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‘I ain’t changed nothing! You’re just remembering it wrong, like a typical woman.’
‘I’ve seen you eyeing that Nassaras.’
‘Not that again!’
‘Go on then! Drag her into the barn, tear her clothes off and rut li
ke a damned hare. A fat damned hare! Slap your paws on her big tits. Bite at her neck. Make her groan as you try crawling up inside her—’
‘Abyss take us, woman, let’s go!’
Together they rose and hurried back into the keep.
*
Just inside the entrance, Lord Kagamandra had to quickly step to one side to let the two Wardens past. He paused, watching them rush through the dining hall, and then thump quickly up the stairs.
Trout stepped into view from near the hearth. ‘Not again,’ he muttered.
Kagamandra opened the front door and glanced outside, then shut it again and returned to the dining hall. ‘No blood,’ he said. ‘I mistook those screams.’
‘Numbers went down fast,’ Trout said, shifting where he stood, absently pulling at his stubbly cheeks hard enough to expose the red rims below his dark eyes. ‘Might be they ain’t feeling so crowded any more. It’s been days since we last stumbled on to a chewed-up carcass.’
‘The blind one still survives, and that’s surprising,’ Kagamandra said musingly, as he moved to sit down at the table.
‘More wine, milord?’
‘It’s not even noon.’
‘Aye. More wine?’
Kagamandra eyed the ugly captain. ‘You’d see my mind dulled, made witless, to take the sting from my plans for vengeance. Since when did the fates of Scara Bandaris and Silchas Ruin concern you?’
‘It ain’t them, milord. It’s you. You just got here, and all you been talking about is leaving again. With Silchas in Kharkanas, no doubt, and Scara probably riding with Urusander, you’d end up stuck between two Abyss-damned armies. It’s a simple fact, sir, that they needed to send the hostages somewhere. Remote, out of the way, peaceful even.’
‘Thank you, Trout. You always had a way of reining me in.’
‘Sarcasm ill fits you, milord. Besides, conscience has an ugly face, most times.’ And he smiled to make even more ghastly his visage.
‘Still,’ Kagamandra said, ‘if a war is in the offing, what are we doing here?’
Trout pulled a chair close and slumped down in it. He squinted at the flames of the hearth. From somewhere in the kitchen, there was a shout and pots clanged as Igur Lout’s new assistants once more got underfoot. ‘Aye,’ Trout said. ‘Braphen said as much, too. It’s that damned itch, isn’t it? Takes us all. Riding out, fuck the winter and all that. Just riding out, back into war.’
‘Feeling old, Trout?’ Kagamandra asked quietly.
‘We all are, is my bet, sir. And still …’ He shook his head, half his face twisting into a grin as he glanced at Kagamandra. ‘We could do some damage, hey? I was never much for Urusander’s bleatings, and Hunn Raal’s a pig and I don’t expect that’s changed any. But I wonder, sir, what happens when you find yourself facing Scara Bandaris across that field? Will the pranks continue when it’s life and death on the bloody line?’
‘The notion has occurred to me,’ Kagamandra replied. ‘I cannot say what clout Scara possesses among the high command in the Legion. If I am able, I will speak to him and attempt to dissuade him. This civil war is a bitter legacy of our past triumphs.’
‘Scara’s would be a lone voice,’ Trout said.
‘No. There is another. Captain Sharenas.’
Trout’s gaze narrowed on his lord, and then he nodded, returning his attention to the hearth. ‘Need more wood,’ he said, grunting as he rose. ‘Cold in the bones won’t do, if we’re to ride.’
Kagamandra smiled at his old friend.
Trout paused. ‘What of the Wardens?’
