The Infernal Battalion

by Django Wexler

  “Indeed. It was not long after I found the records that Janus contacted me through Ennika. That was when I realized that, while I had been seeking the truth for Marcus, I could not in good conscience inform him without telling you first.”

  “Thank God for the conscience of assassins,” Winter said.

  Sothe flinched slightly. “I admit that mine is, perhaps... rusty. But I am doing my best to come to terms with it.”

  “So, now what?” Winter said. “I’m supposed to tell him? ‘Surprise, I’m your sister. Oh, and by the way, I’m a woman.’” Just thinking about it made her stomach turn.

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s insane.”

  “Why?”

  “Because...” Winter wasn’t quite able to articulate what she meant. “Can you imagine what he’d do?”

  “I think I can. What, exactly, are you afraid of?”

  “He’s... the head of the army, for one thing. He could...”

  “Expel you?” Sothe cocked her head. “Does that seem likely?”

  It didn’t. The truth was, Winter had no idea what Marcus would do. She couldn’t picture how he’d take the news, because he seemed so determined to avoid it. He was practically the only one who hadn’t figured out her secret, one way or another, because he didn’t want to see it.

  “Saints and fucking martyrs,” Winter said. “I need to think about this.”

  “I know,” Sothe said, still infuriatingly calm. “That’s one reason I didn’t allow myself to delay too long. There is some time yet before we reach Vordan City. If you wish, you can tell no one. Or I can tell Marcus the truth myself, although... that might entail some difficulties.”

  “Difficulties?”

  “When he let me go, he said that if he ever saw me again, he would kill me.”

  Winter snorted. “I’ve seen you fight. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Marcus.”

  “Not afraid of him, no. But it’s a confrontation I would prefer to avoid.”

  “Of course.” Winter laughed out loud. “Well. I don’t even know if I should thank you.”

  “There’s no need to,” Sothe said. “In fact, you have every right to be angry with me.”

  “For killing my parents, or for telling me about it?”

  “Perhaps both,” Sothe said.

  *

  As the sun sank into the western sea and the clouds flamed pink and orange, Winter staggered back to her own cabin like a drunk. Not drunk, she thought. It was more like one of the times she’d gotten cracked on the head and felt the world spin around her and refuse to settle.

  Brother. What does that even mean? Marcus was a comrade, maybe even a friend, though she’d never been as close to him as to Jane or Cyte. Bad examples. But how am I supposed to think of him now? As family? She had very little idea what that meant. The closest thing she’d had to family was Jane. And we know how that ended.

  Alex was asleep in her bunk, naked under a knit blanket, her handsome sailor nowhere to be found. Winter climbed up to her own bunk and lay down fully clothed, trying to make sense of the mess churning behind her eyes.

  Maybe it would be best not to tell him. It felt like taking the easy way out. But if I’m going to face the Beast, and probably going to die, would it really be fair to him? To give him his sister back and then snatch her away again? On the other hand, Marcus knew Ellie was alive, so if she didn’t tell him the truth he’d keep thinking she was out there somewhere, maybe keep searching. Sothe can tell him, after I’m gone. Then it won’t matter anymore. But that would be just as cruel as the other way around.

  She must have fallen asleep, because she dreamed of fire. Marcus was there this time, not the child he must have been but as she knew him now. She ran from room to room in a burning house, feeling her skin blacken and char, calling his name. He called back, sounding close but somehow always out of reach.

  When she woke, dawn was breaking, and her clothes were damp and chilly with sweat. Strangely, though, she felt better, empty but purified. She rolled out of bed and dropped lightly to the floor, finding Alex already up and sitting cross-​legged in her bunk, eating a dried roll with a piece of cheese. She had another, which she offered to Winter. Winter accepted gratefully, her stomach reminding her that she’d missed dinner yesterday.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mmm,” Alex said, then swallowed. “You must have been exhausted. I tried to wake you at shift change.”

  “I was,” Winter said. “Just... a lot on my mind, I think.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for a little stress relief, I definitely recommend passing the time of day with seaman Goltov.” Alex grinned and stretched like a cat, then paused. “Though I suppose you wouldn’t see the appeal, would you?”

