‘If I died,’ Gendler said, ‘Gaunt wouldn’t even drag his heel in the dirt to make a grave.’
Meryn nodded.
‘I have a question,’ said Wilder. ‘Fancy private funerals like that? They cost a lot. A fething lot. So who’s paying for it?’
‘Histye, soule,’ said Ezra.
Gaunt looked up from his work. The Nihtgane was staring out of the window into the yard below. Gaunt got up. His desk was covered in data-slates. True to his word, Biota had couriered full technical specs for the Urdesh theatre over to Gaunt. There was a lot to go through, and what he’d studied already had left him worried.
Besides, he was distracted. The shade of Maddalena stood over him. He felt a numb sense of loss. Part of him worried that the loss would grow sharper as he processed it. Another part was afraid that his life had simply made him unfeeling towards death, that his capacity for emotional connection had withered to nothing.
Whatever, he’d lost track of time. It was almost noon.
He went over to the window and saw what Ezra was looking at.
The cortege had arrived. The hired mourners, in their long black coats, had got out and were walking towards the medicae trailer.
‘Can you go find Felyx and tell him we’ll be setting off shortly?’ he asked Ezra.
The Nihtgane nodded.
‘Ezra?’
‘Soule?’
‘I’ve asked Dalin to keep an eye on Felyx, now Maddalena’s gone. But as a favour to me, could you…’
Ezra cocked his head quizzically.
‘Just watch over him,’ said Gaunt. ‘Nothing intrusive, just from the shadows. But watch him, and look after him, and if things get dangerous, step in and help Dalin.’
‘You need not ask it,’ said Ezra.
Ezra passed Blenner as he left the room.
‘Got a moment, Ibram?’ Blenner asked lightly.
Gaunt was putting on his black armband.
‘No, Vaynom.’
‘Oh, is it that time already?’
Blenner went to the window. He watched as the mourners brought the coffin out and slid it into the back of the transport. Curth, arms folded, supervised them.
‘Well, it can wait,’ said Blenner. ‘Later on.’
‘I’m at staff later on,’ said Gaunt.
‘This evening, then?’
‘All day, Blenner. I’ve been called in for a round of more detailed debriefs, then there’s all that to work through.’
Gaunt nodded towards the data-slates on his desk.
‘I’m sure staff knows all about the war, Ibram,’ said Blenner.
Gaunt looked at him.
‘I’m not sure they do,’ he said. ‘I’ve been looking at that material. I think I’ve seen something they’ve missed.’
‘You’ve seen something they’ve missed?’ said Blenner with a smile. ‘Something that all the lords militant and fancy-pants generals and chief tacticians and intelligence service officers have–’
‘Yes,’ said Gaunt. ‘Because they’re too close. I’m fresh eyes. And it’s startlingly obvious to me.’
Blenner swallowed. He felt his stress rising, his palms beginning to sweat. He knew that look. When Ibram Gaunt got that look, you knew shit was coming. Blenner did not want shit to be coming.
He crossed to the side table and helped himself to a glass of amasec.
‘I presume you’re not going to share your special theory with me?’ he asked. As he poured the drink, he used his body to shield the fact he was slipping a pill from his pocket. Feth! Almost the last one.
‘I’m not sharing it with anybody except staff just yet,’ said Gaunt.
Blenner palmed the pill and knocked it down with the amasec.
‘Throne, but elevation has changed you,’ he said, trying to sound light. Gaunt didn’t rise to it.
‘Have you spoken to Ana?’ Blenner asked.
‘No. Why?’
‘Not at all?’ asked Blenner.
‘In the course of regular duties, yes, but not otherwise. Why?’
‘I think you should,’ said Blenner, regretting that he’d knocked the amasec back in one and wondering if he could get away with a top up.
‘Why?’ asked Gaunt, staring at him.
‘Well, things have been so hectic, Ibram. So much has happened. And now that poor lady is dead, and you and Ana were such good friends–’
‘Did she say something to you?’
‘Ana? No! No, I just think… you know… You must be aware that Doctor Curth is very fond of you…’
Gaunt picked up his cap.
‘I don’t have time for this, Vaynom, and even if I did, it isn’t appropriate.’
‘A man talking to his best and oldest friend isn’t appropriate?’ asked Blenner, helping himself to another amasec anyway.
‘Feth’s sake, Blenner. What do you want?’
Blenner looked wounded.
‘Well, if you’re going to be like that, lord militant commander,’ he said. ‘I think you and Curth should talk. She’s troubled.’
‘I understood,’ said Gaunt, ‘that you were keeping good company with Doctor Curth. A fact you’ve clumsily dropped into conversation on several occasions.’
‘I am. I have. We have an understanding.’
‘What have you done, Vaynom?’
‘Nothing.’
Gaunt took a step forwards.
‘Have you messed with her?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘I know you, Blenner. Remember that. You’re a rogue. A lush. A ladies’ man. You get what you’re after and then you leave without a goodbye. You don’t care about people.’
‘Now hang on–’
‘If you’ve strung her along,’ said Gaunt. ‘If you’ve messed with her affections and then done your usual trick of bolting. If you’ve hurt her–’
‘That’s rich, coming from you!’ snapped Blenner.
‘Lose the tone! What did you do to her? What have you said?’
‘It’s not like that at all!’ replied Blenner. His hands were shaking. ‘We’re not together or anything. We’re friends. Feth you, Ibram! You’re the one she has feelings for. You always have been. Take a long look at yourself. A long, hard look! Because if anyone is messing Ana Curth about, it’s you! She cares! She’s worried about you! She’s worried that your grief might–’
‘That’s enough, commissar,’ said Gaunt.
‘Yes, well.’
‘I’ve known you a long time, Blenner. I’ve put up with your antics and your flaws for a long time. You can talk to me with a familiarity that very few other people in this regiment can get away with. But when you’re in uniform, you don’t address me like that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Blenner. He put the glass down.
‘That charm of yours only runs so far,’ said Gaunt. ‘Sort yourself out, and fast, or I’ll have to review your posting with this regiment.’
‘Yes, sir.’
There was a knock at the door. One of the Tempestus Scions looked in.
‘I’m coming, Sancto,’ said Gaunt.
‘My lord,’ said the Scion, ‘word has just arrived. You are summoned to the palace.’
‘No, I’m due this afternoon.’
‘The summons was very clear, my lord. You are to report immediately.’
‘But I’ve got a funeral to–’
Gaunt stopped. He took a deep breath.
‘Bring the transport round, Sancto,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right there.’
Blenner looked at Gaunt.
‘That’s bad timing,’ said Blenner. ‘I know you would want to go with your son. Do you want me to–’
‘No, Vaynom. I don’t want you to do anything.’
Gaunt buckled on his sword, straightened his coat, and left the room.
Alone, Blenner stared at the glass on the side. His hands were shaking badly and his heart was racing. He saw his future sliding away from him. Gaunt’s intimation that bad trouble was coming was bleak enough. He didn’t want that. But he had comforted himself that now he was posted to the command group of a militant commander, privilege would protect him. That kind of swing could get a man out of the front line.