by D Murray
“With respect, Major,” Thaskil said, “but it has been reported the Daughter of the People took her own life.”
“Yes, Captain,” Leilah replied in a steady voice, “I am aware of this. May I continue?”
“Allow me to introduce Captain Thaskil,” Subath supplied. “He led the defence of Apula from the Solansian horde. He loves a good siege, and so he’s been helping prepare our defences.”
Leilah raised an eyebrow and nodded. “So this is the defender of Apula.” She looked at him a moment. “Behind the dirt, I see a young face. Younger than I would’ve expected. I’ve heard you managed the impossible.”
Thaskil nodded. “It was fortune above all else.”
“Nonsense, lad,” Subath scolded, “don’t be telling the major it was fortune. She is one of two things to us: an ally, or a spy. Either way, she need not think we lack the skill to defend ourselves.”
“My lord, Chief Marshal,” Leilah turned her attention to him, “I was trying to explain why I am your ally, and advise you of what you’ll need for your defences. And in all cases of war, some fortune is required.”
Subath waved his hand to her. “By all means, then, carry on.”
Leilah cleared her throat and spoke on. “After I conveyed the orders of the Father of the People, the chief marshal was somewhat plain with his words, as I believe you all know is a strength of his. He advised me that this was not what had occurred and that I should be cautious of those manoeuvring from behind the Father of the People. I returned to Nabruuk with the refusal of the Free Provinces. I met with the Father of the People and delivered the chief marshal’s response. He didn’t seem to listen, for he’s grief-mad, and is barely coherent much of the time. After delivering this message to the Father of the People, I spoke with a trusted adviser of mine, a man by the name of Nesta Hevera. Nesta is a retired general of Canna, and was one of the principle scribes on our two nations' treaty of peace signed over twenty years ago. It was my belief that Nesta, above all others, would be wary of any aggression between our nations. It was heated, but not without respect. Nesta leaned to attacking Carte, but not committing anything. We parted on good terms, vowing to keep the discussion private. After I spoke with him, I was waylaid and attacked by three attackers. I fled to a safe-house of mine in the city, and sent trusted messengers with dispatches to those officers and soldiers who I knew to be loyal to the treaty. It was risky, but several of us met, and discussed the meeting with Nesta. We brought our intelligence together, and found fragments of a plot. We pieced together extracts of overheard conversations, reviewed the content of copied dispatches, and mused on the timing of the deaths of several higher-ranking members of the Faith of the People. It is these deaths that brought me the gravest concern. Four of six most senior Cannan Proclaims have died in the last few weeks. Two in the raid on Nabruuk, one in her sleep, and the fourth fell from the uppermost balcony of his house. Accidentally, according to the report. All of it sort of coalesced together to point to one thing. It appears there has been a coup within the Faith of the People. With the moderate Proclaims out of the way, it appears some hardliners have filed the void and are pressing the Father of the People into a war on the Free Provinces. This is a war not of revenge for a dead Daughter, not for unfulfilled debts, not for land. This, I believe, is solely a religious war.”
Canna moves against Dajda. Subath exchanged a knowing look with Merkham.
“All the rage at the moment,” Lucius said, breaking Subath’s thoughts.
“Fine wit, Lucius,” Subath said in a flat tone. “Major Ferah, where is the guarantee these troops are all loyal to you? Where is the certainty you haven’t got boat-loads of religious zealots? Devotion aside, I imagine that the thought of fighting their own countrymen – shit, the thought of fighting their own kin – isn’t going to leave them all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“No, I doubt it will,” Leilah agreed. “But what choice have you?”
Merkham cleared his throat. “Major, there really is a serious question of trust here. I understand you’ve conveyed this warning at great cost.” He paused and held her gaze for a moment. “But truthfully, how can we bring a force the size that you’ve brought within our city walls? Dajda knows, I don’t even think I want boots on the ground outside the walls!”
