The Crimson Campaign

“I did,” Taniel said. “I watched him die. I fired two ensorcelled bullets. I saw them hit. Saw him crumple. I was on that mountain when it began to collapse.”

“Oh?” Ket demanded. “Then how’d you get down?”

Taniel opened his mouth, only to shut it again. How did he get down? The last thing he remembered was cradling Ka-poel’s unconscious body as the building they were in began to buckle and fall.

“That’s what I thought,” Ket said. “The powder has gone to your head.”

“He’s a hero, sir!” Colonel Etan said.

“Even heroes can go mad! Provosts! Get him out of here! This meeting is no place for a captain.”

Taniel was shoved to the side by someone, and he heard another voice say, “Kresimir isn’t here! What kind of poppycock is that?”

“I’ve seen him.”

Everything went still. Taniel recognized that voice. General Hilanska.

Hilanska was still seated while everyone else stood. He wore his dress uniform, decked out in dozens of medals, the collar freshly starched, his empty left sleeve pinned to his chest. The general looked tired, his immense weight sagging over the edge of the chair, his face pulled down from weariness.

Hilanska went on, his voice deep and level. “You’ve all seen him! At the parley this morning. He was there, you bloody fools, and you ignored him. The man at the back, who didn’t speak. He wore a gold mask with only one eyehole. If any of you had bothered to listen, the Wings Privileged said he reeked of sorcery, more powerful than any they’d ever witnessed.”

“That was only a Privileged,” Ket said. “Not a god.”

Hilanska struggled to his feet. “Call me mad, Ket. I dare you. Tamas believed Kresimir had returned. He believed Two-Shot here had shot him. But the bullets weren’t fatal. Kresimir is, after all, a god.”

Ket regarded Hilanska warily. “And yet Tamas still led the Seventh and Ninth behind the Kez lines to their deaths.”

“He’s not dead,” Taniel said, feeling his blood rise.

Ket turned on him. “Says our dead field marshal’s whelp.”

“Whelp?” Taniel’s vision went blurry. “I’ve killed hundreds of men. I’ve nearly held that damned line out there by myself the last two days. I feel like I’m the only one who wants to win this war, and you call me a whelp?”

Ket spat at his feet. “You’ll take all the credit yourself? What an ego! Just because you sprang from Tamas’s loins doesn’t mean you have his skill, boy.”

Taniel could barely think. He’d been on the front line every day fighting for this? Rage took control of him. “I’ll kill you, you stupid bitch!”

Taniel felt his muscles tense to leap at General Ket, when something struck him in the side of the head. He staggered and tried to run at Ket. Hands grabbed him, arms pulled him away. He was hit again in the head. Thrashing and yelling, he was forced out of the command tent.

“Taniel,” he heard Colonel Etan say in his ear, “calm down, Taniel, please!”

It took the sight of a half-dozen sharpened pikes leveled at his face to bring Taniel back from the brink of rage. The provosts — Adran military police — behind those pikes wore expressions that said they’d poke him full of holes in an instant.

“That’s enough of that,” Etan said, pushing away a pike. He was able to get the provosts to back off a few steps.

Now that the rage had passed, Taniel felt cold, weak. His whole body began to shake. Had he really just called Ket a bitch in front of the entire General Staff? What had come over him?

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Etan demanded. “I’ve heard rumors that there was a powder mage out on the front each of the last few days, throwing himself into the teeth of the enemy like he wanted to die. I’d never imagined it was you. You’ll be lucky to get off with a flogging for this. Attacking General Ket! I can’t believe it.”

Taniel pulled his knees to his chest and tried to get his body to stop shaking. “Are you done?” Why was he shaking so much? It scared him worse than looking down the wrong end of a Warden’s sword. Was it the mala withdrawal? His powder?

“Taniel…” Etan stared at him, and Taniel could tell there was genuine concern in his eyes. “Taniel, you dragged me five feet before I managed to clock you in the side of the head. I’ve dropped men twice your size with that punch, and I had to do it three times to even faze you. Pit, I’m twice your size! I know that powder mages are strong, but…”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Taniel said. “Hopefully you’ll not be reprimanded.”

“I’m not worried about me.”

“Captain?”

They both looked up. General Hilanska stood over them. The provosts were gone.

“Colonel, I’d like a word with the captain in private, please.”

Etan left them, and Taniel slowly climbed to his feet, unsure as to whether he’d be able to stand but certain that General Hilanska might be his only ally left in this camp. “Sir?” He swayed to the side and stumbled. Hilanska caught him with his one good arm.

“Ket wants your head,” Hilanska said.

“I’d imagine.”