“I do.”
“Not that it matters; if the pulse starts to flutter, your only option is to hope they throw off the effects of the drug before the heart stops. And that means your only choice will be to let them die or take your chances with an angry mage or a furious beastman.”
“He can’t change with that silver pin in his shoulder.”
“Then make sure it remains in his shoulder. I wish I’d had more time to study him. That hair’s fur you know. Teeth are larger, bones are heavier. I’d like to see one change. I never have.”
With them declared abomination, it was unlikely she ever would.
“You’re certain the girl’s a mage? I examined her eyes and there’s nothing there.”
“I’m certain.”
“That’s a new one on me, then. My mother had a couple of healer marks. Gold flecks. Couldn’t see them unless you knew to look. Still…” A nervous laugh and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “These two, they’re not in great shape, but there’s nothing wrong with them that should kill them before you get them to Karis. There’s bruising on both torsos from the gentle application of boots. I expected her ribs to be cracked at least, but they’re solid. He’s got a recent scar on one shoulder, and she’s got fresh scars on her heels. Oh, and you’re lucky you didn’t break her jaw when you put her out. There’s new swelling there on top of old.” She nodded down at the leather satchel on the ground between them. “Everything you need’s in the case, so there’s no point in me staying here while you wait for your driver. I’ve work of my own to do; a dozen wagonloads of wounded came back from the front this morning.”
“Did you hear how it’s going?”
Surgeon Major Raynold snorted. “People are still getting shot. Bleeding out. Losing arms. Legs. Eyes. More rending and tearing than usual, but, otherwise, that’s how it always goes. Remember, water your prisoners every time they wake. If you can convince them to behave without putting them back under, their chances of arriving alive go up, but, for pity’s sake, use no more of the drug than I showed you. Too much and they’ll not only be dead, but you’ll have wasted anesthetic I could have put to better use.” She took two strides toward the hospital tents, then she paused and turned. “Oh, and one of the drug’s components is flammable. Very flammable. All things considered, you’d best remember that, too.”
Reiter considered the man-shaped torch as he watched Raynold disappear between the tents, and he wondered how dangerous it was keeping flammable liquids under canvas, the garrison’s hospital being at best about half built. No surprise army bureaucracy had decided the paperwork needed a solid structure before the wounded.
He racked his musket, then tucked the satchel in under the wide seat and pulled out his watch. Half one. The transport sergeant, while not pleased about both circumstances and Major Halyss interfering with his scheduling, had said there’d be a driver available at…
“Captain Reiter!”
“Chard?” No mistaking the squint or the grin even if he hadn’t recognized the voice before he turned. “I left you at Bercarit.” Major Gagnon had been happy to accept three more muskets and the men able to shoot them. “The Shields don’t leave Karis, so they can’t be Shields, can they? I was hoping for a little more in the way of reinforcements, but they’ll do.”
“Yes, sir, you did, but they were short drivers, so I came with the wounded this morning. I thought I was done with horses when I joined, but I guess not.” He glanced into the back of the wagon. “Hey, you caught her again. Why would she come to…?” He squinted across the road at the city, looking confused.
“Abyek,” Reiter sighed.
“Yeah, Abyek. Why would she come here instead of going home?”
“I have no idea.”
“She dead, Cap?”
“No. Neither of them are,” he continued, cutting off Chard’s next question. “Stow your pack and let’s go.”
“Looks dead,” Chard noted, reaching in and moving the girl’s arm out of the way before dropping his pack in beside her. “Still warm, though. Who’s he?”
Abomination. Beastman. Boy. But this was Chard…“The dog.”
Chard froze, halfway up onto the wagon. “The dog? Wait, from that night? No shit! I mean,” he added hurriedly, “no shit, sir. That’s my dog? The big black one?” He slid his musket into the rack, sat, and twisted around to take another look. “I can’t get over how much they look like people.”
…gold hoops in her ears.
“Let’s go, Private. It’s a long way to Karis.”
“That’s just what Major Halyss said, Cap.” Chard unwound the reins from the brake, and slapped them down. “Walk on.” The big gelding shook himself, as though he were shaking his harness back into position, and started out of the yard.
“Major Halyss?”
“Yes, sir. Met me down by the hospital tents where I was helping unload the wounded and said you needed a driver. Said you needed someone who wasn’t going to get all stupid about mages and that tangle thing and stuff. That he’d made it smooth with transport and I was to meet you here. The horse’s name is Thunder because he has wicked bad farts.”
“Major Halyss said that?”
“Not the bit about the horse. Found that out on my own from a guy in transport.”
With the Duchies of Pyrahn and Traiton now the Imperial Provinces of Pyrahn and Traiton and Imperial governors installed in both Ducal Seats, trade had begun to pick up again. Reiter thought of what he’d said to the young corporal in the square about how people just wanted order made out of chaos. The armies of both duchies, the nobility, the stupidly patriotic had retreated to make a stand in Aydori. Most people—well, not the people who’d been living where the empire wanted to put a garrison, but most people—had just got on with their lives as best they could. After generations of conquest, most people had acquired a certain fatalistic opinion about the empire’s advance. Practice allowed Imperial bureaucracy to get things up and running with terrifying efficiency. As Chard passed an enormous wagonload of brick pulled by four huge black horses with feet like dinner plates and feathered ankles—Were there ankles on a horse?—he wondered if trade had even bothered to stop. He did know there were piss-all privately owned horses now in either province since both sides had been drafting them as theirs were shot. Any horse in Pyrahn or Traiton currently either worked for the army or for Imperial interests.
Chard slapped the reins down again, and Thunder confirmed his name before breaking into a trot.
Chapter Nine
THE SUN HAD SLIPPED behind them so that they drove over the edges of their shadow. Reiter had a vague memory, a child’s memory, of his gran pulling him aside, fingers pinching the inside flesh of his arm, and telling him to mind his shadow. To not walk in his own darkness. He hadn’t thought of his gran or her superstitions in years.
“Pull over to the side, Chard.”
Behind them in the wagon box the boy was starting to shake off the drug, tongue flicking out trying to lick his lips, his nostrils flaring. Did he have the senses of a dog even when he looked like a person? Next to him, the mage’s eyes moved under her lids. Both their pulses were strong although hers was definitely quicker. The pin was still in place, pushed into the flesh of the boy’s shoulder, just past the edge of the recent scarring. With the surgeon’s warning in mind, he decided to wait a little longer before giving them another dose.