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‘I assumed as much,’ Sharenas said.
The camp was relatively quiet, as the cold bit ever deeper. A few fires were still lit, making lurid islands of orange, yellow and red light. But most tents they passed were dark, tied up, as soldiers slept beneath blankets and, if they were lucky, furs.
‘Have you reported to Lord Urusander?’ Silann asked.
‘I have,’ she replied. ‘It was … extensive. The countryside, Silann, has become a troubled place. Many have died, and few of those were deserving of the violence delivered upon them.’
‘That is always the way, in civil war.’
‘Worse, of course, when the victims knew nothing of any civil war. When, alas, they were the first ones to fall to it. Knowledge and intention, Silann. In these circumstances, we can name them crimes.’
A faint tremor slipped through Silann. ‘Have you … have you compiled details, then?’
‘As best I could,’ Sharenas replied. ‘It was difficult, as not everyone was willing to
speak to me.’ She paused, and they turned down a side avenue, approaching the command tent of Esthala’s cohort; then she said, ‘But I was fortunate to find some who would.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Yes. Gripp Galas, for one. And, of course, young Orfantal.’
Silann’s steps slowed and he half turned to the woman walking beside him. ‘An old man, I’m told, prone to baseless accusations and pointless feuds.’
‘Galas? I think not.’
‘What then do you wish with my wife?’
‘Only what needs doing, Silann. A conversation, just like the one I’m having with you right now.’
When he halted, Sharenas turned back to face him. The hood still hid her features, but he saw the glitter of her eyes. ‘This is an unpleasant conversation, Sharenas,’ he said. ‘I don’t think my wife will welcome your presence, not tonight, in any case.’
‘No, I suspect you’re right in that, Silann. A moment—’ She reached for something under her cloak. ‘I have something for you.’
He caught a flash of blue iron, felt a sharp sting under his chin, and then it seemed that everything simply drained away.
Blinking, he found himself lying on the ground, with Sharenas bent over him.
It was all … strange. Disturbing. He felt a hilt pressed up against the underside of his chin, and something was pouring out from his mouth, sliding thick and hot down his cheeks.
No. I don’t like this. I’m leaving now. He closed his eyes.
Sharenas pulled the dagger free. She collected Silann by the collar and dragged him between two equipment tents. Then she cleaned her blade on his cloak and sheathed it again.
It was only twenty or so paces to Esthala’s tent. Straightening, Sharenas resumed her journey. She reached the front and tapped at the ridge-pole, and then drew back the flap and stepped inside.
There was a brazier on the floor, emanating dry heat and a soft glow. Beyond that, Esthala was on a cot, settled back but still dressed. She looked over and frowned. Sharenas drew back her hood before the woman could speak, and saw a swift change of expression accompany recognition, but not one she could easily read.
‘Sharenas! I see you’ve not yet shed the leagues of travel behind you. But still,’ she sat up, ‘welcome back. There’s mulled wine near that brazier.’
‘Your husband will be late, I’m afraid,’ Sharenas said, drawing off her cloak. ‘I ran into him, on his way up to the keep.’
‘The keep? That idiot. I told him to send a rider if he did not find one of her acolytes. He gets nothing right.’
Sharenas collected the pewter jug and poured out two cups of the steaming wine. The sharp smell of almonds wafted up into her face. Leaving one cup where it was, she brought Esthala the other one.
The captain stood to receive it. ‘So, what brings you to me, then? And couldn’t it wait until the morning?’
Sharenas smiled. ‘You are legendary, Esthala, for working through the night. I myself recall, when we arrayed for battle on a clear morning, seeing you heavy with sleep. Quite the harridan, in fact.’
