Page 14 of The Infernal Battalion

“You really think you can beat him?” Quord’s face twisted. “You think you can take the field against Janus?”

“With any luck I won’t have to,” Marcus said. “But if it comes to it, I’m going to damned well try.” He nodded at the soldiers. “Take him to the palace. The Minister of War will decide what to do with him.” Assuming they eventually pick one.

*

“We appear to have passed the crisis,” Fitz said, when the real council convened an hour later. “The Sixth Division has ceased its preparations, and guards have been posted.”

“Quord couldn’t have acted alone,” de Manzet said. He was a polite, balding man in his forties, an old-​line royal officer who’d maintained his position by quiet competence and keeping his head down. “At the very least, his colonels should have informed the column-​general what was going on.”

“Let’s say that I’m choosing to believe it was just Quord. His men might have thought his plans were authorized,” Marcus said. “Regardless, I’m not going to convict anyone for following reasonable orders from their superior. In the end there was no harm done.”

“Except to morale,” grumbled Give-Em-Hell. As always, the cavalry commander looked out of place when not on horseback. More properly Division-​General Henry Stokes, he had a slight frame and wispy hair that belied a fiery temper and a boundless appetite for action that had made his nickname nearly universal. “This kind of finger-​pointing always brings everyone down. They’re looking over their shoulders when they should be facing toward the enemy.”

“We haven’t got an enemy yet.” This was from Colonel Vahkerson, the Preacher, who’d gotten his nickname from his conspicuous faith. In Khandar, he’d inscribed every one of his cannon with verses from the Wisdoms, insisting that it improved their accuracy. “And I pray to God that we still won’t. Bad enough that good Karisai fight one another, but Vordanai fighting among themselves is an even greater tragedy.”

“Agreed,” Marcus said.

“Then you don’t plan to march?” Val said, a touch too eagerly.

“I plan,” Marcus said, “to do whatever the queen and the Deputies-​General ask me to do. As should all of you. That’s what being loyal means. We don’t decide for ourselves what’s best for the country.”

“How many of these men will die if you lead them against Janus?” Quord’s question rattled through his mind, no matter how he tried to ignore it. So many of his friends were gone already. Adrecht and Jen Alhundt, twin betrayals that had shaken him to the core. Andy and Hayver, his eager young assistants. Stalwart, dependable Ihernglass. Mor, buried in some military prison.

And further back. His parents, burned in their home on the orders of the arch-​traitor Duke Orlanko. And his sister, Ellie, who Sothe had told him could be still alive, somewhere—

No. Marcus pulled up short, as though at the edge of an abyss. I’m not thinking about Ellie.

He’d been quiet too long. They were all looking at him: a guarded, curious stare from de Manzet, worry from Val, genuine sympathy from the Preacher, Fitz as straight-​faced as ever. Every one of them could have done what Quord did. But they’ve put their faith in me, as always. Better not to let them wonder if that was a bad idea.

He cleared his throat. “For the moment, we need to wait on events. I want order kept in the camps, no matter what news trickles in. Keep things as normal as possible, but no large meetings and no passes to the city. Curfew is sundown, and spread the word that I’m taking it seriously. The days when we could afford to go easy on people who skirt the rules just ended.” Marcus looked at Give-Em-Hell. “I’m going to be leaning on you for a lot of this. Are your troopers up for stopping fights instead of starting them?”

“It’s not our preferred trade,” Give-Em-Hell said with a grin, “but we can manage.”

“If I might make a request,” Fitz said, “I think special care should be taken with the men of my First Regiment. The Old Colonials are... stubborn. I don’t think they’d go as far as treason, but brawling is a distinct possibility if there’s a disagreement. It’d be better if there were outsiders around to keep the peace.”

“Noted. Anything else?”

“The Second,” de Manzet said. “They still don’t have a commander.”

“Ihernglass is officially only missing.”

De Manzet shrugged. “Be that as it may, someone is going to have to take charge.”

“Right now, Colonel Cytomandiclea is in acting command, with the assistance of Colonel Giforte,” Fitz said. “But it’s an informal arrangement.”

“That’s tricky,” Val said. “You can’t just put someone new in charge. Not with their... special circumstances.”

“I’m sure the Second Division would obey whichever commander the Ministry sees fit to appoint,” Marcus said loudly. “But yes, I agree that there might be complications for morale. I’ll speak to the queen about it.”

“While you’re at it,” de Manzet said, “try to find out if we’re at war or not.”

3

Winter

Thok. Scrape. Tug. Thok. Scrape. Tug.

The sky overhead was a brilliant, crystalline blue, unmarred by clouds. The mountain peaks in every direction were capped with snow, but the sun beat down on her back with a pleasant warmth.