“Governor Merkham, my lord.” Leilah’s voice remained strong despite her obvious fatigue. “An army of one hundred thousand is coming your way. They’ll be here in days, at most. Your reinforcements from Terna and Gerloup are blockaded. They’ll not make it to you unless they travel overland. That may take weeks. You saw the condition of my fleet. We barely made it to Carte. It’s clear that we fought our way to give you this message. Those who have rejected the tyranny of the Faith of the People have already fought against their own. Many have died doing so. Our loyalty should not be in question.” She grimaced and pressed at her side as she straightened in her chair. “Without our support, the city will likely fall. That’s not bragging, nor is it a threat. It’s a certainty. I offer you the support of near ten thousand troops. You’re right to be wary. I would be too in your position. But know this: if you wish us to leave, we shall leave. We can’t return to Canna. We’ll have to make our homes somewhere else. If that’s the case, then Carte will likely fall, and I suspect the Free Provinces, assailed on all sides, will fall fully. The choice is yours. I pray you make it quick, because should you wish us to leave, we shall depart on the next tide.”
Merkham eyed her a long moment. “What do you think, Chief Marshal? These are times of war; the decision on troops is yours, the diplomacy mine.”
“Good, because I’m shit at diplomacy.” Subath grinned at Leilah. “Despite my obvious charm. There’s evidence enough that the major’s fleet have been through the wringer. She herself was half-dead when she brought the message. I believe she speaks truthfully. It still don’t sit easy with me bringing Cannans into the city, then asking them to slay kin.” He looked at Leilah, and sighed long and heavy. “But we’re fucked one way or the other. And if I’m gonna get fucked one last time, I’d like it to be by the major.”
“Bloody hells!” Subath groaned as he rubbed at his eyes with finger and thumb, as if that would rid him of what he had just witnessed. “That was abject. In fact, it wasn’t even that good. It was fucking chaos.”
Lucius looked down from the rampart and into the space between the wall and the bulwark where the troops fresh from their failed drill milled about.
“Anything to say on the matter?” Subath asked, his frown betraying the discontent that roiled within.
Lucius’ eyes darted to Leilah and then back to Subath. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyebrows raised. “But Chief Marshal, war is chaos.”
Subath’s eyelid twitched as he watched Lucius squirm. “Oh, no!” he laughed. “Oh, no, you fucking don’t. Don’t try and get funny with me, you little fucker.”
“My lord,” Lucius interrupted, “I meant no offence, but since we’ve taken the Cannans on board, the drilling has gone to pot. I’d hoped our own troops would see them right, but it’s been two days, and they just don’t seem to get the order of things right.”
“See what I have to deal with?” Subath grumbled to Leilah from the side of his mouth. “Senior officers and non-commissioned staff murdered or lost to battle, and what rises to the top? The bloody dregs.”
Leilah looked at him, her face sincere. “Weren’t you a sergeant before the Solansians invaded?”
“Assailed on all sides by enemies foreign and domestic.” Subath threw up his hands and stormed off to where Thaskil was running his drills. “Run them again,” Subath shouted over his shoulder to Lucius and Leilah. He turned onto the steps facing them as he descended to ground level. “And when they are done, run them again, and again. We need them ready.”
Free Province and Cannan troops saluted him as he stalked by, his boots squelching into the churned-up mud. He threw up a hand in a hasty salute back to the troops and walked on. This frig
ging mud will be our greatest enemy. It’s a wonder we haven’t lost half of our troops to fucking foot rot at this rate.
“Chief Marshal,” a familiar voice sounded to Subath’s right.
Ah! Ghoul! Bollocks, not this tight-skinned prick. Subath stopped and turned to meet Major Skeldon with a smile. “Major, how can I help you?”
“My Lord.” Skeldon stood uncomfortably at ease, his hands clasped behind his back and his pointed chin stuck out towards Subath. His bugging eyes held Subath’s without blinking. He drew in a breath, his lower lip falling back into his mouth as he breathed in that annoying habit of his. “I wanted you to be the first to know that I’m raising a formal reprimand against Captain Thaskil for insubordination.”
