She shot him a glare, then wheeled. ‘Let us be about it, then, Fist.’
He let her take the lead, paused after a few paces to glance back. The sergeant had rejoined Cuttle, who had managed to dig a small hole in what seemed an absurdly short time.
‘Cobbles down there?’ The sergeant nodded. ‘Perfect!’
‘About what I figured,’ Cuttle replied. ‘I’ll angle these crackers, with the cusser a hand’s width deeper-’
‘Perfect. I’d have done the same if I’d thought to bring some with me.’
‘You supplied?’
‘Well enough.’
‘What I got here in my bag are the last.’
‘I can mend that, Cuttle.’
‘For that, Fid-’
‘Strings.’
‘For that, Strings, you’ve earned a kiss.’
‘I can’t wait.’
Gamet pulled himself away with a shake of his head. Sappers .
The explosion was a double thump that shook the earth, cobbles punching free of the overburden of dust-which had leapt skyward-to clack and clash in a maelstrom of stone chips and slivers. Fully a third of the legion were thrown from their feet, taking down others with them.
Astonishingly, none seemed fatally injured, as if Cuttle had somehow directed the force of the detonation downward and out under the cobbles.
As the last rubble pattered down, Adjunct Tavore and Gamet moved forward once again.
Facing the silenced mob, Cuttle stood with a sharper held high in one hand. In a bellowing voice, he addressed the recruits. ‘Next soldier who moves gets this at his feet, and if you think my aim ain’t any good, try me! Now, sergeants and corporals! Up nice and slow now. Find your squads. You up here in front, Sergeant Strings here has drawn us a tidy nice line-all right, so it’s a bit messy right now so he’s drawing it again-walk up to it easy like, toes a finger’s width away from it, boots square! We’re gonna do this right, or people are going to die .’
Sergeant Strings was moving along the front line now, ensuring the line was held, spreading soldiers out. Officers were shouting once more, though not as loud as before, since the recruits remained silent. Slowly, the legion began taking shape.
Those recruits were indeed silent, and… watchful, Gamet noted as he and the Adjunct returned to close to their original position-the gaping, smoking crater off to one side. Watchful… of the madman with the sharper held high above his head. After a moment, the Fist moved up to stand beside Cuttle.
‘You killed a nobleman?’ he asked in a low voice, studying the assembling ranks.
‘Aye, Fist. I did.’
‘Was he on the Chain of Dogs?’
‘He was.’
‘As were you, Cuttle.’
‘Until I took a spear through a shoulder. Went with the others on the Silanda . Missed the final argument, I did. Lenestro was… second best. I wanted Pullyk Alar to start, but Alar’s run off with Mallick Rel. I want both of them, Fist. Maybe they think the argument’s over, but not for me.’
‘I’d be pleased if you took me up on that offer of command,’ Gamet said.
‘No thanks, sir. I’m already assigned to a squad. Sergeant Strings’s squad, in fact. Suits me fine.’
‘Where do you know him from?’
Cuttle glanced over, his eyes thinned to slits. Expressionless, he said, ‘Never met him before today, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I owe him a kiss.’
Less than a quarter-bell later, Fist Gamet’s 8th Legion stood motionless in tight, even ranks. Adjunct Tavore studied them from where she stood at Gamet’s side, but had yet to speak. Cuttle and Sergeant Strings had rejoined the 9th Company’s 4th squad.
Tavore seemed to reach some decision. A gesture behind her brought Fists Tene Baralta and Blistig forward. Moments later they came up alongside Gamet and halted. The Adjunct’s unremarkable eyes fixed on Blistig. ‘Your legion waits in the main avenue beyond?’
The red-faced man nodded. ‘Melting in the heat, Adjunct. But that cusser going off settled them down.’
Her gaze shifted to the Red Blade. ‘Fist Baralta?’
‘Calmed, Adjunct.’
‘When I dismiss the 8th and they depart the parade ground, I suggest the remaining soldiers enter by company. Each company will then take position and when they are ready the next one follows. It may take longer, but at the very least we will not have a repetition of the chaos we have just witnessed. Fist Gamet, are you satisfied with the assemblage of your troops?’
‘Well enough, Adjunct.’
