The Price Paid – Chapter 2— A Dish Best Served Cold

Gentle Reader,

This is the story of what happened between the laying down of arms and the picking up of passengers. This is the second chapter of the story started in Lost Kin. It grew out of that story and you should read that first or this will make little sense, since it starts in the middle of a conversation begun in that chapter. I have several other chapters written and hope to be able to post installments in a regular and timely fashion.

Once again I must thank Archer for his shiny beta and his uniformly good critiques of my work. Any failings or mistakes are mine. If anyone has any comments, criticisms or suggestions I would be delighted to hear them.

Chinese Glossary appears at the end.

CHAPTER TWO—A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

PRESENT DAY

Most everybody in camp assumed they were lovers. They didn’t enlighten anybody ‘cause it saved them both from attentions neither was particularly interested in receiving. When they first arrived it was mid-winter, there were no huts, no heat and no privacy. They had shared a bedroll, his blanket underneath, hers on top, and huddled together for warmth. Nothing passionate about it, except the passionate desire not to freeze to death, and Mal was just glad Zoe didn’t snore, much. When their own chaplain tried to talk to him about the immorality of the situation he laughed mirthlessly and pointed out that any god who let thousands of innocent soldiers die hellishly after the surrender was in no position to question his morals in choosing who to bed. After that conversation the assumption was set in stone, even after the huts went up and they went back to sleeping in separate bunks if not separate rooms.

Now Mal looked at Zoe across the table. The news was bad but not unexpected and it was the chaplain’s remark about making her an honest woman (as if Zoe would have any need of that if the were grappling) which tuned his mind in the