Page 100 of The Infernal Battalion

“You came over the wall?” Dobraev said. “Just like that?”

“Alex is a thief,” Winter said.

“The greatest thief in the world, actually,” Alex said, cracking her knuckles. “This wasn’t exactly a challenge.”

“And you?” Gorchov said to Abraham. “I suppose you’re the world’s greatest lover?”

“I’m a healer,” Abraham said. “And... a priest, of a sort.”

“A thief, a priest, and... whatever you are,” Gorchov said, looking back to Winter. “You come out of the wilderness with a mad warning, and you want us to—​what?”

“Get everyone on the ships,” Winter said. “Invite my Haeta friends inside as well. Get us all downriver and away from the crazy bastards behind us.”

“Madness,” Gorchov said. “We’d have to load the ships to the rails, and there’d be no room for supplies. We’d have to leave our guns, ammunition, everything.”

“You’d be alive,” Winter said. “Which is more than I can say for you if you stay here.”

“You have to understand,” Dobraev said contemplatively, “that this is no small thing you’re asking.”

“I understand,” Winter said. “But you must know no orders are coming. Murnsk is in chaos. I doubt anyone remembers you’re still here.”

“It’s a moot point in any case,” Gorchov said. He turned to the firebox, where the pot had finally begun to boil, and began scooping the hot water into tin cups. “Kollowrath will never listen. Even if he believed there was an army of madmen coming, he’d say it was our duty to defend our posts.”

“You don’t agree, though,” Winter said. “What purpose would it serve for you to die here?”

“It has been suggested,” Dobraev said carefully, “among the common soldiers, that we would be better off moving to Dimiotsk. But the captain has made it clear that he views any such suggestion as mutinous.”

“What if you were in command?” Winter said. “What would you do?”

Time seemed to stretch thin. Gorchov froze, a cup in each hand. Winter watched Dobraev’s face. The young man gave very little away, but she could see the struggle.

“That seems unlikely,” he said eventually.

“If something happened to Kollowrath—” Alex said.

Dobraev turned to her. “I’m not stupid, young lady. Nor am I entirely without honor. I will not sit and listen to you speak of murdering my superior officer, no matter how... misguided he may be.”

“Besides,” Gorchov said, “people here are on edge as it is. If the captain were found dead, this place would go mad.”

Winter closed her eyes and thought hard. She’d read the Vordanai army regulations cover to cover, back when she’d thought they would be important for impersonating a soldier. Since then she’d learned that it was a rare ranker who even glanced at that dusty tome, but some of it had stuck with her.

“There must be circumstances under which Kollowrath would have to hand over command,” she said. “If he were to be incapacitated with illness, say, authority would automatically descend to you as next ranking officer.”

Gorchov finished with the tea and handed Winter a tin cup, almost too hot to touch. She rested it on one knee, still watching the lieutenant.

“If... that were to happen,” Dobraev said, as though the words cost him a great deal, “then I would obviously have to evaluate the strategic situation. Including any intelligence about approaching enemy forces.”

“And, speaking purely hypothetically, would you be willing to grant your protection to a group of Trans-​Batariai?”

“In light of the... tragic incident this morning,” Dobraev said, “I would feel honor bound to offer my assistance.”

“Interesting,” Winter said.

“Hypothetically,” Dobraev said wretchedly. He glanced at Gorchov, who gave a shrug and handed him a tin cup.

Winter took a sip. The tea was really quite good.

*