  “He certainly seemed... attentive,” Winter managed.

  “He is that,” Alex said. “Doesn’t talk much, but definitely attentive.”

  “Can I ask your opinion on something?” Winter said.

  “Of course.”

  “When we get to Vordan...” Winter hesitated. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about Marcus, but... “You know that I spent my time in the army disguised as a man.”

  “Pretty effectively, too,” Alex said, then paused again. “Um. That was supposed to be a compliment.”

  Winter waved it away. “I haven’t bothered since we left to find Janus, since everyone already knew. When we get back... I’m not sure if I should keep pretending.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Raesinia. Sothe. Janus. Cyte. Abby and the others from the Girls’ Own. Feor.”

  “So everyone, essentially.”

  “Except for Marcus, and the other generals.”

  “I’d tell them. What the hell, right?” Alex grinned again. “I mean, you’re the only one who can save them from the Beast. If you aren’t in a position to tell everyone to fuck off, then no one is.”

  “That’s a point. You don’t think...”

  Winter stopped. She didn’t know what she expected to happen. She’d spent nearly four years now wearing the disguise, and for three of those years not being discovered had been her overriding concern. It had burned itself into her mind, that discovery would mean disaster. And for a ranker in the Colonials, under the vile sergeant Davis, it would have: expulsion from the army if she was lucky, rape and murder if she wasn’t.

  But Davis was dead. Winter had carved his throat open herself, the day Janus had found out her secret, when he’d shocked her by taking it in stride. Since then she’d risen higher and higher, though some part of her mind stubbornly refused to take credit for any of it. I’m lucky, and basically competent. And I have good friends. Whatever it was that fueled her success, it had made her a division-​general, second only to Marcus and Janus in the army. So what, exactly, are they going to do to me?

  “Winter?” Alex said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be... glib. I know this is serious.”

  “No,” Winter said slowly. “I think you’re right.”

  “Oh, good,” Alex said. “In that case, I’ll take all the credit.”

  *

  A few days later, the Swallow reached Vayenne, at the mouth of the Vor. Winter had seen the city before, briefly, on her return from Khandar. It was a pretty, orderly place, all white-​tiled houses in neat rows facing the sea. The river Vor, wide and slow here, emptied into the sea past Fort Cevant, whose guns dominated the harbor. The fortress was perched on a rocky promontory on the eastern side of the river, with massive brick-​faced walls studded with embrasures on the seaward side and star-​shaped earthworks facing the land, a monument to Vordan’s perpetual paranoia about a seaborne ascent of the river.

  Swallow dropped anchor in the mouth of the river, directly under the fort’s guns. As the ship swung gently in the current, a longboat launched from the base of the cliff, pulled toward them by a dozen oars.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Captain Kerrak said, when Winter and her companions gathered at the stern to
watch. “Everyone checks in with the fort before going up the river, unless you fancy eating a few rounds of hot shot. Our papers are in order.”

  Even so, Winter found herself looking up nervously at the fortress. On its cliff, it would be all but immune to cannon-​fire from the river, while subjecting enemies to deadly plunging shots from its heavy guns. No wonder the Borels never tried to invade this way.

  The longboat came alongside, and a short, balding man in livery climbed deftly aboard, followed by a pair of soldiers with carbines. Captain Kerrak greeted the man warmly, and handed over the leather packet with the ship’s papers. Winter was fairly certain she saw the gleam of a coin when the harbor official opened it, which he made disappear as efficiently as a street magician.

  “Well,” he said after thumbing through the sheets, “this all seems to be in order. Have you called at any ports since Murnsk?”

  “No, sir,” Kerrak said. Hearing Vordanai spoken aloud was strange for Winter, after all this time in Murnsk. She’d even taken to using Murnskai with Alex and Abraham. Kerrak’s accent in Vordanai was so atrocious that she suspected it was an affectation. “You can see, nowhere since Dimiotsk.”

  “You haven’t heard the news, then,” the harbor agent said, handing the packet back. “If you’re planning to go all the way to Vordan City, you may want to reconsider.”

