‘We’ll have our turn being busy, I think,’ Gesler muttered.
The last sergeant who had accompanied them sighed, then said in a rasp, ‘Moak thinks we won’t be busy. Unless the new captain does something stupid. The Adjunct’s going to do something unexpected. We may not get a fight at all.’
Strings coughed. ‘Where does Moak get all this, Tugg?’
‘Squatting over the latrine, is my guess,’ Borduke grunted, then spat.
The heavy infantry sergeant shrugged. ‘Moak knows things, that’s all.’
‘And how many times does he get it wrong?’ Gesler asked, clearing his throat.
‘Hard to say. He says so many things I can’t remember them all. He’s been right plenty of times, I think. I’m sure of it, in fact. Almost sure.’ Tugg faced Strings. ‘He says you were in Onearm’s Host. And the Empress wants your head on a spike, because you’ve been outlawed.’ The man then turned to Gesler. ‘And he says you and your corporal, Stormy, are Old Guard. Underage marines serving Dassem Ultor, or maybe Cartheron Crust or his brother Urko. That you were the ones who brought that old Quon dromon into Aren Harbour with all the wounded from the Chain of Dogs. And you, Borduke, you once threw a nobleborn officer off a cliff, near Karashimesh, only they couldn’t prove it, of course.’
The three other men stared at Tugg, saying nothing.
Tugg rubbed his neck. ‘Well, that’s what he says, anyway.’
‘Amazing how wrong he got it all,’ Gesler said drily.
‘And I take it he’s been spreading these tales around?’ Strings asked.
‘Oh no. Just me and Sobelone. He told us to keep our mouths shut.’ Tugg blinked, then added, ‘But not with you, obviously, since you already know. I was just making conversation. Just being friendly. Amazing how that Whirlwind Wall just collapsed like that, isn’t it?’
Horns sounded in the distance.
‘Time to march,’ Gesler muttered, ‘praise Hood and all…’
Keneb rode up alongside Gamet. Their legion had been positioned as rearguard for this day of travel and the dust was thick in the hot air.
‘I’m starting to doubt the Whirlwind Wall ever vanished,’ Keneb said.
‘Aye, there’s less we’re kicking up than is still coming down,’ Gamet replied. He hesitated, then said, ‘My apologies, Captain-’
‘No need, sir. I am in fact relieved-if you’ll excuse the pun. Not just from the pressure of being a Fist, but also because Ranal’s promotion was rescinded. It was a pleasure informing him of that. Were you aware he had restructured the units? Using Greymane’s arrangements? Of course, Greymane was fighting a protracted war over a huge territory with no defined front. He needed self-contained fighting units, ready for any contingency. Even more irritating, he neglected to inform anyone else.’
‘Are you returning the squads to their original placement, Captain?’
‘Not yet, sir. Waiting for your word.’
Gamet thought about it for a time. ‘I will inform the Adjunct of our legion’s new structure.’
‘Sir?’
‘It might prove useful. We are to hold the rear at the battle, on a broken landscape. Ranal’s decision, no doubt made in ignorance, is none the less suitable.’
Keneb sighed, but said nothing, and Gamet well understood. I may have returned as Fist with the Adjunct’s confirmation, but her decision on our positioning has made it clear she’s lost confidence in me .
They rode on in silence, but it was not a comfortable one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Who among the pantheon would the Fallen One despise and fear the most? Consider the last chaining, in which Hood, Fener, the Queen of Dreams, Osserc and Oponn all participated, in addition to Anomander Rake, Caladan Brood and a host of other ascendants. It is not so surprising, then, that the Crippled God could not have anticipated that his deadliest enemy was not found among those mentioned…
The Chainings, Istan Hela
‘Just because I’m A woman-all woman-it doesn’t mean I can cook.’
Cutter glanced across at Apsalar, then said, ‘No, no, it’s very good, really-’
But Mogora wasn’t finished, waving a grass-snarled wooden ladle about as she stomped back and forth. ‘There’s no larder, nothing at all! And guests! Endless guests! And is he around to go find us some food? Never! I think he’s dead-’
‘He’s not dead,’ Apsalar cut in, holding her spoon motionless above the bowl. ‘We saw him only a short while ago.’