Page 202 of The Infernal Battalion

“Whatever my... contribution, my name—​my body—​were used to do terrible things.” Janus shook his head. “I have had my chance at history, Marcus. The time has come for me to sink into well-​deserved obscurity.”

“And Mya?” Marcus said quietly. “Are you giving up?”

There was another pause.

“I used to believe in destiny,” Janus said. “It was so obvious, when you looked at her. So clear. And then...”

“You’ve changed your mind?”

“Perhaps. Maybe things are only obvious in hindsight. When I think how much had to go just right in order for us to reach this moment—​how easily it could have gone another way...” He smiled again. “Maybe there is no destiny. Maybe things just happen and nobody knows why and none of it means anything. Or maybe the pattern is more complicated than I understood. Either way, I don’t think it needs my help.”

“So what are you going to do?” Marcus said. “Find some king who needs a general?”

“I think not. I’m done with campaigns and armies, Marcus.” Janus settled back in his chaise. “I’ll write, I imagine. There are quite a few monographs I’ve composed over the years that need to be set down properly. And the wildlife of the Southern Kingdoms is vastly underexplored. A real gap in the literature. I’ll be certain to send back my findings.”

Was there a sardonic grin there, at the corner of Janus’ lip? Marcus couldn’t be sure. The big gray eyes seemed so open, but they never truly showed what thoughts lay beneath.

Slowly, Marcus got to his feet. He straightened up and saluted one last time.

“Thank you, sir. For everything.” He paused. “It’s been an honor.”

“Likewise, Marcus,” Janus said. “More than you can imagine.”

RAESINIA

Raesinia found Winter on the roof walk that faced the front of the palace, looking south toward Vordan City. This would once have been the most magnificent view in Vordan, taking in the vast sweep of Ohnlei’s gardens, the stately facades of the Ministry buildings, and the grand drive with its fountains. Now the fountains were turned off and the gardens were a torn-up mess, thanks to the army’s long stay. The Ministry buildings still stood, except for the burned-​out Cobweb, but though the sun had barely set, most of the windows were dark. It had been less than a week since the Battle of Bear Ridge, and the functionaries who made the wheels of bureaucracy turn were understandably still nervous.

Winter wore her uniform, stitched and cleaned, with her sword on her hip. She bore little resemblance to the dirty, gory mess cavalry patrols had brought in, covered in blood, one arm out of joint. Alex had been little better, one leg and several ribs broken, coughing blood. It had been Abraham who’d tended to them both, once he’d recovered enough of his own strength, and his power had once again worked miracles.

But not for Sothe. Raesinia swallowed. She didn’t want to think about Sothe.

Winter, leaning on the wrought-​iron railing, turned and bowed as Raesinia came in. Raesinia waved away the formality, slouching against the rail herself. She’d left her guards below, and the two of them were alone, far above the bustling life that was slowly returning to the palace. The sky was dark gray, shading to pink at the western horizon.

“How are you feeling?” Raesinia asked.

“All right,” Winter said. She lifted her arm, as though marveling at the absence of pain. “Thank God for Abraham.”

“He’s good at putting people back together,” Raesinia said. “But how are you feeling?”

“Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Winter said, turning back to the view over the palace grounds. “I know it’s over, but somehow I can’t make myself believe it.”

“I know what you mean,” Raesinia said. “Like any minute someone is going to ride in with news of the next war.”

“We’ve fought the Khandarai, the Murnskai, the Borels, the League, and ourselves, twice,” Winter said. “Who else is left? An invasion from the moon?”

Raesinia grinned, but Winter was shaking her head.

“The hell of it is,” she went on, “all that and we’re back where we started. What did we accomplish?”

“We stopped the Beast. You stopped the Beast. That has to count for something.”

“We let it out in the first place, when we marched on Elysium.” Winter waved south, toward the city. “For the people out there, what’s changed? We didn’t forge a new empire or build a utopia. We buried a lot of young men and women and wore out a lot of boot leather.”

“It may not be a utopia,” Raesinia said, “but I think Vordan is better off. We’ve got the Deputies-​General—”

“—​and what a great help they’ve been—” Winter muttered.

“—​and we’re rid of Orlanko. The Priests of the Black won’t be meddling anymore, or snatching people off to the dungeons under Elysium.” Raesinia looked south, too. The lights of the city were just about visible, a dim glow on the horizon. “And even if they don’t know it, those people are living without a sword hanging over their heads. You did what Karis couldn’t do, Winter.”