Subath raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. His nose tickled. He needed to trim his moustache hair in the evening. “Oh!” he replied simply. “And why do you feel you must do that?”
“Well, my lord, it’s plain to see that the latrines for this western end of the city are in a frightful state. Frightful. The smell alone is enough to put off the enemy. I believe there’s a serious risk of disease posed by having such a condition present. I ordered the captain to commit a small party of his drill troop to establish some form of sanitary standards about the pits, and he advised me in a rather abrupt and impolite manner that his soldiers’ time was better spent drilling the defensive maneuverers. I ordered him twice more, and on both occasions he flatly refused.” Skeldon’s skin began to flush, and a long vein begin to press outward from the tight skin of his forehead. “In front of the troops, my lord. It is unacceptable. Unacceptable.”
Bloody ghoulish-looking bastard. Subath sighed and looked down at the mud between his boots. “Major, look at the ground around you.”
“My lord?”
“Look, with your big fucking blues, at what surrounds you.”
Skeldon dropped his gaze to the ground. “What am I looking at?”
Subath scanned around him to the right, and then to the left. “Ah!” He took two steps over to the wall to where another set of steps to the first level of the ramparts met the ground. “If you look around, you can see the evidence that not even three weeks ago a battle was fought here.” He pointed to the corner of where the steps met the main body of the wall. “You see that bloodstain down there?” Subath took Skeldon’s silence for a yes. “Well, this is one of many temporary reminders of the filth of war that remains within these walls. Another is the presence of yet to be found body parts. You know, fingers, hands, arms, ears and eyes. All around us there are unsanitary conditions. You should’ve seen the state of the bed I woke up in this morning. It was frankly horrifying. But I did what I needed to do, and I endured for the sake of the fight I was called to between the sheets. You, like a good major, experienced and diligent, must also endure, and for the sake of the fight to come, put up with the smell of shit about your sensitive nose.”
“But, my lord–”
“But bollocksing well nothing! If you had bloody well paid attention to the last briefing of the command, instead of posturing to inflate your status above that of the young captain – who, whilst he is young and raw, has just defended our nation’s fourth largest city – you may have heard us agree that whilst the latrines at the western end of the city are a festering shit heap – literally – they’ll be set ablaze with pitch if and when it appears the western wall will fall. The purpose of which is to provide Captain Thaskil, who you’re aware will be front and centre on the wall, and his troops, the opportunity to retreat to their well-drilled locations under a smokescreen, and thus be able to spring their trap on the enemy.”
Skeldon swallowed hard, his bulging eyes less indignant now.
“Remember what I said about the fingers, hands, arms, ears, and eyes?”
Skeldon nodded.
“Good, well, the next time you waste my fucking time on the eve of battle with petty concerns about whose cock is biggest, remember this: I will start by taking one of each from you. I’ll start by taking a finger, then a hand. I’ll then have an arm off you, and then an ear. Last of all, I’ll take a nice little spoon, and I’ll pop out one of those big bulging blue eyes of yours. Is that clear?”
“Yes, my lord.” Skeldon nodded, his lips pursed tight and brows furrowed.
“Good.” Subath shook his head and started to walk away from the major. “And mine is the biggest.”
Subath gagged as the stink of the latrines clawed at his nose. “Bloody ghoul,” he mumbled to himself, thinking of Major Skeldon’s austere face. He absently threw a hand up, returning the salute of one of the newly promoted captains, Hardfish, or Hornfish, or something equally stupid. Pretty sure I had him crying for want of his wee mam a few years back at Hardalen. That’s what we’re left with, skull-headed humourless pricks and fish-named bed-wetters. May as well throw myself in the bastarding latrines. He smiled at the hard-eyed salutes of the soldiers at their post, rags of material tied over their noses and mouths to obscure the assault from the latrines.
Thaskil was scribbling into a notebook, five squads of troops around him. Two of the groups were doubled over, hands on knees and heaving for breath.
