A few moments later, Wareth arrived, and with him was a young woman who seemed far from pleased to be in his company, or anyone’s company for that matter. She immediately moved off to stand with her back against canvas, arms crossed and eyes upon the muddy floor.
You have my sympathy. This is a bag full of knives, and here you all are, with your hands plunged into it.
She saw Galar Baras studying the newcomer with a frown, and then he looked away, scanning the others for a moment before nodding and rising. ‘Today,’ he said, ‘we begin issuing weapons and armour.’
Castegan seemed to choke, but it was the quartermaster who said, ‘Commander, you cannot do that!’
‘It’s time, Seltin.’
‘The blades are eager for blood,’ Castegan said. ‘They are stung, each and every one of them. You can hear it, Galar Baras. The betrayal burns them.’
Sighing, Galar said, ‘Enough of that nonsense, Castegan. Yes, the iron has a voice, but you would make those weapons out to be more than what they are. Henarald himself explained how the Hust iron reacts to changes in temperature, and how each blade talks to those nearest it, as would a tuning fork. What we hear is pressure, and tension. These weapons, Castegan, are not alive.’
Castegan scowled. ‘It may be that they weren’t, Galar, but they are now. And I tell you this’ – he rapped the scabbard at his belt – ‘my blade slides into my dreams every night now. Begging for blood. Beseeching me to be the hand of its vengeance.’ He jabbed a finger at his commander. ‘Tell me, does your sword sleep at night?’
Galar met Castegan’s gaze for a long moment, and then he turned away. ‘Wareth, do you have anything to report?’
‘No, sir. Just another murder. Another woman-killer now stumbles through the everlasting Abyss. The mystery of how the bodies are moved continues to perplex us. We’ve gone nowhere in our investigation.’
‘And who is this woman you have brought to us?’
‘Rance, sir. From White Crag Pit. She has the makings of an officer, sir.’
Galar Baras grunted, and then faced her. ‘Rance. What think you? Shall I distribute the weapons and armour of the Hust to you and your fellow recruits?’
Her eyes narrowed on the commander. ‘It’s a conversation we cannot but overhear, sir,’ she said. ‘Those … things. What you suggest … I don’t know if any of us want to be part of that conversation.’
‘Not a conversation,’ Castegan said. ‘An argument. They’ll pluck at the worst in you. Think on that, Galar Baras! Think on these wretched murderers you would now arm! There will be chaos. Bloody chaos.’
Denar cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Kalakan, and then said, ‘Sir, it’s chaos already, and that’s building. We all spent years working, stumbling exhausted back to our bunks. Now we just march this way and that – at least, those willing to listen to us. Most of them, sir, just lie around bickering.’
Kalakan added, ‘We need more than just weapons, maybe. We need to be doing something. Anyway.’
Galar Baras nodded. ‘Well, consider this, then. It seems that Urusander is not interested in doing things the traditional way. He will not wait for spring. He will probably begin his march on Kharkanas before the month’s out.’
Faror Hend wondered at that, and then she said, ‘Forgive me, commander. But that would be foolish of him. The Wardens-’
Castegan cut her off with a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Then you’ve not heard. Ilgast Rend was given command by Calat Hustain and took your Wardens to Neret Sorr. There was a battle with Urusander’s Legion. Rend’s dead, the Wardens shattered.’
She stared at the man, unable to comprehend his news. Galar Baras stepped close and set a hand upon her shoulder. ‘Damn Castegan for his insensitivity, Faror. I would have spoken of it to you, once this meeting was done. I am sorry. The tale but just arrived, from a courier out of Kharkanas.’
‘This is the season of sordid ends,’ Castegan said, now pacing. ‘No time for sentimentality. I make my words hard and cruel, not out of malice, but to impress upon everyone here that niceties are an indulgence we can no longer afford. Galar – send that rider back to Kharkanas, with a message for Silchas Ruin. The effort here has failed. There is no Hust Legion. It’s dead. Gone. Exhort him to sue for peace.’
Faror backed away from Galar’s grip, until she felt the cold, wet tent wall at her back. Ilgast Rend … no! My friends- ‘Commander, what is the fate of Calat Hustain? He rode out to the Vitr with a company-’ Spinnock! You still live. Oh, feel my relief – woman, are you truly this shallow? ‘Captain Finarra Stone was sent to the Shake. Does she – has she learned of this?’ What, what am I to do now?
A camp-stool nudged her left leg, and she looked down, uncomprehendingly, until Wareth’s voice said, ‘Sit, Faror.’
Numb, she sank down.
Galar Baras was speaking. ‘… mission is now imperative. He wants us ready to march in two weeks. The matter is made simple. We have no choice, now.’
‘Untrue!’ Castegan said in a snarl. ‘We cannot hope to command these savages! The only choice left us is to surrender!’
‘Wareth.’
‘Commander?’
‘Gather the sergeants and corporals drawn from the prisoners. Add more to make the complement complete. I will want that list before noon today. Bring them to the training ground. We will do this in two phases. They are the first to be armed and armoured.’
‘Long overdue,’ said Curl, making fists with his battered hands. ‘I would feel that iron. Taste it. Listen to its song.’
‘Wareth, take your fellows out to the wagons. Oh, by the way, your old blade awaits you.’
At those words, Wareth flinched. ‘Sir, I beg you, not that one.’
‘You are bound to it,’ Galar Baras replied. ‘Until death takes you. Really, Wareth, you already knew that.’
‘Then, sir, I humbly request that I remain unarmed.’
‘Denied. Seltin, join Wareth and see to the proper issuing to my lieutenants here. Thereafter, remain at your post, and double the guard over the wagons. We will see what happens when the sergeants and corporals return to their squads – this afternoon and tonight. Then, if all goes well, we will equip the regulars tomorrow.’
As the quartermaster led the prisoners out of the tent, Galar turned to Castegan. ‘Get out. I will speak in private with Faror Hend now.’
‘Consider well,’ said Castegan in a growl, ‘the honour of the Hust Legion.’
‘See to your own, Castegan!’ Galar snapped, eyes holding on Faror where she sat.
The man straightened. ‘When it is all I have left to defend, Galar Baras, I require no admonition from you.’
Galar turned on him. ‘Is it honour you now fight for? I would think guilt a more apt word for what gnaws at your soul. Swallow it down whole, Castegan, and muse long on its weight. At the very least, it will keep your feet on the ground.’
‘Commander Toras Redone defied my seniority here-’
‘Defied? No. She questioned it. You may have me in years, but not years in service to the Hust. I will, if you ask it, release you to return to your original legion. I am sure you will have plenty of intelligence to sell to Urusander.’
Castegan was trembling as he faced his commander. ‘You make a dangerous offer, Galar Baras.’
‘Why? This is not a gale you need face. Leave it to push you round, and, like a hand at your back, send you running home.’
Saying nothing more, Castegan strode from the tent.
After a long moment, Galar Baras faced Faror Hend once again. ‘What Lord Ilgast Rend did was unforgivable.’
She snorted. ‘He need not beg for forgiveness any longer, sir, now that he lies dead.’
‘Faror, Lord Silchas Ruin has given me command of all forces but the Houseblades of the highborn Houses. For all that, I expect it to be temporary. When Lord Anomander returns, it will be Silchas taking my place.’