Page 130 of The Infernal Battalion

This turned out to be correct. They simply found a dock that looked like it wouldn’t collapse and they tied up, ignoring the furious protests of the crew of a small fishing boat who had been aiming for the same space. Gorchov exchanged scatological retorts with the fishermen over the rail, apparently in a fine mood, while the sailors dropped the cargo net over the side. The refugees swarmed off, despite the soldiers attempts to keep things orderly. I can’t blame them, Winter thought. I’d want to get the hell away from here, too.

The second ship docked nearby, unleashing a similar tide of desperate humanity. Winter saw Lieutenant Dobraev climbing down the net, hand over hand, and walking along the shore toward their vessel. Alex and Abraham had emerged on deck, looking as bedraggled and hungry as Winter felt. She turned to Gorchov.

“Thank you for all your help, Sergeant.”

He shrugged and scratched his beard in a way that reminded Winter so much of Marcus that she almost laughed. “It’s nothing. I should thank you. That bastard Kollowrath would have kept us there until we died at our posts.” He glanced down at the lieutenant. “I’m glad you could talk some sense into Byr.”

Winter smiled. “Glad I could help.”

Climbing down the cargo net was one more insult to aching muscles, but she managed it well enough. Abraham had more trouble, though Alex swarmed down with the agility of a spider and hopped lightly to the dock. Winter turned to Dobraev as Abraham gingerly dismounted.

“It... might be possible for you to come to the fort,” the lieutenant said. “The colonel may be understanding. And...” He gestured at the three of them, who had nothing more than the clothes on their backs and the saber at Winter’s belt.

“We’ll be all right,” Winter said. She wasn’t at all certain of that, of course, but it was clear that Dobraev didn’t think highly of his chances of explaining them to some Murnskai colonel. No need to make his life any harder.

“If you say so,” he said, relieved. “Thank you, once again. None of us would have survived if not for you.”

Winter nodded silently. You wouldn’t have been in danger if not for me. But she didn’t say it. It might not even be true. The Beast would have come here eventually.

“If you are unable to find a ship,” Dobraev said, “get a message to me at the fort. I will see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thank you,” Winter said. “I will.”

There was an awkward pause. Dobraev looked up at Gorchov, who was leaning on the rail of the ship, then back to Winter. He grinned, straightened, and gave her a crisp salute.

“Division-​General,” he said.

Winter nodded, as she had to so many salutes. Dobraev turned and hurried aboard the ship. Gorchov said something in his ear, putting one big arm around his shoulders, and they both started laughing.

“We made it,” Winter said. She looked at her companions. Abraham was grave, while Alex grinned, eyebrows raised.

“We made it,” the girl agreed. “So, now what?”

*

It turned out that they hadn’t been the only group with the idea of making for Dimiotsk when things went sour. The city was almost as full of refugees as the fortress had been, but there was no garrison to keep things orderly. The smell of the place was overpowering, whatever sanitary systems normally served the city having long since been overwhelmed.

They worked their way inland from the river docks, angling in the general direction of the deep​water harbor. The streets were crowded, a dense mass of people pushed to the center of the crooked alleys by the crude shelters against the walls of every building. More people were sleeping in the open, huddled under blankets or cloaks. At the intersections, hawkers called out, drawing queues for roast potatoes or fresh bread, but the prices seemed shockingly high, all the more so when Winter remembered that the Murnskai imperial was roughly two and a half Vordanai eagles.

“There must be inns, right?” Alex said, glancing around at the press of desperate humanity. “Any harbor has to have somewhere for people to stay and eat.”

“I don’t think we can afford an inn,” Winter said. “Actually, I’m not sure we can afford anything. If I sell my saber, maybe—”

Alex tossed a small purse in Winter’s direction, and Winter reflexively snatched it out of the air. It was heavier than it looked, and a brief glance inside showed her the dull gleam of gold. She quickly stuffed it deep in her pocket and drew close to Alex.

“How long have you been hiding that? Since the Mountain?”

“About five minutes. And there’s more where that came from.” Alex looked back at Winter over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. “Greatest thief in the world, remember? Cutting a purse isn’t exactly a challenge.”

“But...” Winter looked around at the desperate refugees and lowered her voice. “You can’t steal from these people.”

Abraham, pulling up next to them, nodded vigorously.

“Of course not,” Alex said. “They haven’t got any money! I got that off the angry-​looking merchant with the bodyguards two streets back.”

“I’m not...” Winter took a breath, catching the whiff of roast potato, and found her hunger rapidly overcoming her moral qualms. “Just don’t steal from anyone who doesn’t look like they can afford it, all right?”

Alex grinned. “Think of it as their contribution to saving the world from the Beast.”