Shadow

Poldarn nodded. 'Prefect of Mael Bohec,' he replied. 'Caught out doing something illegal and arrested, so I'd heard.'

Captain Muno nodded. 'That's right,' he said. 'Unfortunately, he didn't stay arrested; some bunch of thugs rescued him and turned him loose, and he made straight for his old friend and business partner, Feron Amathy. Well, at least that's out in the open now. We've been suspecting something like that for over a year now and nobody'd listen.' Captain Muno paused and looked up. 'Sorry,' he said. 'Feron Amathy; heard of him?'

'I think so,' Poldarn replied. 'Basically an opportunist; doesn't mind changing sides. Is that the one you mean?'

'You could say that,' Captain Muno replied. 'Yes, a couple of times he helped out General Cronan; yes, on those occasions he was pretty useful-well, more than useful, he saved the day, saved the empire, however you want to put it. But he's still a treacherous bastard, and it's almost certain he's been sending his men out burning villages and massacring innocent people and pretending it was the raiders; there's evidence to suggest he had something to do with what happened to Josequin, though it's not clear whether it was his people alone or whether he was actually in league with the raiders-can you imagine that, actually helping those people? Or don't you know what I'm talking about?'

'I know who you mean,' Poldarn replied. 'So, the army you were fighting against…'

Captain Muno breathed in deeply, then out again. 'Tazencius showed up out of nowhere a couple of days ago just north of Liancor with about fifteen hundred Amathy house pikemen. We just happened to be at Laise Bohec, a day to the east of here, about to go off on exercises, so we were told to drop everything, get after him and bring him in. Four thousand of us; we reckoned it'd be a piece of cake. What we didn't know was that Tazencius had sorted something out with the prefect of Liancor and borrowed the garrison, three thousand men. It was a bit of a shock, coming over the crest of that hill there and seeing them all lined up and waiting for us.'

'I can imagine,' Poldarn said, inaccurately.

The captain sighed. 'Tazencius must've thought he had a chance of talking Actis into joining him, because although he had the better position and could've secured the ford before we could get to it, he just stood there and did nothing; and we stood here and did nothing back, because of course rules of engagement say we can't attack our own people first, they've got to start it before we can fight them. Meanwhile, Tazencius sends a messenger-we're standing about wondering what's going on, there's a conference or peace talks or whatever up there on the road between Actis and this messenger, and then suddenly, with no warning, some bloody fool thinks it'd be a good idea to seize the ford. To be honest with you, I don't know if it was us or them, because I wasn't watching; fact is, I was away in the bushes having a crap before the battle, it's a personal ritual of mine. Next thing, of course, everybody's scrambling down to the ford, no plan or order of battle, nothing like that, just a horrible mess and everybody piling in the river and getting trodden under or washed away. Really stupid, the whole thing. I mean, you could just about imagine the Amathy house doing something like that, but our people? We ought to've known better. I'm ashamed, I really am.'

Poldarn pulled a sympathetic face, though he had no idea whether the criticisms were reasonable or not. 'I saw the big shoving-match in the river,' he said, 'but I got distracted before the end, and when I-well, the next time I looked, it was all over. What happened in the end?'

'We did,' Captain Muno replied with a grin, and Poldarn realised he was much younger than he'd at first assumed; it was the pain and fear in Muno's eyes that had given him the impression he was dealing with a man of his own age. 'The cavalry, as always. The scouts found another ford just a mile upstream-took them bloody long enough, we'd been bashing away at each other for three hours in that damned river-so Actis called us out; we'd been fighting dismounted, would you believe, because he didn't have any light infantry and the heavies were falling over and drowning because they couldn't swim in all that ironmongery. Anyway, we were pulled out of the river, given our horses back, thank you so much, and told to get across the other ford as quick as we could, get behind the enemy and-well, do our job, that's what cavalry's supposed to be for. And we did.' A frown crossed his face, unwelcome but insistent. 'Nasty fight that was; not for us, for them, but it was pretty grim stuff up the front end. I was in the middle, of course, nothing to do once the charge had gone in; then we must've smashed through because we started moving up at the double, and that was when some bastard threw something at me and I fell off my horse, and that was that.' He sighed. 'We definitely won, though,' he said, 'because when I came round I could see where we'd been. Piles and heaps of them, maybe one or two or us-and me, of course. Just my luck, spoiling the squadron average and kill-to-loss ratio. We were at the top of the second division in the cavalry league before today, but I expect we've dropped a place now.'

Poldarn waggled his shoulders in a show of sympathy. 'Next stage,' he said. 'Sorry about all this stopping and starting, but it's the best I can do.'

It took a long time to cover a mile, but there was a steep slope to climb, and the wet ground was slippery, doubling the effort involved. By the time he reached the camp, which was more or less where Muno had said it would be, he was exhausted. Certainly, not in the mood for any aggravation from the sentries.

'Halt,' shouted a man with a spear, jumping out from behind a tree. 'Who goes there? Stand and identify yourself,' he added, levelling the spear an inch from Poldarn's throat.

'Piss off,' Poldarn replied, taking a step sideways to avoid the spear and carrying on without stopping. The guard did a double-take and came scampering after him.

'You! Didn't you hear me? I said-'

'I heard you,' Poldarn said wearily. 'Look, I've got one of your men here; two broken legs and God knows what else. You want him or not?'

The guard clearly hadn't been briefed on a situation like this. 'All right,' he said, in a tragic voice, 'but I'll have to clear it with the duty officer first. You just wait there-'

'No chance,' Poldarn snapped. 'What do you think this is, a sack of lambs' wool? Either you take him or get out of my way and tell me where you stack the wounded.'

The guard looked utterly miserable. 'Oh for God's-straight down between the rows of tents, third left, second right, look for a big green awning, that's the mess tent. Behind that on your left…'

'Stuff it,' Poldarn interrupted. 'You show me the way.'

'But I can't leave my post.'

'Shut up and do as you're told.'

So the sentry led the way; and whenever he tried to grab hold of someone to take over as guide, either they outranked him and told him off or dodged out of the way before he could open his mouth. All this time, of course, Poldarn's legs weren't getting any stronger and Muno carried on weighing a lot.

'There,' the sentry said, pointing at a green tent in the middle of a block. 'That one.' Then he spun round and scampered off the way they'd just come without looking back.

The surgeon was just finishing up an amputation when Poldarn came in; he was standing beside the table with a leg in one hand and a thick pad of bloodstained wool in the other. 'Who are you?' he asked as the orderlies removed the previous patient and slotted him in beside the others on the floor.

'Nobody you know,' Poldarn said. He bent down and tried to shrug Muno off on to the table without jarring or dropping him. Fortunately he'd passed out some time ago.

The surgeon glared at him. 'Can't you see there's a line?' he grumbled, indicating the row of damaged people Poldarn had just walked past.

'None of my business,' he replied. 'I said I'd get him here, and I have. In return, he said you'd give me a horse.'