  “Why?” Winter blurted out. The harbor agent turned to stare. “What’s happened?”

  “A passenger,” Captain Kerrak said hastily. “Bound for Vordan City. If there’s news, we’d certainly appreciate hearing it.”

  “There’s war that way,” the agent said flatly. “Or will be soon. A Borelgai fleet sailed up the Vor, bold as brass. I never thought I’d see the day.” He shrugged. “The queen herself was with them, they say. And General d’Ivoire. They’ve gone to Vordan City to have it out with Vhalnich. Emperor Vhalnich,” he corrected hastily. “I wish they’d get it over with already.”

  There were a dozen questions Winter wanted to ask, but Sothe gave her a hard look, and she held her tongue. We’ll find out when we get there. No sense causing trouble now. Kerrak thanked the agent, and he went back over the side with his guards. A few minutes later, Swallow was heading up the Vor, cutting smoothly through the dark water.

  “How long until we get to Vordan City?”

  Captain Kerrak shrugged uncomfortably. “Depends entirely on the wind. We don’t have oars, and we’re too heavy to tow. If it turns directly against us—”

  “Then we’ll make other plans,” Sothe said.

  “We have to get there before Janus does,” Winter said, when they’d stepped away from Kerrak. “Ennika was clear on that. If the Beast gets its hands on Vordan City, then it’ll be unstoppable.”

  “We will,” Sothe said. “Worse comes to worst, we can use the post stations.”

  “I thought that needed a royal warrant,” Winter said. She’d come up that way the last time, with Janus and Marcus.

  “I can put one together in a few hours, if we need it,” Sothe said. “But we’ll stay with the Swallow as long as we can. Captain Kerrak knows his business.” She paused. “Are you... feeling better? I—”

  “I’m trying not to think about it,” Winter said shortly. “We’ll see what the situation is when we get there.” Marcus is still alive, at least. Does that mean Cyte is, too? Abby and the rest? How much fighting has there been?

  “A commendable attitude,” Sothe said. “It never helps to develop plans with incomplete intelligence.”

  Almost there. Winter stared up the length of the river. Then what?

  25

  Marcus

  The Dominant was such a large ship that, on water as calm as the river Vor, it was easy to forget that you were aboard a ship at all. Raesinia’s cabin had a proper bed, a table, and a sideboard with bottles of liquor slotted into neat racks. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a high-​class inn.

  It was an odd feeling, traveling in such comfort despite the dire circumstances, but Marcus wasn’t complaining. The bed, especially, he appreciated. Both for sleep—​the aches and pops of his joints reminded him he was getting too old to spend so much time under canvas—​and for... other reasons.

  He propped himself up on one elbow, sinking deep into the feather mattress, and looked down at Raesinia. She lay beside him, half-​covered by a sheet, eyes closed, breathing gently. He couldn’t help but marvel at her. She looks so... delicate. The fine bones of her face, the soft hollows of her neck and the sweep of her collarbone, the rise of her small breasts, her tiny wrist and the thin fingers of her hand. She looked like the slightest pressure would snap her in two, like something unbearably fragile and precious, a statue made out of paper-​thin porcelain.

  She would laugh at that description, of course. And the truth was that she was anything but delicate—​in her body but, more important, as a person. Marcus reached out to brush her cheek gently, and her eyes snapped open.

  “I’m not asleep,” she said. “Just so you know. I don’t sleep.”

  “Not ever?”

  She sat up and shrugged, sheet falling to her waist. “Not since the binding. The last time I was unconscious it was because someone had literally blown my brains out.”

  Marcus winced. “I wish you wouldn’t be so casual about—”

  “Getting killed?” Raesinia grinned impishly. “It’s a defense mechanism. If I took it too seriously I’d never stop screaming.”

  “I suppose,” Marcus said. “Still.”

  “Sorry.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll try to keep your delicate sensibilities in mind.”

  She slid out of bed and walked naked to the sideboard, where there was a jug of water. Marcus turned over to watch her. She was clearly aware of the way his eyes lingered, but pretended not to be, in a way that Marcus found incredibly endearing.

