that's truth," Sinja said. "And honestly, I expect we'll lose some. I
don't know how it is in Galt, sir, but when I've taken a green company
into battle the first time, we always lose some."
"Inexperience," Balasar said, agreeing.
"No, sir. I don't mean the enemy spits a few, though that's usually true
as well. I mean there are always a few who came into the work with epics
in their heads. Great battles, honor, glory. All that pig shit. Once
they see what a battlefield or a sacked town really looks like, they
wake up. Half these boys are still licking off the caul. Some of them
will think better and sneak off."
"And how do you plan to address the problem?"
"Let them go," Sinja said and shrugged. "We haven't seen a fight yet,
but before this is finished, we will. When it happens I'd rather have
twenty soldiers than thirty men looking for a reason to retreat."
The general frowned, but he also nodded. At the edge of the pier, half a
hundred seagulls took to the air at once, their cries louder than the
waves. They wheeled once over the ships and then settled again, just
where they had been.
"Unless you have a different opinion, sir," Sinja said.
"Do this," Balasar said, looking up from under his brow. "Go to them.
Explain to them that I will never turn against my men. But if they leave
me . . . if they leave my service, they aren't my men any longer. And if
I find them again, I won't he lenient."
Sinja scratched his chin, the stubble just growing in, and felt a smile
growing in his mind.
"I can see that they understand, sir," he said. "And it might stop some
of the ones who'd choose to hang up their swords. But if there's someone
you feel isn't loyal, one of my men that you think isn't yours, I'd
recommend you kill him now. "There's no room on a campaign like this for
someone who'll take up arms against the man that pays his wage.
Balasar nodded, leaning back in his chair.
"I think we understand each other," he said.
"Let's he certain," Sinja said, and put his hands open and palms-down on
the table between them. "I'm a mercenary, and to judge by that pile of
silk and cedar chests you're about to ship hack to Galt, you're the man
who's got the money to pay my contract. If I've given you reason to
think there's more happening than that, I'd rather we cleared it up now.
Balasar chuckled. It was a warm sound. That was good.
"Are you ever subtle?" Balasar asked.
"If I'm paid to be," Sinja said. "I've had a had experience working for
someone who thought I might look better with a knife-shaped hole in my
belly, sir, and I'd rather not repeat it. Have I done something to make
you question my intentions?"
Balasar considered him. Sinja met his gaze.
"Yes," Balasar said. "You have. But it's nothing I would be comfortable
hanging you for. Not yet at least. The poet, when you killed him. He
addressed you in the familiar. Sinja-kya."
"Men begging for their lives sometimes develop an inaccurate opinion of
how close they are to the men holding the blades," Sinja said, and the
general had the good manners to blush. "I understand your position, sir.
I've been living under the Khaiem for a long time now. You don't know my
history, and if you did, it wouldn't help you. I've broken contracts
before, and I won't lie about it. But I would appreciate it if we could
treat each other professionally on this."
Balasar sighed.
"You've managed to shame me, Captain Ajutani."
"I won't brag about that if you'll agree to he certain you've a decent
cause to kill me before taking action," Sinja said.
"Agreed," Balasar said. "But your men? I meant what I said about them."
"I'll be sure they understand," Sinja said, then swigged down the last
of his wine, took a pose appropriate to taking leave of a superior, and
walked hack into the streets of the fallen city, hoping that it wouldn't
be clear from his stride that his knees felt loose. Not that a sane
measure of fear could be held against him, but there was pride to
consider. And someone was watching him. He could be damned sure of that.
So he walked straight and calm through the streets and the smoke and the
wailing of the survivors until he reached the camp outside the last
trailing building of Nantani. The tents were far from empty-the thugs
and free armsmen of Nlachi didn't all have a stomach for looting
Nantani- but he didn't speak to his men until just after nightfall.
They had a fire burning, though the summer night wasn't cold. The light
of it made the tents glow gold and red. The men were quiet. The boasting
and swaggering that the Galts were doing didn't have a place here. It
would have if the burning city had been made from gray Westlands stone.
Sinja stood at the front on a plank set up on chairs in a makeshift
dais. He wanted them to see him. The scouts he'd sent out to assure that
the conversation was private returned and took a confirming pose. If
General (;ice had set a watch over him, they'd gone to their own camps
or else come from within his own company. He'd done what he could about
the first, and the second there was no protection for. He raised his hands.
"So most of what we've done since the spring opened has been walk," he
said. "Well, we're in summer now, and you've seen what war looks like.
It's not the war I expected, that's truth. But it's the one we've got,
and you can all thank the gods that we're on the side most likely to
win. But don't think that because this went well, this is over with.
It's a long walk still ahead of us."
He sighed and shifted his weight, the plank wobbling a little under his
feet. A log in the fire popped, firing sparks up into the darkness like
an omen.
"There arc a few of you right now who are thinking of leaving. Don't ...
Quiet now! All of you! Don't lie to yourselves about it and don't lie to
me. This is the first taste of war most of you've seen. And some of you
might have had family or friends in Nantani. I did. But here's what I
have to say to you: Don't do it. Right now it looks like our friends the
Galts can't be stopped. All the gods know there's not a fighting force
anywhere in the cities that could face them, that's truth. But there's
worse things for an army to face than another army. Look at the size of
this force, the simple number of men. It can't carry the food it needs
with it. It can't haul that much water. We have to rely on the land
we're covering. The low towns, the cities. The game we can hunt, the