Tarr was squinting across at him. ‘You say all that to the captain?’
‘I don’t know if Quick Ben’s dead or alive, Sergeant, but if I was to wager on it, well, I can think of a few hundred Bonehunters happy to go against me, more than a few hundred, in fact. But if I was to take that bet to Hedge, or Fiddler …’ Bottle shook his head, slapped at something biting his neck.
‘You’re wagering that he’s dead?’
‘No, I’m betting he’s alive. And I’m betting more than that. I’m betting he’s still in this game.’
The sergeant suddenly grinned. ‘Great to have you back, Mage.’
‘Not so fast, Tarr – Sergeant, I mean. Don’t forget, I didn’t see him at the end there. And from what I’ve heard, it was ugly.’
‘The ugliest.’
‘So … that’s why I’m not making any wagers.’
‘Hood knows what Fid ever saw in you, soldier. Go on, get out of my sight.’
When he’d exchanged places in the line with Corabb, Cuttle fell in on his left. ‘Listen—’
‘Who in Hood’s name am I these days, Fisher himself?’
‘What? No. It’s something Koryk said—’
‘Which thing? The thing about the Piss Drinker? Fid doesn’t make his own cards, Cuttle. He’s not that kind of Deck monger. So—’
‘About booty, soldier. That thing about booty.’
‘I think that was sarcasm.’
On his right, Smiles grunted, but offered nothing more.
‘That’s just it,’ Cuttle said. ‘Now, it was Dassem Ultor who really came down on the whole pillaging stuff—’
‘We were conquering, not raiding. When you occupy a city, it’s bad practice to loot and rape the citizens. Riles them, and before you know it your occupying garrison soldiers start getting murdered on night patrol.’
‘So, we weren’t in the habit of it anyway, but even then we still had a chance to get rich. Every company got itself a scribe and everything was portioned out. Collected weapons and armour. Horses, all that. Winning a battle meant bonuses.’
‘All very well, Cuttle,’ nodded Bottle. ‘But we here got us a temple treasury. The pay rolls are still being maintained. The fact is, sapper, we’re all stinking rich.’
‘Assuming we live to get it.’
‘That’s always how it is. I don’t see your point.’
The sapper’s small eyes glittered. ‘Tell me,’ he said in a rough voice, ‘do you give a Nacht’s ass about it? Do you, Bottle?’
He considered. Four, five, seven strides. ‘No,’ he admitted, ‘but then, I never did care much. Not in it for wealth.’
‘You’re young, aye. It’s the adventure that tugs you along. But you see, get to a certain age, seen enough of all that’s out there, and you start thinking about your life when it’s all done with. Y’start thinking about some cosy cottage, or maybe a decent room above a decent tavern. Aye, you know it’ll probably never be, but you dream about it anyway. And that’s where all the coin comes in.’
‘And?’
His voice dropped lower. ‘Bottle, I ain’t thinking past next week. I ain’t thought about my pay in months. You hearing me? No cottage, no tavern. No nice little fisher boat or, gods forbid, a garden. None of it.’
‘That’s because we’re the walking dead, right?’
‘I thought so, what with what Fid said the other night, but now I don’t.’
Curious, Bottle eyed the sapper. ‘Go on, then.’
Cuttle shrugged, as if suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Something’s happened to us, that’s all. The Bonehunters. Maybe it was invading Lether. Maybe it was Malaz City, or even Y’Ghatan, I don’t know. Look at us. We’re an army not thinking about loot. Why do you think Koryk went and mocked Smiles here about charging for her piss?’
‘Because he’s broke,’ Smiles answered. ‘And jealous.’
‘It’s because no one cares about silver and gold, or buying stinking estates, or breeding horses or taking up sea trades. We’re probably the only army in the world that doesn’t.’
Smiles snorted. ‘Hold on, sapper. You don’t think that when we’ve chopped up whoever and we’re standing there on that battlefield – don’t you think we’re gonna start cutting off fingers and all the rest? Loading up on torcs and rings and decent swords and whatever?’
