“Look! A banner!” said Sinnar.
I saw it, without knowing how I’d missed it in the first place. By then, we were too deep within Leerfar’s ranks to change course and we unleashed our pent-up rage at the defeats we’d suffered, as if our falling swords could wipe the memories from our heads. If we encountered significant resistance, we hardly even noticed it, such was our determination to kill these men who had been our tormentors.
I felt an awareness of the details around me, without even needing to look for them. My natural talent for the battlefield told me that this fight had been won almost before we had appeared. We were but forty and though we fought with a ferocity that far belied our small numbers, it was the masses who would decide this fight. I could have attempted a withdrawal then, but I did not. The men needed this – if it was to be the last fight they saw in Gold, it had to be one that left them with a feeling of having contributed something. In my heart, I knew that what they’d done in the days and weeks before this far outweighed any mindless slaughter they took part in now.
There were more detonations fifty yards away from us and I saw soldiers hurled into the air. The blasts hadn’t been from our side and I felt a sharp constriction in my chest at the thought that the Pyromancer might still be here. I would not have wanted our lady to face him. My fears were unfounded and I heard other blasts answering the first two.
“It’s good to hear Ploster again, Captain,” chortled Sinnar, finding the time for conversation as he cut through an enemy shield close by.
“I’ve missed having him with us,” I admitted.
“Let’s hope he’s cut his beard off, Captain,” shouted Trouble.
“Yeah, it’s always offended me for some reason,” said someone else behind my right shoulder.
Ploster’s beard had always been a cause for mockery. The rest of us stayed clean shaven and our sorcerer was the only one who cultivated facial hair. The men were talking about it now, because they could already tell that the fight in the plaza was won and we weren’t up against it. Without warning, Warmont’s exhausted men turned tail and tried to flee. Unusually, it happened in their back rows first. They simply ran away into the streets of the town, leaving the men before them to face our wrath. As word reached the other ranks that they were being deserted, the panic set in and soon the bulk of Leerfar’s men were flooding away from our lady’s army. Those at the front who had been abandoned, had little choice but to continue the fight, though they knew their deaths were unavoidable.
Once these last men had been overrun, we gave chase to Leerfar’s army, following the bulk of them towards the river, where we caught up with them. The slowest amongst them saw that flight was pointless and a few of them turned in the hope that they might at least kill a few of us in trade for their own deaths. We did not allow them the pleasure and soon the surface of the shallow river was streaked with blood and dotted with dark shapes protruding above the surface.
“Shit, that’s enough,” I called at last. “I don’t want to go amongst those burnt-out buildings today. I’ve seen enough of them.”
Lieutenant Sinnar summoned those who had got ahead of us and we let the other men of our lady’s army do the chasing, while we took ourselves back towards the plaza. We did not get the friendly reception we had hoped for and quickly found ourselves facing several hundred men wearing livery I didn’t recognize. They had their weapons drawn and seemed short on humour.
“We fight for the Saviour!” I shouted to them, only now realising how lucky we had been up till now. I’d had us join a fight without announcing who we were or who we fought for. With our filthy appearance, there was no chance we’d have been easily recognized.
My message had evidently been relayed and the banner of our lady came towards us, though she was hidden from our sight by the soldiers here. I felt her warmth even from this distance and she spared no time in pushing her way through her men towards us. As she saw what we’d become, she wept at our sight, for she could tell that we had been tested beyond measure in her name. With tears flowing, she rushed across the intervening space, still in her red robes and with Footsore behind her.
“Captain Charing, I have returned as I promised. I see that I have taken much too long.”
“My lady, I told you that we would be with you for an eternity. We would fight here for another hundred years if you asked us to.”
Jon Ploster emerged from the crowds and came over to us as well. His beard was still there and his head was as bald as it ever had been.
“You all look like shit!” he said, laughing openly. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him.
We left the plaza and escorted our lady into a storage building that I learned had been used by Leerfar for her base. It wasn’t the most agreeable of places, but it was eminently practical for what it had been used for. There was no way that she could have housed all of her men here, but someone told me that there were two other places nearby that had also been used as barracks.
It was only just past midday and I shed the armour that seemed almost joined with me. I took a trip to the Fols river and submerged myself under the water and scrubbed at my skin until the dirt was gone and my tattoos seemed almost to glow vibrantly in the sunlight. Someone had located a bar of soap and I rubbed at my hair until the last vestiges of the smoke were gone. Although I was sure we were safe enough, my sword was nearby, the tip embedded into the gravelly river bed, so that I could reach the hilt easily if I needed to. A few yards away, others of my men had also taken the opportunity to remove their grime.
“I’d kind of grown used to your stink, Captain,” said Tumbler.
“I don’t think he’ll be the same man when he’s smelling of fancy soap and flowers,” called another.
“There are many places a bar of soap can be shoved, Warble,” I said.
“You’re a braver man than me if you’d go anywhere near his trousers,” said a third man.
“That’s the Captain. The Captain. He’s brave enough to go anywhere and do anything.”
