“You called, sir?” Jorfax asked, speaking to the empty desk.
Demir felt his eyes narrow. He knew glassdancers. He’d trained under them, he’d met hundreds, and they were as dismissive of authority as they were a terror to their underlings. They were, he suddenly realized, all just as arrogant as he was. A shudder went through him at the self-realization. He snapped his fingers. “Over here, Jorfax.”
She turned her head in his direction, staring straight into his soul with those piercing blue eyes. He stared right back. “How many glassdancers did you lose in the Copper Hills?” he asked.
“We haven’t finished our count yet, sir.” She pronounced the word “sir” with something that was just a hair shy of outright disdain.
“How many?”
“I just said–”
“Jorfax,” Demir said softly, “if you’d like to have a pissing contest then I’ll meet you at dawn with smallswords in eight weeks’ time. Right now I have a glassdamned war to win. Now how many glassdancers do you have left?”
Jorfax’s expression did not change in the slightest, but she worked her jaw a little before answering. “Thirty-four.”
“Out of?”
“Sixty.”
“Ouch.” Demir glanced toward Uncle Tadeas, who’d taken up a position against the wall with the casual air of a man watching a bear-baiting at the circus. He wasn’t scared of the bear, but he was definitely ready to run if the bear got loose.
Jorfax said, “You’re not going to win against Kerite.”
“Perhaps not,” Demir admitted, “but I’m going to do a damned sight better than Stavri, or even you and your glassdancers. In fact, I believe that at least ten of your glassdancers are only alive because Tadeas here provided an avenue for their escape.”
“Thank you, Major Grappo,” Jorfax said without inflection, her eyes not once leaving Demir. “With all due respect, sir, you’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
“Are you referring to the Grent glassdancer assassins that killed Stavri? I’m slightly better equipped for a threat like that.”
“No. I’m referring to facing her on the field of battle. She will roll right over you no matter what you do.”
“Kerite is that good?”
“I fought her on a campaign in Purnia. One of those damned colonial proxy wars. She’s the best general in the world, perhaps of all time.”
“Everyone knows that.”
“But few people have lived to tell the tale,” Jorfax said, her voice finally showing some emotion. “Her soldiers always have the best equipment, the best pay, the best training. They’re better than the Foreign Legion, and they’re loyal to a fault. Stavri was a fool to face both her and the Grent on the open battlefield.”
“Did you tell him that?”
Jorfax flinched. “No.”
“Good thing you don’t fear or respect me then, otherwise you wouldn’t bother to warn me.” Demir eyed the glassdancer carefully. He did not fear her – certainly not one-on-one – but Tadeas was right to regard her as a muzzled bear. One wrong move and she could go berserk. “I have work for you and your glassdancers. Kerite flanked Stavri by blinding his scouts. I’m going to do the same thing to her. Our new scouting policy is squads of twelve light cavalry with a glassdancer attached to each squad.”
“Are you insane?” Jorfax replied, finally turning her whole body to face Demir, her professionalism slipping.
Demir continued on as if he’d not been interrupted. “The glassdancers will kill all of Kerite’s scouts, and they’ll do it silently. The escort will only be there in case there’s some sort of a scrape a lone glassdancer can’t handle.”
“No,” Jorfax snapped. “I’m not giving that order. No one would follow it! We’re not common scouts, we’re glassdancers and–”
“Cowards?” Demir asked lightly.
Jorfax’s hand dropped to the smallsword at her belt, her expression somehow growing even more icy. “How dare you?”
“Say the word,” Demir replied. “We can even duel with sorcery if you want. Or you can stop being a pampered little artillery supplement and get your glassdancers out into the field. How about that?”
“I–”
Demir talked right over her. “You lost twenty-six glassdancers in a single battle because Stavri thought you could outmuscle a superior army, and you went along with it. I’m not going to play the same game. I’d just lose. Instead, your glassdancers are going to help me put a shard in her eye. Silent killers. The scouts won’t see what hit them. Once Kerite is blind, I’ll actually be able to maneuver around her.”
Jorfax peered hard at Demir, her eyes searching his face for something while her jaw worked like she was chewing a wad of tobacco. Finally she said, “It’s completely against custom.”
“Correct. That’s why it’ll work. Not even Kerite can convince her glassdancers to get their delicate hands dirty.”
“You of all people should know how hard it is to glassdance from horseback. It’s almost as hard as learning to shoot at a full gallop. The skill, the focus, the practice. None of my glassdancers have it.”
“Perhaps in a large, chaotic battle. But I’m not sending you out there to fight battalions. I’m sending you to murder individual scouts, maybe small squads at the largest, and I think any military-trained glassdancer should be able to handle that. So are you going to give that order, or am I going to have to strip you of command and work my way through all the remaining glassdancers until I find someone who will?”
If Jorfax had been silently fuming, she was furious now. Demir could see it in the way every sinew on her face was straining as if there were someone inside trying to get out. She said, “You don’t have that authority.”
“Let’s ask Father Vorcien. He’s got other glassdancers in his family. He doesn’t have other competent generals in Ossa.”
“Competent generals?” Jorfax demanded. “Do you want to talk about what happened after–”
“You’ll want to shut your mouth right now,” Tadeas suddenly spoke up. He added a soft smile and a “ma’am” to the end of the sentence. “Before you speak of things you know nothing about and say something you’ll regret later.”
Somehow, some way, Tadeas seemed to break through Jorfax’s steely exterior in a way that Demir couldn’t. She turned her eyes on Tadeas, a frown finally pulling down on the corners of her mouth. “You stand behind him, Major Grappo?”
“Yes.”
“For family, or for faith?”
“What do you think?” Tadeas asked.
Something seemed to pass between the two of them, and Jorfax finally gave a sharp nod. “I’ll give the order. Have your scout squads ready to go out within the hour. I hope you plan on moving quick, because the moment Kerite figures out what you’re doing she’ll move to counter it.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Demir took a deep breath and looked down, realizing that he’d been gripping a piece of skyglass tightly the whole time. He didn’t even remember pulling it from his pocket. “What happened there?” he asked.
“Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve saved Jorfax’s glassdancers,” Tadeas answered. “Or the second, or third. We call them glass cannons for a reason. Glassdancers can get disoriented under fire, and once they’re even a little bit confused they die as easily as anyone else.” He pursed his lips. “Also I think she has a thing for Idrian.”