‘I’m Maybe, Sergeant. Been with you since the beginning.’
‘Which door?’
‘What?’
‘The street we lived on in Kartool City. Which door was you in?’
‘I ain’t from Kartool, Sergeant. I meant, the beginning of the squad. That’s what I meant. Aren. Seven Cities. The first time we marched across a Hood-rotting desert.’
‘Back to Y’Ghatan? No wonder I’m so thirsty. Got water in that jug there, soldier?’
‘Just my piss, Sergeant.’
‘Lucky you ain’t a woman. Try pissing into a bottle when you’re a woman. Y’Ghatan. Gods below, how many times do we got to take that place?’
‘We ain’t marching to Y’Ghatan, Sergeant. We’re – oh, never mind. It’s a desert for sure, though. Cold.’
‘Corporal Touchless!’
‘Sergeant?’
‘What you got in that jug there?’
‘Piss.’
‘Who’s selling that stuff anyway? Bloody genius.’
Maybe said, ‘Heard the quartermaster was tying bladders on the Khundryl stallions.’
Hellian frowned. ‘They’d explode. Why would he do that? And more to the point, how? Stick your hand up its—’
‘Not the horse’s bladder, Sergeant. Waterskins, right? Cow bladders. Tied to the stallion’s cock.’
‘Duck, you mean.’
‘What?’
‘Horses hate cocks, but they don’t mind ducks. But that bladder would slow ’em down something awful. Quite the farm where you grew up, Maybe.’
‘I ain’t fooled, you know,’ said Maybe, leaning close. ‘But I see the point, right? You’re keeping us entertained. It’s like a game, pieces jumping every which way.’
She eyed him. ‘Oh, I’m just fooling with ya, am I?’
He met her gaze, and then his eyes shied away. ‘Sorry, Sergeant. Feeling it, huh?’
Hellian said nothing. Glowing green, aye. And all those rocks and shards out there, where the spiders are. Tiny eyes all heaped up, all watching me pass. I’m sober. Can’t pretend they’re not there, not any more .
And not a tavern in sight .
This is going to be bad. Very bad . ‘Hear that?’ she asked. ‘That was a damned hyena.’
‘That was Throatslitter, Sergeant.’
‘He killed a hyena? Good for him. Where’s Balgrid anyway?’
‘Dead.’
‘Damned slacker. I’m going to sleep. Corporal, you’re in charge—’
‘Can’t sleep now,’ Brethless objected. ‘We’re walking, Sergeant—’
‘Best time for it, then. Wake me when the sun comes up.’
‘Now that ain’t fair how she does that.’
Brethless grunted. ‘You hear about them all the time, though. Those veterans who can sleep on the march.’ He mused, and then grunted a second time. ‘Didn’t know she was one of them.’
‘Sober now,’ Maybe muttered. ‘That’s what’s new with her.’
‘Did you see her and Urb and Tarr heading back into the trench? I’d just about given up, and then I saw her, and she pulled me along as if I was wearing chains round my neck. I had nothing left – me and Touchy – remember, Touchy?’
‘Aye. What of it?’
‘We were finished. When I saw Quick Ben go down, it was like someone carved out my gut. I went all hollow inside. Suddenly, I knew it was time to die.’
‘You were wrong,’ said Maybe in a growl.
‘We got us a good sergeant, is what I’m saying.’
Maybe nodded, and glanced back at Crump. ‘You listening, soldier? Don’t mess it up.’
The tall, long-faced man with the strangely wide-spaced eyes blinked confusedly. ‘They stepped on my cussers,’ he said. ‘Now I ain’t got any more.’
‘Can you use that sword on your belt, sapper?’
‘What? This? No, why would I want to do that? We’re just marching.’
Lagging behind, breath coming in harsh gasps, Limp said, ‘Crump had a bag of munitions. Stuck his brain in there, too. For, uh, safekeeping. It all went up, throwing Nah’ruk everywhere. He’s just an empty skull now, Maybe.’
‘So he can’t fight? What about using a crossbow?’
‘Never seen him try one of those. But fight? Crump fights, don’t worry about that.’
‘Well, with what, then? That stupid bush knife?’