And so it went on for the fifteen minutes I permitted myself to stay. I would have stopped for longer, but we rarely have the time to do the things that we really want to. The dirt had almost become a part of me over the last few weeks, but I was glad it was gone. Cleanliness is one of the things that separates us from the animals and though I could put up with extended periods without bathing, I was always content when the muck was gone. It almost made me feel human again.
I met with our lady. There was much to tell, but it was easy to condense into the basic facts. She’d marched for many days, but there had been few tribulations on the road. They had seen a few armed gangs, but her escort had been more than enough to put paid to any thoughts of robbery.
They’d arrived in Septic first and stayed for three days. This was longer than they’d planned, but in the grand scheme of it, three days isn’t very long at all, though it was hugely significant to the men who’d remained in Gold. After Septic, they had travelled to Bunsen, from where they had gone down the coast to Demox.
“We got their soldiers,” she said. “It was tough at first – Septic is ruled by a council of frightened old men. They wanted us to stay.”
“In fact, they almost insisted we stay,” said Ploster. “I think they hoped to make our lady vanish somehow, so that everything would go away and they’d be able to continue on as before.”
Our lady flushed at the memory. “Those bastards. Scared for themselves, they were, not scared for their people. If they’d had even a shred of consideration for their citizens I might have been more sympathetic!”
“You were not sympathetic to them, then?” I asked.
She grimaced. “No I was not. I had to demonstrate how their people needed a leader. Someone young and not old. Someone who looked to the future, rather than hid in the past. We got our men in the end, but it was not how I had hoped to conclude my dealings with their council.”
“Bunsen and Demox were easier to convince,�
�� said Ploster. “Lieutenant Faye is well-connected in Bunsen. We had people on the streets cheering us as we left. When we got to Demox, we found many justiciars had paid the town a visit.”
“We killed them all,” our lady announced coldly. “And wished there had been more so that we could have killed them also.”
She’d become harder than when I’d seen her last, and in such a short time as well.
That had been more or less how her travels had unfolded. The three coastal towns had all announced their support of the Saviour and had sent her to Gold with almost six thousand of their troops. They could field more between them, but I didn’t blame them at all for keeping something in reserve. They wouldn’t have wanted to be defenceless if the Duke’s men came knocking.
They’d made all haste to Gold, with our lady already aware that things had not gone well for us. When they’d arrived, they had been able to march straight into the centre of the town and engage the enemy forces. I’d guessed Leerfar to be a poor commander – I bet she’d had no scouts or sentries on duty outside the town, content that she’d managed to secure it with the Pyromancer’s assistance.
“I think they still had seven thousand men,” she said. “More than we had. But they had no fight left in them and you saw what happened for yourself.”
“Seven thousand?” I asked. “I wonder how many we killed. I thought they had been reinforced above their initial fourteen thousand, but there has been so much confusion. It could be that they fought better than I imagined – it feels as if we have killed many more than that. The killing has been endless.”
She and Ploster both shrugged. They could only imagine what had happened in the town, even after I had given them the details. It shouldn’t have been important to me, but for some reason, I was desperate to know the numbers we’d faced, as if it would make our defeat more acceptable to hear that there were twenty thousand of the enemy. I soon came to terms with the not knowing – the wisdom of age told me not to be so stupid and to stop worrying about it. I often listened to the advice I gave myself.
There was other good news, which I received later on that day. Lieutenant Craddock arrived at the head of a few hundred men. A number of them were from the First Cohort, but not as many as I’d have liked. I went across to Craddock immediately and clasped his hand.
“Good to see you, Lieutenant. I’d started to worry that you’d not be coming back to me.”
“It was a close-run thing, sir, and I won’t deny that I’ve exhausted my luck for the next ten years.”
“Let us hope not, Lieutenant, since I have no intentions of demoting you, even if you bring greater danger to the men through your depleted fortune.”
“We’d been doing fine against them for a while,” Craddock told me after I bade him to provide some details on how he’d fared. “But every time we had to withdraw I got the feeling that our hiding places were getting fewer and fewer. We hid in the north for a time, but eventually someone gave us away and we got flushed out. We made it over the river one night, but that was when the fires started and their men came with them.”
“The Pyromancer was here,” I whispered softly. Craddock nodded his understanding, but said nothing more about it. There’d be time for all the specifics later.
“Anyway, we killed many of them,” he continued. “Hundreds, I reckon. But you know how it is when they just keep coming and they don’t stop coming. That’s when I knew we’d lost it. I took the men away, out of town and into the countryside. We joined up with some others as we found them. Lieutenant Trovis is somewhere about. He’s a stubborn old bastard, he is. Worth his weight, when it came down to it.” After that he also lowered his voice to a whisper. “How many have we lost, Captain?” he asked.
I tried to keep my voice from breaking and wasn’t sure if I succeeded fully. “I don’t know, Lieutenant. Far too many. We might not know exactly how many for a few days – that’s if we’ve got others outside the town perimeter that we don’t know about.”
“This is a dirty and bloody war already, Captain,” he said.
“And it’s hardly even started.” I told him.