  “We’ll make Vordan City today,” she said. “This morning, if the wind holds. We made it.”

  “We made it,” Marcus agreed. “But we still don’t know how close Janus is.”

  Raesinia downed a glass of water, nodding. “We’re going to be very busy for a while, that’s for certain.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Marcus looked puzzled for a moment, then grinned.

  “Do we have time?” he said.

  “We can try,” Raesinia said. “You seem... interested.”

  Marcus looked down to find the sheet pulled tight across his waist, making his rising interest obvious indeed. He laughed and kicked it aside, rolling out of bed and meeting Raesinia halfway across the room. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up—​she was so light, like she was barely there at all—​and kissed her, as she happily put her arms around his neck. The Queen of Vordan was nowhere to be found, at moments like this. There was only the laughing, lively, beautiful Raes, whom he’d started to fall in love with the night they’d snuck into Exchange Central, who’d trusted him with her direst secrets, who’d come to his rescue a half dozen times. Who was lithe and warm against him, inexperienced but full of enthusiasm.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Fuck,” Raesinia said quietly. Then, a bit louder, “Yes?”

  “Your Highness,” said a Borelgai-​accented voice from outside. “We’ve reached the edge of the Vordan City harbor, and we’ve received a messenger from shore. He says that we do not have permission to approach and that the shore batteries will fire on us if we try to go past the pilings.”

  Raesinia gave an irritated sigh. “Aren’t we flying my flag?” she said to Marcus.

  “These are Borelgai ships,” Marcus said. “Those defenses were built against this exact scenario. It’s hard to blame them.”

  “I’ll have to go ashore and convince them.” Raesinia unwrapped herself from Marcus, and he lowered her gently to the ground.

  “We don’t know exactly what kind of reception we’ll get,” Marcus said. “Maybe it would be best if you stayed aboard.”

  “Marcus,” Raesinia snapped
, fixing him with a stare. “Please listen carefully for a moment, would you?”

  “I—” He caught her expression. “I’m listening.”

  “I love you,” she said matter-of-factly. “And this, what we’ve had, has been better than I could have ever imagined. I don’t plan to give it up anytime soon. But”—​her smile returned—“if you start using it as a reason to try to treat me like I’m made of eggshells, I am going to personally beat you black-​and-​blue. Understood?”

  Marcus couldn’t help but smile himself. “Understood. I can’t promise I’ll never do that, but feel free to swat me if I do.”

  “I don’t need your permission to swat you. I’m the fucking queen.” Raesinia rose to her toes and kissed him.

  “May I at least come with you? A military presence may be useful.”

  “Of course.” She looked at him and sighed. “I suppose you’ll have to get dressed, though.”

  RAESINIA

  Sitting in the longboat beside Marcus, with a crew of Borelgai sailors and a few Second Division soldiers as an honor guard, Raesinia had to work to keep her face straight, fighting the urge to break into a big, silly grin. It was inappropriate, obviously. Her throne was in peril, her capital days or weeks from being invaded by a man who was at best a potential tyrant and at worst the plaything of who knew what dark power. Quite a few of the men and women traveling with her on the Borelgai ships would be dead before this was over even if everything went well. And God knows what will happen to me if we lose.

  And yet. The time aboard the Dominant had made her feel happy. Not just satisfied in the knowledge that her country, her people, or even her friends would survive, but happy in her own right. This had not been a common occurrence in Raesinia’s life, at least after her illness and her brother’s death. There hadn’t been much time as she went from one crisis to the next—​Orlanko, Maurisk, the Priests of the Black, and now Janus himself. Only a few times—​talking with her friends at the Blue Mask, laughing with Marcus as they roamed the city, incognito and free—​had come close.

  There was also sex, of course. It was honestly something Raesinia hadn’t known if she’d be capable of. Her education on the subject had been scanty before she’d started associating with students and revolutionaries, and even afterward she’d been left wondering if the binding would allow her to enjoy it. I can’t get drunk, after all. Or sleep. A little furtive, solitary experimentation had been inconclusive. So it had been a relief to discover that whatever changes the magic had made to her body, they didn’t interfere in this case.