‘No. I don’t, Smiles.’
‘I think I agree with Cuttle on this one,’ said Bottle. ‘Then again, maybe you will—’
‘Why should I?’ she retorted. ‘I wasn’t talking about me at all—’
‘Another first,’ Bottle muttered.
‘Oh, I’m gonna walk around checking bodies, aye,’ she said, nodding. ‘Find one still breathing, and slit goes the throat. Rings and shit? Forget it.’
‘Just what I been saying,’ Cuttle said, and he fixed wide eyes upon Bottle. ‘It’s exactly it, Bottle. This army has gone insane.’
‘Fid’s captain now,’ Balm growled. ‘What more do you need to know? He’ll do us right. He was a Bridgeburner, wasn’t he? Look at his old squad, lads – didn’t lose a damned one of them. If that ain’t the kind eye of a god looking down, what is?’
Widdershins crowded up behind Throatslitter, Deadsmell and the sergeant. ‘Did any of you hear Bottle back there? That stuff about our name?’
Throatslitter scowled. ‘What?’
‘He was asking about how we got our name.’
‘So?’
‘So, I just think … well … I think it’s important. I think Bottle knows something, but he’s keeping it quiet—’
‘Bottled up?’ Deadsmell asked.
Throatslitter’s high-pitched laugh triggered curses up and down the line. The assassin hissed under his breath. ‘Sorry, that just came out.’
‘So give him a shake, Wid,’ pressed Deadsmell, ‘until it all gushes out. He’s got a cork somewhere, go and find it.’
Throatslitter snorted, and then choked as he held down another squeal.
‘Stop that, Deadsmell,’ Balm ordered. ‘I mean it.’
‘But I’ve just scratched the surface of possibilities, Sergeant—’
‘You saw what Cuttle went and did to Koryk? I’ll lay you out, Deadsmell—’
‘You can’t do that – you’re our sergeant!’
‘Meaning I can do it, idiot.’
Widdershins said, ‘Bottle’s a mage, just like me. We got us a common bond. Think I might talk to him after all. There’s something he’s not saying. I know it.’
‘Well,’ mused Deadsmell, ‘the man did somehow survive the Nah’ruk kitchen tent, so that’s kind of impressive.’
‘And he came in with Captain Ruthan Gudd. There’s an inner circle, you see. I suspected it from way back.’
‘Widdershins, you may have hit on something there,’ said Deadsmell. ‘People in the know. Knowing … something.’
‘More than us, right.’
‘Probably got it all mapped out, too. Even how we’re going to get across this desert, and then take down another empire just like we took down Lether.’
‘Just like we crushed the Whirlwind, too. And got ourselves out of Malaz City. So now you ain’t making fun of me no more, Deadsmell, are ya?’
As one, the four marines twisted round to glare at the squad trudging behind them. Sergeant Tarr’s brows lifted.
‘You hearing this, Tarr?’ Balm called back.
‘Not a word of it, Balm.’
‘Good.’
Facing forward again, Widdershins tried to press even closer. ‘Listen,’ he whispered, ‘we can work out who’s in the know. Fid, and Ruthan Gudd—’
‘And Bottle,’ said Deadsmell, ‘because he’s Fid’s shaved knuckle.’
‘Masan Gilani—’
‘What? Really?’
‘Another one attached to the Adjunct’s retinue – they didn’t kill her horse, did you know that? They kept her two of ’em, in fact.’ Widdershins rubbed at his face. ‘Gets cold with the sun down, don’t it? Then there’s Lostara Yil, who did that Shadow Dance – that one for sure. Who else?’
‘Keneb but he’s dead,’ said Balm. ‘Quick Ben, too.’
Widdershins barked a low laugh. ‘I’m with Bottle on that one. He’s out there, somewhere. Maybe with Gesler and Stormy—’
‘Of course!’ Balm cut in. ‘Ges and Stormy! And don’t they have the runts with them?’