I left Craddock and returned to the small room that I’d found myself in the warehouse barracks. It wasn’t that I needed a room as a reflection of my rank, but sometimes I found it easier to concentrate on the minutiae away from the hubbub of several hundred people talking at once. It had begun to get dark now and I knew that this might be the last chance I would get to ponder what had happened, before I became engulfed in a whirlwind of minor duties and decisions. There were also the big decisions to make as well and they’d have to come soon. I did not relish any of it.
Jon Ploster came to speak to me. He looked concerned and I realised that he was worried for my wellbeing.
“You look worn, Tyrus,” he said. “Weary.”
“I am both, Jon. We have fought a thousand battles, but here in Gold there was a relentless monotony to it. It is a long time since I have looked for the glory, but even so I am driven to win. These last weeks have been dreary and without lustre. For the first time in my memory I found that I did not enjoy the fight.”
“It is definitely not the losing that weighs upon you?” he asked.
“No, I am certain it is not. Defeat has struck me hard, but I have found that my pride is not as important to me as I had feared it would be.”
“I wonder if the Emperor took more than our lives, Tyrus. Perhaps he took that from us which makes us human – the doubt and the despair. I have felt little of these for as long as I can remember. What I do feel is nothing more than an echo of what it once was. I have known this and have lived with it. The memory of something is never as strong as the experience itself.”
“Do you think we are returning to how we once were?” I asked him. My own opinions on the matter were already formed.
“It’s a possibility,” he said. “And I embrace whatever comes from our time with the Saviour.”
“I do too, Jon. I have never been afraid in the past, but now I feel that I have to confront thoughts that are becoming closer and closer to fear the longer I dwell on them. I tell myself that it is a good thing.”
“A man without fear can never be brave,” said Ploster. “With no fears or doubts, there is nothing to conquer. And we in the First Cohort have been spared from the greatest fear of all.”
“Death,” I said. “Because we are already there.”
We talked for longer about other things, until it was dark outside and the sounds of the men barracked here had faded to a low chatter. Most of the soldiers had been put on patrol around what remained of the town. Warmont’s forces had fled from Gold and I’d had them followed to ensure that we’d have plenty of notice if they chose to regroup and return for a counterattack. I was sure that dozens, if not hundreds of them were hidden with collaborators, or in the countless deserted buildings. The task of flushing them out would begin in earnest tomorrow.
“Did you find out who was leading them?” asked Ploster, out of the blue.
I hadn’t realised that he didn’t know – I’d just assumed it was something he’d have picked up. The question made me sit bolt upright and I felt as if someone had slid a barbed dagger into my chest.
“Leerfar Backstabber,” I told him.
“Where is she?” he asked immediately, concern in his voice.
“I don’t know, Jon. Twist stabbed her in the spine some days ago. We didn’t see her after that.”
“No one told me that Warmont’s Fourth was here!” he said.
“Then she has not been found,” I said. “I have hardly spared her a thought since Twist got her in the back.”
“Then you have been a fool, Tyrus!” he snapped. “We must find our lady at once!”
The enormity of what he had said sunk into me and I knew that I had overlooked something that could be of more importance than anything that had happened in the weeks our lady had been away. I swept my desk aside as I left the room and then splintered the door a
s I crashed through it. I entered the long corridor that circled much of the warehouse barracks’ perimeter and charged along it, knocking aside a group of four men as they returned from an evening patrol.
“Follow me!” I barked at them and I heard their surprise as they scrambled to obey.
Our lady had been given her own two rooms in the quietest part of the barracks, furnished through the efforts of her men to provide her with a suggestion of home and privacy. As I sprinted towards her lodgings everything slowed down around me, though this time the familiar feeling of it did not give me comfort as it did in battle, rather it angered me as though it prevented me from reaching my goal. Ploster was behind me, dropping back and unable to keep up even along this short distance.
The darkness of the corridor did not hide the blood on the walls. It was just a splash as if it had been spilled there unintentionally by someone doing their best to hide the signs of a murder. I noticed it all the same – a shiny, wet redness against the dirty grey of the stone. The corridor turned sharply to the right and there was the first body. The soldier’s throat had been completely ripped out as though in a single action to give him no chance to raise an alarm. There was another just beyond him and then another. The cold stone of the floor was slick with their blood and I had to slow my pace to avoid slipping.
The clattering in the corridor behind told me that other men had been roused by the alarm and were coming to see what the matter was. Our lady’s rooms were behind a wooden door like all of the others. There should have been two of my men stationed outside, but there was not. Footsore and Hurtle had been killed, their bodies a mess of ripped tissue and shredded throats. The wooden door next to where they lay was ajar as if someone had slipped inside and neglected to close it properly behind them.
I pushed through without pause, taking in the Saviour’s room with its sturdy bed, desk and chairs – the simple comforts of a farm cottage. There was blood here as well, what seemed like barrels of it, flayed against the walls, as though it had left the donor body at a tremendous speed. Our lady was there, slumped face-down on her bed. The flesh of her back was in tatters and the flow of blood from her wounds was nothing more than a slow ooze, as if she had none left inside. It seemed as if she had lost an impossible amount of it.
Soldiers' Redemption (First Cohort Book 1) Page 33
