‘He’s just bored.’
‘Who ain’t? I just got this feeling we’re going to fit badly for a week or two once we start marching.’
Fiddler snorted. ‘We’ve never fit well, Cuttle. You telling me you’ve never noticed?’
‘We done good in that Letherii village-’
‘No we didn’t. If it wasn’t for Hellian’s and Gesler’s squads-and then Badan Gruk’s, why, our fingernails would be riding flower buds right about now, like cute hats. We were all over the place, Cuttle. Koryk and Smiles running off like two lovestruck hares-turned out Corabb was my best fist.’
‘You’re looking at it bad, Fiddler. All that. Edur were coming in on all sides-we had to split ’em up.’
Fiddler shrugged. ‘Maybe so. And granted, we did better in Y’Ghatan. I guess I can’t help comparing, ’times. A useless habit, I know-stop looking at me like that, sapper.’
‘So you had Hedge and Quick Ben. And that assassin-what was his name again?’
‘Kalam.’
‘Aye, that boar with knives. Stupid, him getting killed in Malaz City. Anyway, my point is-’
‘We had a Barghast for a squad fist, and then there was Sorry-never mind her-and Whiskeyjack and Hood knows, I’m no Whiskeyjack.’ Noticing that Cuttle was laughing, Fiddler’s scowl deepened. ‘What’s so damned funny?’
‘Only that it sounds like your old Bridgeburner squad was probably just as bad fitting as this one is. Maybe even worse. Look. Corabb’s a solid fist, with the Lady’s hand down the front of his trousers; and if he drops then Tarr steps in, and if Tarr goes, then Koryk. You had Sorry-we got Smiles.’
‘And instead of Hedge,’ said Fiddler, ‘I got you, which is a damned improvement, come to think on it.’
‘I can’t sap the way he can-’
‘Gods, I’m thankful for that.’
Cuttle squinted at his sergeant as they approached the enormous hospital tent. ‘You really got something to pick with Hedge, don’t you? The legend goes that you two were close, as nasty in your own way as Quick Ben and Kalam. What happened between you two?’
‘When a friend dies you got to put them away, and that’s what I did.’