Best Served Cold

“You didn’t fucking die!” she snarled.

“Well. Rumours of my death are often exaggerated. Wishful thinking, on the part of my many enemies.”

“I’m beginning to know how they feel.”

“Oh, come, come, whatever were you thinking? A noble death? Me? Very much not my style. I mean to go with my boots off, a bottle in my hand and a woman on my cock.” His eyebrows went up. “It’s not that job you’ve come for, is it?”

Monza ground her teeth. “If it’s a question of money-”

“Orso has the full support of the Banking House of Valint and Balk, and you’ll find no deeper pockets anywhere. He’s paying well, and better than well. But it’s not about the money, actually. I signed a contract. I gave my solemn word.”

She stared at him. “When have you ever cared a shit about your word?”

“I’m a changed man.” Cosca pulled a flask from a back pocket, unscrewed it and took a long swig, never taking his amused eyes from her face. “And I must admit I owe it all to you. I’ve put the past behind me. Found my principles.” He grinned at his captains, and they grinned back. “Bit mossy, but they should polish up alright. You forged a good relationship with Orso. Loyalty. Honesty. Stability. Hate to toss all your hard work down the latrine. Besides, there’s the soldier’s first rule to consider, isn’t there, boys?”

Victus and Andiche spoke in unison, just the way they’d used to, before she took the chair. “Never fight for the losing side!”

Cosca’s grin grew wider. “Orso holds the cards. Find a good hand of your own, my ears are always open. But we’ll stick with Orso for now.”

“Whatever you say, General,” said Andiche.

“Whatever you say,” echoed Victus. “Good to have you back.”

Sesaria leaned down, muttering something in Cosca’s ear. The new captain general recoiled as though stung. “Give them over to Duke Orso? Absolutely not! Today is a happy day! A joyous occasion for one and all! There’ll be no killing here, not today.” He wafted a hand at her as though he was shooing a cat out of the kitchen. “You can go. Better not come back tomorrow, though. We might not be so joyous, then.”

Monza took a step towards him, a curse half-out of her mouth. There was a rattling of metal as the assorted captains began to draw their weapons. Friendly blocked her path, arms coming uncrossed, hands dropping to his sides, expressionless face turned towards her. She stopped still. “I need to kill Orso!”

“And if you manage it, your brother will live again, yes?” Cosca cocked his head to one side. “You’ll get your hand back? No?”

She was cold all over, skin prickling. “He deserves what’s coming!”

“Ah, but most of us do. All of us will get it regardless. How many others will you suck into your little vortex of slaughter in the meantime?”

“For Benna-”

“No. For you. I know you, don’t forget. I’ve stood where you stand now, beaten, betrayed, disgraced, and come out the other side. As long as you have men to kill you are still Monzcarro Murcatto, the great and fearsome! Without that, what are you?” Cosca’s lip curled. “A lonely cripple with a bloody past.”

The words were strangled in her throat. “Please, Cosca, you have to-”

“I don’t have to do a thing. We’re even, remember? More than even, say I. Out of my sight, snake, before I pack you off back to Duke Orso in a jar. You need a job, Northman?”

Shivers’ good eye crept across to Monza, and for a moment she was sure he’d say yes. Then he slowly shook his head. “I’ll stick with the chief I’ve got.”

“Loyalty, eh?” Cosca snorted. “Be careful with that nonsense, it can get you killed!” A scattering of laughter. “The Thousand Swords is no place for loyalty, eh, boys? We’ll have none of that childishness here!” More laughter, a score or more hard grins all aimed at Monza.

She felt dizzy. The tent seemed too bright and too dark at once. Her nose caught a waft of something-sweaty bodies, or strong drink, or stinking cooking, or a latrine pit too close to the headquarters, and her stomach turned over, set her mouth to watering. A smoke, oh please, a smoke. She turned on her heel, somewhat unsteadily, shoved her way between a couple of chuckling men and through the flap, out of the tent and into the bright morning.