The Autumn Republic

“But we were told…” Adamat started, looking somewhat confused. “I thought he was here.”

“He was.”

“But he’s not now.”

“Correct.”

“But the battle. It looks like we’re winning.”

“I think we are,” Vlora conceded, albeit hesitantly.

“If Field Marshal Tamas isn’t here, who is in command? Who is giving orders?”

“Tamas is in command,” Vlora said, gesturing at the table full of maps and notes. “He fought the entire battle yesterday, on paper, and then headed toward the mountains on personal business.”

“You’re joking,” Adamat said.

“Not at all. And the field marshal was hoping you-both of you-would wait for his return.”

CHAPTER 17

Taniel was more than a little surprised to find that Bo had not killed the rest of the Adran infantry.

Thirty-seven soldiers worked to free the rest of their dead and wounded from the results of the rockslide. A rather conspicuous pile of gleaming slag lay a few dozen feet from the bodies that had already been pulled from the rubble. Taniel thought he recognized air rifles, bayonets, and knives, all melted together by preternatural forces.

“You went easy on them,” Taniel said.

“I asked very nicely,” Bo responded.

“I wish I could have done that.” Taniel caught Bo looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Well,” Bo sniffed. “I’m a little more persuasive than you. Oi! You there, put your back into it! That boulder isn’t going to move itself.”

Taniel watched two of the soldiers try to move a boulder off a half-crushed body, and attempted to sort out the emotions warring within him. These men had come to kill him. No question about it. Even the rankers knew who they were hunting. Part of him wanted to tell Bo to bury the whole lot along with their crushed comrades. But the blood already on his hands took the sting out of his anger.

“You could help them, you know.”

“Not a chance,” Bo said.

“I thought as much. Bo?”

“Hmm?”

“What the pit is that?” Taniel pointed down the valley to a brownish-red stain on the canyon wall. It looked like someone had thrown a handful of wet paint against the stones and left it there to dry in the sun.

Bo tugged gently on his gloves. “I made an example of the first one who tried to bayonet me.”

And splattered him like a grape. Taniel felt ill. “I was wondering why they were all so cooperative. A little messy, don’t you think?”

“I’ve found that a little messiness is like manure on a field when you’re trying to cultivate fear.”

Typical Privileged thinking. “Indeed.” Taniel watched the prisoners work at extracting the bodies for a few moments before noticing Bo tug at his gloves again. “You’re nervous.”

“Not really.”

Bo tugged on his gloves plenty; most Privileged did that. But he had one leg up on a rock, bouncing it rapidly. He was nervous, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “You are. What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry your head about it.”

Taniel opened his mouth to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t get any further. Not with Bo. “I’ll go help Ka-poel,” he said. He hurried his way up the narrow path in the canyon wall that led toward the cave where he and Ka-poel had spent the last two weeks. He found Ka-poel just leaving the cave. She had her rucksack slung across her shoulder and had fastened straps from an infantryman’s jacket so that she could hang Kresimir’s casket from her back.

“I can carry something, if you’d like,” Taniel said.

Ka-poel handed him the rest of the rations they’d stolen from the infantrymen.

“Anything else?”

She laid a hand protectively across her rucksack and furrowed her brow. A moment later the frown cleared and she shook her head.

“Pole, I…” Taniel wasn’t quite sure what to say. She’d saved his life. Again. And despite the fact that their time in the mountains had been horrible and dangerous, he knew that his chances of being alone with her once they returned to civilization would be slim. There would be fighting to do, reports to give.

Generals to kill.

He realized suddenly that aside from the edge it would have given him in combat, he didn’t miss the powder.

Very strange.

They made their way back down to Bo and his prisoners. Bo lay on his back on a flat rock, tossing a pebble up in the air and catching it with one gloved hand. He seemed at ease now, even if he was still watching the soldiers carefully.

“I brought you this,” Bo said as they approached, holding out a powder horn that had been concealed in his jacket. “Forgot to give it to you earlier. But if you open that damned thing near me, I swear to Kresimir I will punch you in the face. Just carrying it gives me a rash.”

Taniel took the horn and turned it over in his hands. He could sense the powder within-the power that it could give him. It would soothe his aches and injuries, give him strength for the climb down the mountain. “Where’d you get it?”

“Stole it from a Wings infantryman on my way to get you.”