The Crimson Campaign

Olem sat beside Tamas’s tent. His forage cap was pulled over his eyes, his legs propped on a log in front of him, and his hands thrust deep in his pockets. The pose was an affected one. Olem’s Knack eliminated the need for sleep.

“Quiet night?” Tamas asked, squatting beside the small, smoldering fire and rubbing his hands together. The heat of the summer didn’t touch the early morning, not in foothills like this. He poked the coals with a twig, then tossed in the twig. No more than ash. There wasn’t much to burn on the high steppe.

“Little bit of rustling, sir. Some grumbling, too.” Olem sniffed as if the grumbling were no more than an annoyance.

His men were hungry. Tamas knew it, and it pained him.

“I put a stop to it, sir,” Olem said.

“Good.”

Tamas heard soft footfalls on the dirt. Olem shifted, and his hand emerged just a little from his coat. He had a pistol.

A carcass thumped to the ground beside Tamas. He started.

“Elk, sir,” Vlora said as she squatted down next to him.

Tamas felt a little spell of relief. Meat.

“Any more?” he asked, his voice a little too hopeful.

“Andriya bagged one, too. He’s portioning it out to the powder mages. This one’s for the officers.”

Tamas chewed on the inside of his lip. “Olem. Have it butchered and distributed to the men. A small, raw piece for each. Let them cook it themselves. We break camp in two hours.”

Olem climbed to his feet and stretched. He returned his pistol to his belt and headed off, calling a few names.

“We’ll reach Hune Dora tomorrow by midday, sir,” Vlora said. Her shoulders were stained with blood from the elk. She had to have been burning a powder trance, otherwise there was no way a girl of her size could have carried an entire elk over her shoulders.

“How far?”

“About sixteen miles. Went up that way while hunting.”

“And?”

“A small town, just like Gavril said.”

“Walled?”

“The wall is an old ruin. Eight feet high, maybe. I wouldn’t worry about it, though, sir. The city looks abandoned.”

Abandoned? Tamas had hoped there would be some population, just so he could loot their stores of powder and food.

“Anything else up that direction?

“The terrain turns steep. The road seems to follow the contours of the mountain ridges. Lots of bridges, from what I could see. Once we’re in the forest, the dragoons will have a hard time encircling us.”

“As I’d hoped.”

“The bad news is, the road narrows considerably. We’ll be able to march maybe just three or four men abreast.”

That would require Tamas’s column to extend to almost four miles long. Not conducive to an army being dogged by dragoons. Tamas swore under his breath.

He watched the sky for a moment. There wouldn’t be rain today, he decided.

“I lied, before,” Tamas said.

Vlora frowned at the embers of the fire. “Sir?”

“Back in Budwiel you asked me if there was any news about Taniel. I lied.”

Vlora opened her mouth, but Tamas went on before she could say anything.

“A few days before we went through the caves, I received a message from Adopest. Taniel’s savage was awake.”

“And Taniel?”

“Nothing. But if one of them can come out of it, presumably the other. And I wouldn’t think that little savage girl is stronger than my boy. He’ll…” He heard his voice crack. “He’ll make it.”

He examined Vlora out of the corner of his eye. He thought he saw a tear on her face.

“How is your leg, sir?” she asked.

Tamas looked down at his leg. Mihali had healed it. He could walk. He could ride. Pit, he could dance if he wanted to. But deep inside the calf, it still hurt. The pain throbbed, right where they’d taken that blasted star of gold out of his flesh. Despite the healing powers of a god, there was still something wrong with it.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Good as new.”

“You still walk with a limp,” Vlora said.

“Do I? Just habit.”

Vlora leaned back on her haunches. “I’ve heard that healed tissue has a problem readjusting itself. It needs help. Plenty of exercise and massage. If you’d like…”

“I don’t think I need the gossip that would come out of you rubbing my leg,” Tamas said. He chuckled, and was relieved when Vlora laughed as well.

“I was going to say have Olem do it, sir.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Tamas watched Vlora a little longer. She glanced up at him, then back at the fire. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He found he missed their old familiarity. If things had gone better, she might be his daughter-in-law by now. Back before she went off to the university, she’d been the one soldier with the gall to call him Tamas. She’d hung on his arm, even hugged him in public.

Before she slept with that fop in Jileman and Taniel broke off their engagement.

Tamas climbed to his feet. “I want you and Andriya to keep on hunting. We need as much meat as we can get.”

“We’re going to run out of powder eventually, sir,” she said.

“Get some from the Seventh’s quartermaster.”

“I meant the whole army.”