hard to imagine strangers—outsiders—southerners as part of the Company. But she could see that Stammel had no answers, and possibly even more questions, so she asked nothing. He sighed again and led her to a group of about twenty men standing with the captains. Three of them had mail shirts, and four had bronze breastplates. The rest wore leather armor. They were all muscular and looked fit enough. Several of Paks's friends stood nearby: Barra, Vik, and Arñe. Vik raised his expressive eyebrow but said nothing. Stammel turned away, and came back in a few minutes with three more of Paks's cohort. He spoke to Arcolin, who pointed out six of the strangers. They followed Stammel.
"Paks, this is Halek," Stammel said. Halek was several fingers shorter than Paks, with sandy hair and mustache, and pale eyes. Stammel went on. "Halek, she'll show you where to eat and sleep, and what you're expected to do—"
"She?" Halek's tone was derisive. Paks felt a prickle of anger. "What do you think I am, some little boy to take orders from a nursemaid?" Paks clamped her jaw shut. Stammel gave the f