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Once beyond Aren Way’s battered gate and the abandoned ruins of a small village, they could now see the Seti and Wickan outriders on their flanks-a comforting sight to Strings. The raiding and sniping could begin at any time, now that the army had left the walls of Aren behind. Most of the tribes had, if the rumours were true, conveniently forgotten the truces they had won from the Malazan Empire. The old ways did naught but sleep restless beneath the surface of such peoples.
The landscape ahead and to either side was sun-blasted and broken, a place where even wild goats grew lean and listless. The mounded, flat-topped heaps of rubble that marked long-dead cities were visible on every horizon. Ancient raised roads, now mostly dismantled, stitched the rugged hillsides and ridges.
Strings wiped sweat from his brow. ‘Green as we are, it’s about time she called-’
Horns sounded along the massive train’s length. Motion ceased, and the shouts of the water crews rose into the dusty air as they scrambled for the barrels. Strings swung about and studied his squad-they were already on the ground, sitting or sprawled, their long-sleeved undershirts darkened with sweat.
Among Gesler’s and Borduke’s squads, the reaction to the rest-halt had been identical, and Borduke’s mage, Balgrid-slightly overweight and clearly unused to the armour he was wearing-looked pale and shivering. That squad’s healer, a quiet, small man named Lutes, was already moving towards him.
‘A Seti summer,’ Koryk said, offering Strings a carnivorous smile. ‘When the grasslands are driven to dust by the herds, when the earth underfoot clicks like breaking metal.’
‘Hood take you,’ Smiles snapped. ‘This land’s full of dead things for a reason.’
‘Aye,’ the Seti half-blood replied, ‘only the tough survive. There are tribes aplenty out there-they’ve left enough sign in passing.’
‘You have seen that, have you?’ Strings said. ‘Good. You’re now the squad’s scout.’
Koryk’s white grin broadened. ‘If you insist, Sergeant.’
‘Unless it’s night,’ Strings added. ‘Then it’ll be Smiles. And Bottle, assuming his warren is suitable.’
Bottle scowled, then nodded. ‘Well enough, Sergeant.’
‘So what’s Cuttle’s role, then?’ Smiles demanded. ‘Lying around like a beached porpoise?’
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Once beyond Aren Way’s battered gate and the abandoned ruins of a small village, they could now see the Seti and Wickan outriders on their flanks-a comforting sight to Strings. The raiding and sniping could begin at any time, now that the army had left the walls of Aren behind. Most of the tribes had, if the rumours were true, conveniently forgotten the truces they had won from the Malazan Empire. The old ways did naught but sleep restless beneath the surface of such peoples.
The landscape ahead and to either side was sun-blasted and broken, a place where even wild goats grew lean and listless. The mounded, flat-topped heaps of rubble that marked long-dead cities were visible on every horizon. Ancient raised roads, now mostly dismantled, stitched the rugged hillsides and ridges.
Strings wiped sweat from his brow. ‘Green as we are, it’s about time she called-’
Horns sounded along the massive train’s length. Motion ceased, and the shouts of the water crews rose into the dusty air as they scrambled for the barrels. Strings swung about and studied his squad-they were already on the ground, sitting or sprawled, their long-sleeved undershirts darkened with sweat.
Among Gesler’s and Borduke’s squads, the reaction to the rest-halt had been identical, and Borduke’s mage, Balgrid-slightly overweight and clearly unused to the armour he was wearing-looked pale and shivering. That squad’s healer, a quiet, small man named Lutes, was already moving towards him.
‘A Seti summer,’ Koryk said, offering Strings a carnivorous smile. ‘When the grasslands are driven to dust by the herds, when the earth underfoot clicks like breaking metal.’
‘Hood take you,’ Smiles snapped. ‘This land’s full of dead things for a reason.’
‘Aye,’ the Seti half-blood replied, ‘only the tough survive. There are tribes aplenty out there-they’ve left enough sign in passing.’
‘You have seen that, have you?’ Strings said. ‘Good. You’re now the squad’s scout.’
Koryk’s white grin broadened. ‘If you insist, Sergeant.’
‘Unless it’s night,’ Strings added. ‘Then it’ll be Smiles. And Bottle, assuming his warren is suitable.’
Bottle scowled, then nodded. ‘Well enough, Sergeant.’
‘So what’s Cuttle’s role, then?’ Smiles demanded. ‘Lying around like a beached porpoise?’
Beached porpoise? Grew up by the sea, did you ? Strings glanced over at the veteran soldier. The man was asleep. I used to do that, back in the days when nothing was expected of me, when I wasn’t in charge of a damned thing. I miss those days . ‘Cuttle’s task,’ Strings replied, ‘is keeping the rest of you alive when I’m not close by.’
‘Then why isn’t he the corporal?’ Smiles wanted to know, a belligerent set to her petite features.
‘Because he’s a sapper, and you don’t want a sapper for a corporal, lass.’ Of course, I’m a sapper, too. Best keep that to myself …
Three soldiers from the company’s infantry arrived with waterskins.
‘Drink it down slow,’ Strings instructed. Gesler caught his eye from a few paces away, near the wagon, and Strings headed over. Borduke joined them.
‘Well, this is curious,’ Gesler muttered. ‘Borduke’s sickly mage-his warren’s Meanas. And my mage is Tavos Pond, and he’s the same. Now, Strings, your lad, Bottle…’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘He’s also Meanas,’ Borduke growled, pulling at his beard in a habitual gesture Strings knew would come to irritate him. ‘Balgrid’s confirmed it. They’re all Meanas.’
‘Like I said.’ Gesler sighed. ‘Curious.’
‘That could be put to use,’ Strings said. ‘Get all three of them working on rituals-illusions are damned useful, when done right. Quick Ben could pull a few-the key is in the details. We should drag them all together tonight-’
‘Ah,’ said a voice from beyond the wagon, and Lieutenant Ranal strode into view, ‘all my sergeants together in one place. Convenient.’
‘Come to eat dust with the rest of us?’ Gesler asked. ‘Damned generous of you.’
‘Don’t think I haven’t heard about you,’ Ranal sneered. ‘Had it been my choice, you’d be one of the lads carrying those waterskins, Gesler-’
‘You’d go thirsty if I was,’ the sergeant replied.
Ranal’s face darkened. ‘Captain Keneb wants to know if there’s any mages in your squads. The Adjunct needs a tally of what’s available.’
