Carnifex

7/2/468 AC, Quarters Number Two, Isla Real

Artemisia thought her uncle was possibly the second-most manly man she had ever seen. The first was . . .

"Uncle Xavier, could we ask Sergeant Major McNamara over to dinner? I saw him visiting Lourdes Carrera today and he looked extremely sad and lonely."

Jimenez was no fool. His niece's tastes in men had proven decidedly odd over the years. And she'd never shown the slightest interest in any of the young men who sniffed about the balconies so regularly. Jimenez folded his daily paper and put it aside.

After a sigh he said, "Arti, Mac's a fine man, but he's old enough to be your father . . . maybe your grandfather, if he was precocious."

Am I that obvious? Or am I only that obvious to my older male relations?

"I don't care, Uncle. Ever since I saw him at the hippodrome, I've been fascinated."

"He's not rich, Arti, though I have no doubt that Patricio would fix that if he ever saw a reason to, or Mac asked. And he is old, nearly sixty. There's no guarantee he could ever father children on you."

Artemisia sniffed, pointedly. "Trust me, Uncle; women can tell. He could still father a score of children. Give him ten women and he could father two hundred. Uncle, the Sergeant Major is a man."

Jimenez smiled at his niece. "Well . . . yes, I suppose he is. But what makes you think he might be, or even could be, interested in you?"

Artemisia didn't have to blossom for her uncle. A simply tilt of the head and half pirouette sufficed.

"Well," the legate conceded, pulling on one ear ruefully. "I suppose he could be at that."

Jimenez's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Young lady, you go hurting McNamara's feelings and you will find you are not too old, not too high and mighty, to find your old uncle pulling you over his knee and paddling you so that you cannot sit for a month."

Horrified, the niece shook her head. "Hurt him, Uncle? No . . . oh, nonono. I'm serious about this one. I intend to make him the happiest man in the world. Don't you see? He just . . . smells right. He's the right one. I swear; I'll never hurt him."

Still looking suspicious, Jimenez had to concede that Arti seemed sincere enough. "Very well then. You can hunt him, my little Diana. Though I foresee much wailing and gnashing of teeth from the Bachelor Officers' Quarters."

"Will you help, Xavier?"

"Brazen hussy. What is it with you and older men?"

"They're real men, Uncle Xavier, not boys. Besides, I was in love with you when I was a little girl and I guess that just typecast me for impossibly old men."

Slightly embarrassed, Jimenez thought about that, his head bobbing from side to side. At length, he had to agree. God knows, he'd been not nearly as much of a man at age twenty-five.

"Well . . . I suppose that my own sergeant major could use a little more advice . . . and perhaps I could, as well. And then there's the whole . . . well, never mind. I suppose I have been underutilizing this most impressive training asset. Niece, please invite Sergeant Major McNamara, Sergeant Major Escobedo and his wife, and Legate Guttierez and his wife to dinner, next . . . mmm . . . let's say next Friday. Mess dress? Yes, that will give us an opportunity to show off your not unimpressive . . . assets and give you a chance to see just how impressive Sergeant Major Mac can be in full regalia."

With a yelp of joy—with her uncle on her side, poor McNamara didn't stand a chance—Artemisia launched herself to wrap her arms around Xavier and squeeze him tight enough to collapse lungs. After a moment she backed up and looked at him seriously.

"Xavier," she said. "If you had not been my uncle, I would have gone after you."