Poor bastards. If anything’s going to bring on the blood-yips it’s fighting with this shit-stink in your nose. “Captain,” Subath said with as bright a tone as he could muster without letting his guard down and fully vomiting down his breastplate. “How’re they looking?”
“My lord,” Thaskil turned, snapping his notebook closed around the pencil. “Timings are good. The lads have a sense of their way.”
“Good. And what’s next?”
“Blindfolds.”
“Blindfolds?”
“We’ll do it blind. Then we’ll know we have it squared.”
“So nothing too strenuous, then?” Subath laughed, a sound echoed by the rest of the gathered troops. “Captain, a moment please.” Subath turned, encouraging Thaskil to walk with him.
They strode on a few paces from the troops before Subath stopped and faced the young captain. “You’ve done more for the Free Provinces this last while than most will muster in a lifetime. I’m pulling you back to the High Command when the drilling is done.”
Thaskil’s eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened.
“Don’t give me that look, lad.”
“My lord?”
“That fucking look. I taught you that look. I taught you all the looks. So cut the shit and play me no games. Speak.”
“My lord–”
“Piss off with that right away. You get special privileges, lad. You get to call me Uncle Subath.”
“Uncle–”
“Fuck me. I’m joking. Just Subath.”
Thaskil winced. “You can’t pull me back to the High Command when the fight comes. I’ve drilled the men. I’ve laid the plan down. I need to execute it. Make sure it runs smooth.”
“Make sure it runs smooth.” Subath looked back at the troops as they continued working around the defences. “You know what really pinches my balls about command?” He looked back at Thaskil.
Thaskil’s brows furrowed and his lips twitched, but he said nothing.
“Delegation,” Subath supplied. “Dele-fucking-gation. You know what it means?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Fuck's sake.”
“Subath.”
“Better. We’re just two men talking to each other. One much older and wiser than the other. So listen to me while I educate you. It may pain your heroic young heart, and fire up that blood of yours. But you’re near spent. I can see it in you. You’re running on anger alone.”
Thaskil shifted his eyes from Subath and inspected his boots, his jaw muscles working.
“Aye. I see you laddie, working the troops hard. You’ve built a solid plan. If them sneak-thieving Cannans don’t betray our tactics to their kin, I’d say we’ll hurt them. And hurt them bad for it. But you’re near done. Anger will fire you up, but it will burn you through, and you’ll make a mistake. N
o, lad, you’ll need to be in the High Command with me.”
Thaskil looked up, the tremor on his lips betraying his anger. “I’ll remain in the High Command, but only as long as you do.”
“Good.” Subath clapped a hand down on Thaskil’s shoulder.
“I’m not done.”
“Oh?” Subath narrowed his eyes as he saw the fury behind Thaskil’s eyes.
“You say we are just two men talking?”
“Aye.” Subath’s eyelid twitched once. “But be careful, laddie.”
“Aye. You talk of delegation. I say you’re full of shit.”
Subath raised his brows and felt a grin twist his lips. “You do?”
“Aye. Full of shit. I’ll stay in the High Command as long as you, because I know the second those opportunistic fuckers come within bow range of the walls, you’ll be there, and rabid for the fight.”
“My place is in the High Command.”
“And my place is on the wall.”
Subath held the younger man’s eyes. Hard, hot tension between them. “Thaskil, you’ll stay in the High Command as long as I do.”
“Are we done here?” Thaskil stiffened, his tone becoming more formal.
“I’ll expect you in the High Command once the last of the blind runs are done. Make it by sundown.”
“My lord.” Thaskil saluted and stormed back towards his men.
Subath watched as Thaskil re-joined his troops and barked out orders. Fuck. The little prick isn’t far wrong. I’ll be on that wall as soon as the Cannan ships are spotted.
Thirty-One
Resident Evil
As they approached Hagra Iolach, the smell of sulphur grew so powerful it made Evelyne gag. She choked back her bile and helped Selby, who had doubled over and was retching up what little was in her belly.
“Move on!” Higgs swung his boot at them. Evelyne lurched to avoid it. She stared hard at him as she rubbed at Selby’s back.
