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conversation back to Galtic.

The medic coughed once, then discreetly stepped to the far side of the

tent. Balasar folded his hands and nodded to Sinja that he should

continue. The mercenary sucked his teeth and spat.

"Your men are angry. Having those shrouds along is like putting a burr

under their saddles. They're calling my men things they didn't when this

campaign began. And they act as if it were harmless and in fun, but it

isn't."

"I'll see your men aren't attacked again, Sinja. You have my word on it."

"It's not just that, sir. You're sowing anger. Yes, it keeps them

traveling faster, and I respect that. But once we reach tldun and

tJtani, they're going to have their blood up. It's easier for ten

thousand soldiers to defeat a hundred thousand tradesmen if the

tradesmen don't think defeat means being beaten to death for sport. And

a had sack can burn in resentments that last for lifetimes. All respect,

those cities are as good as taken, and we both know it. There's no call

to make this worse than it has to be."

"I should be careful?" Balasar said. "Move slowly, and let the cities

fall gently?"

"YOU said before you wanted this done clean."

"Yes. Before. I said that before."

""They're going to be your cities," Sinja said doggedly as a man

swimming against the tide. ""There's more to think about than how to

capture them. It's my guess Gait's going to be ruling these places for a

long time. The less the people have to forget, the easier that rule's

going to he."

"I don't care about holding them," Balasar said. "There are too many to

guard, and once the rest of the world scents blood, it's going to he

chaos anyway. This war isn't about finding ways for the High Council to

appoint more mayors."

"Sir?"

"We are carrying the dead because they are my dead." Balasar kept his

voice calm, his manner matter-of-fact. The trembling in his hands was

too slight to be seen. And I haven't come to conquer the Khaiem, Captain

Ajutani. I've come to destroy them."

THE. FIRST REFUGEES APPEARED WHEN OTAII'S LFI"I'LE ARMY WAS STILL three

days' march from the village of the I)ai-kvo. 't'hey were few and

scattered in the morning, and then more and larger groups toward the

day's end. The stories they told Otah were the same. Ships had come to

Yalakeht-warships loaded heavy with Galtic soldiers. Some of the ships

were merchant vessels that had been on trade runs to Chahuri- "lan.

Others were unfamiliar. The harbor master had tried to refuse them

berths, but a force of men had come from the warehouse district and

taken control of the seafront. By the time the Khai had gathered a force

to drive them hack, it was too late. Yalakeht had fallen. Any hope that

Otah's army might he on a fool's errand ended with that news.

In the night, more men came, drawn by the light and scent of the army's

cook fires. Otah saw that they were welcomed, and the tale grew. Boats

had been waiting, half assembled, in the warehouses of Galtic merchants

in \'alakcht. Great metal boilers ran paddle wheels, and pushed their

wide, shallow boats upriver faster than oxen could pull. Boats loaded

with men and steam wagons. The low towns nearest Yalakeht had been

overrun. Another force had been following along the shore, hauling food

and supplies. The soldiers themselves had sped for the Dal-kvo. Just as

Otah had feared they would.

Utah sat in his tent and listened to the cicadas. They sang as if

nothing was changing. As if the world was as it had always been. A

breeze blew from the south, heavy with the smell of rain though the

clouds were still few and distant. Trees nodded their branches to one

another. Utah kept his hack to the fire and stared out at darkness.

"There was no way to know whether the Galtic army had reached the

village yet. Perhaps the Dai-kvo was preparing some defense, perhaps the

village had been encircled and overrun. From the tales he'd heard, once

the Galts and their steam wagons reached the good roads leading from the

river to the village itself, they would be able to travel faster than

news of them.

It had been almost thirty years ago when Otah had traveled tip that

river carrying a message from Saraykeht. The memory of it was like

something from a dream. "There had been an older man-younger, likely,

than Otah was now-who had run the boat with his daughter. They had never

spoken of the girl's mother, and Otah had never asked. That child

daughter would he a woman now, likely with children of her own. Otah

wondered what had become of her, wondered whether that half-recalled

river girl was among those flying out of the storm into which he was

heading, or if she had been in one of the towns that the army had destroyed.

A polite scratch came at the door, his servant announcing himself. Utah

called out his permission, and the door opened. He could see the

silhouettes of Ashua Radaani and his other captains looming behind the

servant boy's formal pose.

"Bring them in," Otah said. "And bring us wine. Wait. Watered wine."

The six men lumbered in. Utah welcomed them all with formal gravity. The

fine hunting robes in which they had come out from Machi had been

scraped clean of mud. The stubble had been shaved from their chins. From

these small signs and from the tightness in their bodies, Utah knew they

had all drawn the same conclusions he had. He stood while they folded

themselves down to the cushion-strewn floor. "Then, silently, Utah sat

on his chair, looking down at these grown men, heads of their houses who

through the years he had known them had been flushed with pride and

self-assurance. The servant boy poured them each a bowl of equal parts

wine and fresh water before ghosting silently out the door. Otah took a

pose that opened the audience.

"We will he meeting the Galts sometime in the next several days," Otah

said. "I can't say where or when, but it will be soon. And when the time

comes, we won't have time to plan our strategy. We have to do that now.

Tonight. You have all brought your census?"

Each man in turn took a scroll from his sleeve and laid it before him.

The number of men, the weapons and armor, the horses and the bows and

the numbers of arrows and bolts. The final tally of the strength they

had managed. Otah looked down at the scrawled ink and hoped it would be

enough.

"Very well," he said. "Let's begin."

None of them had ever been called upon to plan a battle before, but each

had an area of expertise. Where one knew of the tactics of hunting,

another had had trade relations with the Wardens of the Westlands enough